Meanwhile, the girl, with upturned face, Stood motionless, and listened; The eyes had lost their listless way,— She only, yearning upward, found Ah, tyrant Time! you hold the book, Pleased for a meagre minute; Thus ended Act the Second. ACT THE THIRD. Or so it proved. For while I still And lo, once more appeared the head, Flushed, while the round mouth pouted; "Give Tom a kiss," the red lips said, In style the most undoubted. The girl came back without a thought; If more restraint had not been taught For these your code was all too stiff, Manners were not invented. Then on the scene,—by happy fate, 87 And bore him sourly off, despite His well-directed kicking. The girl stood silent, with a look Then, with a sudden gesture took And, passing in, I saw her press It made the dull room brighter, The Gladiator almost gay, And e'en "The Lancet " lighter. AN AUTUMN IDYLL. "Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song." LAWRENCE. SPENSER. FRANK. JACK. LAWRENCE. HERE, where the beech-nuts drop among the grasses, Push the boat in, and throw the rope ashore. Jack, hand me out the claret and the glasses; FRANK. Jack's undecided. Say, formose puer, Bent in a dream above the "water wan," Shall we row higher, for the reeds are fewer, JACK. Hist! That's a pike. Look-nose against the river Gaunt as a wolf,-the sly old privateer ! Enter a gudgeon. Snap,-a gulp, a shiver ;- FRANK (in the grass). Jove, what a day! Black Care upon the crupper LAWRENCE. Sing to us then. Damotas in a choker, FRANK. Sing you again. So musical a croaker Sing while you may. JACK. The beard of manhood still is Faint on your cheeks, but I, alas! am old. Doubtless you yet believe in Amaryllis ;— Sing me of Her, whose name may not be told. FRANK. Listen, O Thames! His budding beard is riper, Well, Lawrence, shall we sing? Say-by a week. LAWRENCE. Yes, if you will. But ere I play the piper, Let him declare the prize he has to bring. |