Works

"Non injussa cano."
Virg.


POET. I sing of POPE--

FRIEND. What, POPE, the Twitnam Bard,
Whom Dennis, Cibber, Tibbald push'd so hard!
POPE of the Dunciad! POPE who dar'd to woo,...

FRANK (on the Lawn).
Come to the Terrace, May,--the sun is low.

MAY (in the House).
Thanks, I prefer my Browning here instead.

FRANK.
There are two peaches by the strawberry bed.
...

"Sic visum Veneri: cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga a'nea
Saevo mittere cum joco."
--Hor. i. 33.


"Love mocks us all"--as Horace said of old:...

SCENE.--The Fountain in the Garden of the Luxembourg. It is surrounded by Promenaders.

MONSIEUR JOLICOEUR.
A LADY (unknown).


M. JOLICOEUR.
'Tis she, no doubt. Brunette,--and tall:...

All night through Daisy's sleep, it seems,
Have ceaseless "rat-tats" thundered;
All night through Daisy's rosy dreams
Have devious Postmen blundered,
Delivering letters round her bed,--...

"Le temps le mieux employe est celui qu' on perd."
|Claude Tillier|.

I'd read three hours. Both notes and text
Were fast a mist becoming;
In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed,...

Behind thy pasteboard, on thy battered hack,
Thy lean cheek striped with plaster to and fro,
Thy long spear levelled at the unseen foe,
And doubtful Sancho trudging at thy back,...

"The Case is proceeding."


From the tragic-est novels at Mudie's--
At least, on a practical plan--
To the tales of mere Hodges and Judys,
One love is enough for a man....

(Published at Madrid, by Francisco de Robles, January 1605)

"Para mi sola nacio don Quixote, y yo para el."--CERVANTES.


Advents we greet of great and small;
Much we extol that may not live;...

To One who asked why he wrote it.


You ask me what was his intent?
In truth, I'm not a German;
'Tis plain though that he neither meant
A Lecture nor a Sermon.
...

The most oppressive Form of Cant
Is that of your Art-Dilettant:--
Or rather "was." The Race, I own,
To-day is, happily, unknown.

A Painter, now by Fame forgot,
Had painted--'tis no matter what;...

A Suggestion From Hogarth.


One knows the scene so well,--a touch,
A word, brings back again
That room, not garnished overmuch,
In gusty Drury Lane;
...

Hurrah! the Season's past at last;
At length we've "done" our pleasure.
Dear "Pater," if you only knew
How much I've longed for home and you,--
Our own green lawn and leisure!
...