The Book of Humorous Verse Part 41

He doth bear a golden bow, And a quiver, hanging low, Full of arrows, that outbrave Dian's shafts, where, if he have Any head more sharp than other, With that first he strikes his mother.

Trust him not: his words, though sweet, Seldom with his heart do meet; All his practice is deceit, Every gift is but a bait; Not a kiss but poison bears, And most treason in his tears.

If by these ye please to know him, Beauties, be not nice, but show him, Though ye had a will to hide him.

Now, we hope, ye'll not abide him, Since ye hear his falser play, And that he's Venus' runaway.

_Ben Jonson._

PARING-TIME ANTIc.i.p.aTED

I shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau If birds confabulate or no; 'Tis clear that they were always able To hold discourse, at least in fable; And e'en the child who knows no better Than to interpret, by the letter, A story of a c.o.c.k and bull, Must have a most uncommon skull.

It chanced, then, on a winter's day, But warm, and bright, and calm as May, The birds, conceiving a design To forestall sweet St. Valentine, In many an orchard, copse, and grove, a.s.sembled on affairs of love, And, with much twitter and much chatter, Began to agitate the matter.

At length a bullfinch, who could boast More years and wisdom than the most, Entreated, opening wide his beak, A moment's liberty to speak; And, silence publicly enjoin'd, Deliver'd briefly thus his mind: "My friends, be cautious how ye treat The subject upon which we meet; I fear we shall have winter yet."

A finch, whose tongue knew no control, With golden wing and satin poll, A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried What marriage means, thus pert replied: "Methinks the gentleman," quoth she, "Opposite in the apple-tree, By his good-will would keep us single Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle, Or--which is likelier to befall-- 'Til death exterminate us all.

I marry without more ado.

My dear d.i.c.k Redcap, what say you?"

d.i.c.k heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turned short 'round, strutting, and sidling, Attested, glad, his approbation Of an immediate conjugation.

Their sentiments, so well express'd, Influenced mightily the rest; All pair'd, and each pair built a nest.

But, though the birds were thus in haste, The leaves came on not quite so fast, And destiny, that sometimes bears An aspect stern on man's affairs, Not altogether smiled on theirs.

The wind, of late breathed gently forth, Now shifted east, and east by north; Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know, Could shelter them from rain or snow.

Stepping into their nests, they paddled, Themselves were chill'd, their eggs were addled.

Soon every father bird and mother Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other, Parted without the least regret, Except that they had ever met, And learn'd in future to be wiser Than to neglect a good adviser.

MORAL

Misses, the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry: Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.

_William Cowper._

WHY

Do you know why the rabbits are caught in the snare Or the tabby cat's shot on the tiles?

Why the tigers and lions creep out of their lair?

Why an ostrich will travel for miles?

Do you know why a sane man will whimper and cry And weep o'er a ribbon or glove?

Why a cook will put sugar for salt in a pie?

Do you know? Well, I'll tell you--it's Love.

_H. P. Stevens._

THE SABINE FARMER'S SERENADE

I

'Twas on a windy night, At two o'clock in the morning, An Irish lad so tight, All wind and weather scorning, At Judy Callaghan's door.

Sitting upon the palings, His love-tale he did pour, And this was part of his wailings:-- _Only say You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan_.

II

Oh! list to what I say, Charms you've got like Venus; Own your love you may, There's but the wall between us.

You lie fast asleep Snug in bed and snoring; Round the house I creep, Your hard heart imploring.

_Only say You'll have Mr. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan._

III

I've got a pig and a sow, I've got a sty to sleep 'em A calf and a brindled cow, And a cabin too, to keep 'em; Sunday hat and coat, An old grey mare to ride on, Saddle and bridle to boot, Which you may ride astride on.

_Only say You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan._

IV

I've got an acre of ground, I've got it set with praties; I've got of 'baccy a pound, I've got some tea for the ladies; I've got the ring to wed, Some whisky to make us gaily; I've got a feather bed And a handsome new shillelagh.

_Only say You'll have Mr. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan._

V

You've got a charming eye, You've got some spelling and reading You've got, and so have I, A taste for genteel breeding; You're rich, and fair, and young, As everybody's knowing; You've got a decent tongue Whene'er 'tis set a-going.

_Only say You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan._

VI

For a wife till death I am willing to take ye; But, och! I waste my breath, The devil himself can't wake ye.

'Tis just beginning to rain, So I'll get under cover; To-morrow I'll come again, And be your constant lover.

_Only say You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan._

_Father Prout._

I HAE LAID A HERRING IN SAUT

I hae laid a herring in saut-- La.s.s, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now; I hae brew'd a forpit o' maut, And I canna come ilka day to woo:

I hae a calf that will soon be a cow-- La.s.s, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now; I hae a stook, and I'll soon hae a mowe, And I canna come ilka day to woo:

I hae a house upon yon moor-- La.s.s, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now; Three sparrows may dance upon the floor, And I canna come ilka day to woo: