The Spook Ballads

Name: The Spook Ballads
Author: Parkes, William Theodore

Parkes, William Theodore

Ghosts -- Poetry; Supernatural -- Poetry

[Illustration: Sonnet on Parting]


    HE travelled by the mail,
    On incognito scale,
      With cautious care, and reck,
              Of varied tricks of art.

    For he had made a bag,
    Of most extensive swag,
              From bank where he was sec.,
                    And didn't want to part.

    But story of his trick,
    By telegraphic tick,
              Brought him to book, and check,
                    It gave him quite a start,
              He had it by a neck,
                'Twas rough to have to part!

[Illustration]




[Illustration: His Bouquet]


IT HAS been proved by more than one observant social Philosopher, that
the impressionable star gazer of the Music Halls is one who often
scatters rose leaves, and harvests thorns; let us hear what Muffkin
Moonhead has to sing, concerning his own experience.


    IT cost a florin square,
    Her photo I declare,
                To wear,
                With care
            Of uttermost esteem,
    In pocket of my breast,
    That picture lay at rest,
                And blest,
                With zest,
            That fluttered thro' my dream;
    My dream of love, where she
    Was posed, in extacy,
            Of gay phantasmagoria,
    Of beauty unto me.

    [Decoration]

    Ten other bobs, I pay,
    For hothouse plant bouquet,
                When she,
                On tree,
            Of pantomimic treat
    In semi-raiment stood,
    As geni of the good,
                I could,
                And would,
            Down cast them at her feet.
    The feet of love where she
    Was posed, in extacy,
            Of bright phantasmagoria,
    Of beauty unto me!

    I took a numbered seat,
    In stall select, and neat,
                To treat
                My sweet!
            And when she did appear,
    I flung the flow'rs I wis,
    She took them, and with this,
                O bliss
                A kiss!
            That thrilled me, while the cheer
    Of gods applaudingly,
    Did greet with storm of glee,
             The loved phantasmagoria
    Of beauty unto me!

    [Decoration]

    Sweet osculating scene
    Of bouquet, and my queen,
                 And smug
                 Chaste hug,
              Of posies to her nose,
    As poising on her toe,
    And then subsiding low,
                 A glow
                 Flushed so,
              On my cheek, like a rose,
    The while she bowed the knee,
    Then skipped away O.P.,
             That lithe phantasmagoria,
    Of beauty unto me!

           *       *       *       *       *

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Spook Ballads

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