Anither thirty years:

"For gin I find a ladye gay,
Exactly to my taste,
I'll pop the question, aye or nay,
In twenty years at maist."

[Illustration]

FOUR RIDDLES.

[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades.

No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had gone to a
ball at an Oxford Commemoration--and also as a specimen of what might be
done by making the Double Acrostic _a connected poem_ instead of what it
has hitherto been, a string of disjointed stanzas, on every conceivable
subject, and about as interesting to read straight through as a page of a
Cyclopaedia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each
subsequent stanza one of the cross "lights."

No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the play of
"Hamlet." In this case the first stanza describes the two main words.

No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr.
Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and Galatea." The three stanzas respectively
describe "My First," "My Second," and "My Whole."]

I.

There was an ancient City, stricken down
With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
And danced the night away.

I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
They pointed to a building gray and tall,
And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad,
And then you'll see it all."

* * * * *

Yet what are all such gaieties to me
Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?
x{2} + 7x + 53
= 11/3.

But something whispered "It will soon be done:
Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
Endure with patience the distasteful fun
For just a little while!"

A change came o'er my Vision--it was night:
We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:
The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:
The chariots whirled along.

Within a marble hall a river ran--
A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:
And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,
Yet swallowed down her wrath;

And here one offered to a thirsty fair
(His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful)
Some frozen viand (there were many there),
A tooth-ache in each spoonful.

There comes a happy pause, for human strength
Will not endure to dance with