The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

274
Here Begrand, who shines in this scriptural path,
As the lovely Susanna, without even a relic
Of drapery round her, comes out of the Bath
In a manner, that, Bob says, is quite EVE-ANGELIC!
But, in short, dear, 't would take me a month to recite
All the exquisite places we're at, day and night;
And, besides, ere I finish, I think you'll be glad
Just to hear one delightful adventure I've had.
Last night, at the Beaujon, a place where--I doubt
If I well can describe--there are cars that set out
From a lighted pavilion, high up in the air,
And rattle you down, Doll--you hardly know where.
These vehicles, mind me, in which you go through
This delightfully dangerous journey, hold TWO.
Some cavalier asks, with humility, whether
You'll venture down with him--you smile--'tis a match;
In an instant you're seated, and down both together
Go thundering, as if you went post to old Scratch;
Well, it was but last night, as I stood and remark'd
On the looks and odd ways of the girls who embark'd,
The impatience of some for the perilous flight,
The forc'd giggle of others, 'twixt pleasure and fright,
That there came up--imagine, dear Doll, if you can--
A fine sallow, sublime, sort of Werter-fac'd man,
With mustaches that gave (what we read of so oft),
The dear Corsair expression, half savage, half soft
As Hyienas in love may be fancied to look, or
A something between Abelard and old Bincher!
Up he came, Doll, to me, and uncovering his head
(Rather bald, but so warlike!) in bad English said,
"Ah! my dear--if Ma'maelle vil be so very good--
Just for von little course"--though I scarce understood
What he wish'd me to do, I said, thank him, I would.
Off we set--and, though 'faith, dear, I hardly knew whether
My head or my heels were the uppermost then,
For 't was like heaven and earth, Dolly, coming together--
Yet, spite of the danger, we dared it again.
And oh! as I gazed on the features and air