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We have been happy together, Though under the cloud of sin, But I know that the day approaches When my chastening must begin.
You have been faithful and tender, But you will not always be, But I think I had better leave you While your thoughts are kind of me.
I know my beauty is fading-- Sin furrows the fairest brow-- And I know that your heart will weary Of the face you smile on now.
You will take a bride to your bosom After you turn from me; You will sit with your wife in the moonlight, And bold her babe on your knee.
O G.o.d! I never could bear it; It would madden my brain, I know; And so while you love me dearly I think I had better go.
It is sweeter to feel, my darling-- To know as I fall asleep-- That some one will mourn me and miss me, That some one is left to weep,
Than to die as I should in the future, To drop in the street some day, Unknown, unwept, and forgotten After you cast me away.
Perhaps the blood of the Saviour Can wash my garments clean; Perchance I may drink of the waters That flow through pastures green.
Perchance we may meet in heaven, And walk in the streets above, With nothing to grieve us or part us Since our sinning was all through love G.o.d says, "Love one another,"
And down to the depths of h.e.l.l Will He send the soul of a woman Because she loved--and fell?
And so in the moonlight he found her, Or found her beautiful clay, Lifeless and pallid as marble, For the spirit had flown away.
The farewell words she had written She held to her cold, white breast, And the buried blade of a dagger Told how she had gone to rest.
THE PRINCESS'S FINGER-NAIL: A TALE OF NONSENSE LAND
All through the Castle of High-bred Ease, Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please, Spread consternation and wild despair.
The queen was wringing her hands and hair; The maids of honour were sad and solemn; The pages looked blank as they stood in column; The court-jester blubbered, "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo"
The cook in the kitchen dropped tears in the stew And all through the castle went sob and wail, For the princess had broken her finger-nail: The beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose, Bride-elect of the Lord High-Nose, Broken her finger-nail down to the quick-- No wonder the queen and her court were sick.
Never sorrow so dread before Had dared to enter that castle door.
Oh! what would my Lord His-High-Nose say When she took off her glove on her wedding-day?
The fairest princess in Nonsense Land, With a broken finger-nail on her hand!
'Twas a terrible, terrible accident, And they called a meeting of parliament; And never before that royal Court Had come such question of grave import As "How could you hurry a nail to grow?"
And the skill of the kingdom was called to show.
They sent for Monsieur File-'em-off; He smoothed down the corners so ragged and rough.
They sent for Madame la Diamond-Dust, Who lived on the fingers of upper-crust; They sent for Professor de Chamois-Skin, Who took her powder and rubbed it in; They sent for the pudgy nurse Fat-on-the-Bone To bathe her finger in eau-de-Cologne; And they called the court surgeon, Monsieur Red-Tape, To hear what he thought of the new nail's shape, Over the kingdom the telegrams flew Which told how the finger-nail thrived and grew; And all through the realm of Nonsense Land They offered up prayers for the princess's hand.
At length the glad tidings were heard with a shout What the princess's finger-nail had grown out: Pointed and polished and pink and clean, Befitting the hand of a some-day queen.
Salutes were fired all over the land By the home-guard battery pop-gun band; And great was the joy of my Lord High-Nose, Who straightway ordered his wedding clothes, And paid his tailor, Don Wait-for-aye, Who died of amazement the self-same day.
My lord by a jury was judged insane; For they said--and the truth of the saying was plain-- That a lord of such very high pedigree Would never be paying his bills, you see, Unless he was out of his head; and so They locked him up without more ado.
And the beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose Pined for her lover, my Lord High-Nose, Till she entered a convent and took the veil-- And this is the end of my nonsense tale.
A BABY IN THE HOUSE
I knew that a baby was hid in the house; Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry, But the husband went tiptoeing round like a mouse, And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby; And there was a look on the face of that mother That I knew could mean only _one_ thing, and no other.
"The _mother_," I said to myself; for I knew That the woman before me was certainly that, For there lay in the corner a tiny cloth shoe, And I saw on the stand such a wee little hat; And the beard of the husband said plain as could be, "Two fat, chubby hands have been tugging at me."
And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book, And a dog that would bark if you pulled on a string; And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look; And I said to myself, "There is no other thing But a babe that could bring about all this, and so That one is in hiding here somewhere, I know."
I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more, And heard not a sound, yet I knew I was right; What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor, The book and the toy, and the faces so bright?
And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
I am sure, _very_ sure, there's a babe in that house.
THE FOOLISH ELM
The bold young Autumn came riding along One day where an elm-tree grew.
"You are fair," he said, as she bent down her head, "Too fair for your robe's dull hue.
You are far too young for a garb so old; Your beauty needs colour and sheen.
Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold Befitting the grace of a queen.
"For one little kiss on your lips, sweet elm, For one little kiss, no more, I would give you, I swear, a robe more fair Than ever a princess wore.
One little kiss on those lips, my pet, And lo! you shall stand, I say, Queen of the forest, and, better yet, Queen of my heart alway."
She tossed her head, but he took the kiss-- 'Tis the way of lovers bold-- And a gorgeous dress for that sweet caress He gave ere the morning was old.
For a week and a day she ruled a queen In beauty and splendid attire; For a week and a day she was loved, I ween, With the love that is born of desire.
Then bold-eyed Autumn went on his way In search of a tree more fair; And mob-winds tattered her garments and scattered Her finery here and there.
Poor and faded and ragged and cold She rocked in her wild distress, And longed for the dull green gown she had sold For her fickle lover's caress.
And the days went by and Winter came, And his tyrannous tempests beat On the s.h.i.+vering tree, whose robes of flame He had trampled under his feet.
I saw her reach up to the mocking skies Her poor arms, bare and thin; Ah, well-a-day! it is ever the way With a woman who trades with sin.
ROBIN'S MISTAKE
What do you think Red Robin Found by a mow of hay?
Why, a flask brimful of liquor, That the mowers brought that day To slake their thirst in the hayfield.
And Robin he shook his head: "Now I wonder what they call it, And how it tastes?" he said.
"I have seen the mowers drink it-- Why isn't it good for me?
So I'll just draw out the stopper And get at the stuff, and see!"
But alas! for the curious Robin, One draught, and he burned his throat From his bill to his poor crop's lining, And he could not utter a note.
And his head grew light and dizzy, And he staggered left and right, Tipped over the flask of brandy, And spilled it, every mite.
But after awhile he sobered, And quietly flew away, And he never has tasted liquor, Or touched it, since that day.
But I heard him say to his kindred, In the course of a friendly chat, "These men think they are above us, Yet they drink such stuff as that!
Oh, the poor degraded creatures!