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LINES SUGGESTED BY THE 14th FEBRUARY 25

And the hour suggests eloping

Fly my thoughts to you again.

May my dreams be granted never ?

Must I aye endure affliction
Rarely realised, if ever,

In our wildest works of fiction ?

Madly Romeo loved his Juliet;

Copperfield began to pine
When he hadn't been to school yet,

But their loves were cold to mine.

Give me hope, the least, the dimmest,

Ere I drain the poisoned cup:
Tell me I may tell the chymist

Not to make that arsenic up!
Else, this heart shall soon cease throbbing ;

And when, musing o'er my bones,
Travellers ask, “Who killed Cock Robin ?”

They'll be told, “Miss Sarah J—8.”

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B is the Ball where the Angel was seen :

C is the Chaperone, who cheated at cards :
D is the Deuxtemps, with Frank of the Guards :
E is the Eye which those dark lashes cover :
F is the Fan it peeped wickedly over:
G is the Glove of superlative kid :
H is the Hand which it spitefully hid :
I is the Ice which the fair one demanded :

Jis the Juvenile who hurried to hand it:

K is the Kerchief, a rare work of art:
L is the Lace which composed the chief part:
M is the old Maid who watch'd the girls dance :
N is the Nose she turned up at each glance:

0 is the Olga (just then in its prime):
P is the Partner who wouldn't keep time:
Q 's a Quadrille, put instead of the Lancers :
R the Remonstrances made by the dancers :
S is the Supper, where all went in pairs :
T is the Twaddle they talked on the stairs :
U is the Uncle who thought we'd be going':
V is the Voice which his niece replied 'No' in :
W is the Waiter, who sat up till eight :
X is his Exit, not rigidly straight:
Y is a Yawning fit caused by the Ball :
Z stands for Zero, or nothing at all.

TO MRS. GOODCHILD.

THE night-wind's shriek is pitiless and hollow,

The boding bat flits by on sullen wing, And I sit desolate, like that one swallow"

Who found (with horror) that he'd not brought

spring: Lonely as he who erst with venturous thumb

Drew from its pie-y lair the solitary plum.

And to my gaze the phantoms of the Past,

The cherished fictions of my boyhood, rise : I see Red Ridinghood observe, aghast,

The fixed expression of her grandam's eyes; I hear the fiendish chattering and chuckling Which those misguided fowls raised at the Ugly

Duckling.

The House that Jack built-and the Malt that lay

Within the House—the Rat that ate the Malt

The Cat, that in that sanguinary way

Punished the poor thing for its venial faultThe Worrier-Dog-the Cow with crumpled hornAnd then—ah yes! and then—the Maiden all forlorn!

O Mrs. Gurton-(may I call thee Gammer?)

Thou more than mother to my infant mind! I loved thee better than I loved my grammar

I used to wonder why the Mice were blind, And who was gardener to Mistress Mary,

And what—I don't know still—was meant by

“quite contrary''?

“Tota contraria," an "Arundo Cami"

Has phrased it—which is possibly explicit, Ingenious certainly—but all the same I Still ask, when coming on the word, 'What is

it ?

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