The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

417
And do you ask me, "What is LIFE?"
And do you ask me, "What is pleasure?"
My muse and I are not at strife,
So listen, lady, to my measure:--
Listen amid thy graceful leisure,
To what is LIFE, and what IS pleasure.
'Tis LIFE to see the first dawn stain
With sallow light the window-pane:
To dress--to wear a rough drab coat,
With large pearl buttons all afloat
Upon the waves of plush: to tie
A kerchief of the King-cup dye
(White spotted with a small bird's-eye)
Around the neck, and from the nape
Let fall an easy fan-like cape:
To quit the house at morning's prime,
At six or so--about the time
When watchmen, conscious of the day
Puff out their lantern's rush-light ray;
Just when the silent streets are strewn
With level shadows, and the moon
Takes the day's wink and walks aside
To nurse a nap till eventide.
'Tis LIFE to reach the livery stable,
Secure the RIBBONS and the DAY-BILL,
And mount a gig that had a spring
Some summer's back: and then take wing
Behind (in Mr. Hamlet's tongue)
A jade whose "withers are unwrung;"
Who stands erect, and yet forlorn,
And from a HALF-PAY life of corn,
Showing as many POINTS each way
As Martial's Epigrammata,
Yet who, when set a-going, goes
Like one undestined to repose.
'Tis LIFE to revel down the road,
And QUEER each o'erfraught chaise's load,
To rave and rattle at the GATE,
And shower upon the gatherer's pate
Damns by the dozens, and such speeches
As well betokens one's SLANG riches: