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The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

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447<br />

A BALLAD OF BEDLAM.<br />

PUNCH.<br />

O, lady wake!--<strong>the</strong> azure moon<br />

Is rippling in <strong>the</strong> verdant skies,<br />

<strong>The</strong> owl is warbling his s<strong>of</strong>t tune,<br />

Awaiting but thy snowy eyes.<br />

<strong>The</strong> joys <strong>of</strong> future years are past,<br />

To-morrow's hopes have fled away;<br />

Still let us love, and e'en at last,<br />

We shall be happy yesterday.<br />

<strong>The</strong> early beam <strong>of</strong> rosy night<br />

Drives <strong>of</strong>f <strong>the</strong> ebon morn afar,<br />

While through <strong>the</strong> murmur <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> light<br />

<strong>The</strong> huntsman winds his mad guitar.<br />

<strong>The</strong>n, lady, wake! my brigantine<br />

Pants, neighs, and prances to be free;<br />

Till <strong>the</strong> creation I am thine,<br />

To some rich desert fly with me.<br />

STANZAS TO AN EGG.<br />

[BY A SPOON.]<br />

PUNCH.<br />

Pledge <strong>of</strong> a fea<strong>the</strong>r'd pair's affection,<br />

Kidnapped in thy downy nest,<br />

Soon for my breakfast--sad reflection!--<br />

Must thou in yon pot be drest.<br />

What are <strong>the</strong> feelings <strong>of</strong> thy mo<strong>the</strong>r?<br />

Poor bereaved, unhappy hen!<br />

Though she may lay, perchance, ano<strong>the</strong>r,<br />

<strong>The</strong>e she ne'er will see again.

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