LESSON X. SOUR GRAPES. ANONYMOUS, 1. My love, thou'rt fairer than the dawn Of April's brightest day, And the beauty of thy cheek outvies 2 The odoriferous perfumes 3. O, how enchantingly around 4. And then they wave so feelingly Ten thousand beauties sport around 5. Those eyes, do turn them, dear, away 6. Those lips, how do they sparkle forth The ruby's brightest glow, And thy neck outshines in purity 7. Thy voice, O how divinely sweet, And, fairy-like, an angel form Seems in the air to float. 8. Words cannot tell, nor thought can dream For thee-and wilt thou not be mine 9. Zounds! you red-haired, freckled thing— You raw-boned, crooked, overgrown, 10. What! rid of thee? Ye lucky stars I wouldn't marry such a chub LESSON XI. TRAGIC FATE OF MRS. CAUDLE. ANONYMOUS 1. MR. CAUDLE had a scolding wife, (A most uncommon thing in life;) His days and nights were spent in strife unceasing. Her tongue went glibly all day long, Sweet contradiction, still her song, And all the poor man did was wrong, and ill-done. 2. A truce without doors, or within, From speeches long as tradesmen spin Or rest from her eternal din, he found not. He every soothing art displayed; Tried of what stuff her skin was made: Failing in all, to Heaven he prayed, to take her. 3. Once, walking by a river's side, In mournful terms "My dear!" he cried, "No more let feuds our peace divide-I'll end them. Weary of life, and quite resigned, To drown I have made up my mind, So tie my hands as fast behind as can be,— 4. "Or nature may assert her reign, My arms assist, my will restrain, And, swimming, I once more regain my troubles." With eager haste the dame complies, While joy stands glistening in her eyes; Already, in her thoughts, he dies before her. 5. "Yet, when I view the rolling tide, You push me in,-nay, never shrink-but do it. 6. To give the blow the more effect, Some twenty yards she ran direct, And did what she could least expect she should do. So souse! she dashes in the wave, And gave, what ne'er before she gave-much pleasure. "Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried; "Thou best of wives "-the man replied, "I would, but you my hands have tied-Heaven help you." LESSON XII. LAMENT OF A YOUNG LADY. ANONYMOUS. 1. Ir's really very singular, I've many beaux, yet none propose- He siniles and sighs, looks very wise, 2. I'ın sonnetized, I'm poetized, I'm paragraphed on paper; They vow, although I'm very stout, My waist is very taper; And rather a Grecian nose, 3. That Colonel Tancers, of the Lancers, And then his air, so militaire O, if he would propose! 4. They steal my pocket handkerchief They pray for locks of hair— They ask me for my hand- -to dance, There's Mr. Dyson, fond of hyson, I make his tea, he smiles on me, 5. At park or play, by night or day, Riding or walking, singing or talking, At revel, masque, or rout! My father thinks it very hard, That out of all the beaux, Who come to dine, and drink his wine, 6. Yes, it is very singular, I've half a mind to pout; Of all the beax, none will propose- Whate'er ensue, or false or true, One of them shall propose. LESSON XIII. THE OLD BACHELOR. BY A MAD POET. 1. In the vast flower-field of human affection, there is not a more miserable being than the old bachelor. He is the very scare-crow of human happiness. He scares away the little birds of love that come to steal the hemlock seeds of loneliness and despair. See him come home at night, wet and hungry; he finds a cold hearth, a barren table, and a lonely pillow, that looks like the white urn of earthly enjoyment. |