The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

524
The hem of gold, that, like a wavy river,
Flowed down into thy back with glancing shiver!
So bare was thy fine throat, and curls of black
So lightsomely dropp'd on thy lordly back.
So crisply swaled the feather in thy bonnet,
So glanced thy thigh, and spanning palm upon it,
That my weak soul took instant flight to thee,
Lost in the fondest gush of that sweet witchery!
But when the dance was o'er, and arm in arm
(The full heart beating 'gainst the elbow warm),
We pass'd to the great refreshment hall,
Where the heap'd cheese-cakes and the comfits small
Lay, like a hive of sunbeams, to burn
Around the margin of the negus urn;
When my poor quivering hand you finger'd twice,
And, with inquiring accents, whisper'd "Ice,
Water, or cream?" I could no more dissemble,
But dropp'd upon the couch all in a tremble.
A swimming faintness misted o'er my brain,
The corks seem'd starting from the brisk champagne,
The custards fell untouch'd upon the floor,
Thine eyes met mine. That night we danced no more!
LOUIS NAPOLEON'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY
WILLIAM AYTOUN.
Guards! who at Smolensko fled--
No--I beg your pardon--bled!
For my Uncle blood you've shed,
Do the same for me.
Now's the day and now's the hour,
Heads to split and streets to scour;
Strike for rank, promotion, power,
Sawg, and eau de vie.
Who's afraid a child to kill?
Who respects a shopman's till?