eydom
Born in the sea with a cold in its head?

_Herman C. Merivale._

SELECT PASSAGES FROM A COMING PORT

DISENCHANTMENT

My Love has sicklied unto Loath,
And foul seems all that fair I fancied--
The lily's sheen's a leprous growth,
The very buttercups are rancid.

ABASEMENT

With matted head a-dabble in the dust,
And eyes tear-sealed in a saline crust
I lie all loathly in my rags and rust--
Yet learn that strange delight may lurk in self-disgust.

STANZA WRITTEN IN DEPRESSION NEAR DULWICH

The lark soars up in the air;
The toad sits tight in his hole;
And I would I were certain which of the pair
Were the truer type of my soul!

TO MY LADY

Twine, lanken fingers, lily-lithe,
Gleam, slanted eyes, all beryl-green,
Pout, blood-red lips that burst a-writhe,
Then--kiss me, Lady Grisoline!

THE MONSTER

Uprears the monster now his slobberous head,
Its filamentous chaps her ankles brushing;
Her twice-five roseal toes are cramped in dread,
Each maidly instep mauven-pink is flushing.

A TRUMPET BLAST

Pale Patricians, sunk in self-indulgence,
Blink your bleared eyes. Behold the Sun--
Burst proclaim in purpurate effulgence,
Demos dawning, and the Darkness done!

_F. Anstey._

THE ROMAUNT OF HUMPTY DUMPTY

'Tis midnight, and the moonbeam sleeps
Upon the garden sward;
My lady in yon turret keeps
Her tearful watch and ward.
"Beshrew me!" mutters, turning pale,
The stalwart seneschal;
"What's he, that sitteth, clad in mail
Upon our castle wall?"

"Arouse thee, friar of orders grey;
What ho! bring book and bell!
Ban yonder ghastly thing, I say;
And, look ye, ban it well!
By cock and pye, the Humpty's face!"
The form turned quickly round;
Then totter'd from its resting-place--

* * * * *

That night the corse was found.

The king, with hosts of fighting men
Rode forth at break of day;
Ah! never gleamed the sun till then
On such a proud array.
But all that army, horse and foot,
Attempted, quite in vain,
Upon the castle wall to put
The Humpty up again.

_Henry S. Leigh._

THE WEDDING

Lady Clara Vere de Vere!
I hardly know what I must say,
But I'm to be Queen of the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen of the May!
I am half-crazed; I don't feel grave,
Let me rave!