The Home Book of Verse Volume Iv Part 12

Too swiftly now the Hours take flight!

What's read at morn is dead at night: Scant s.p.a.ce have we for Art's delays, Whose breathless thought so briefly stays, We may not work--ah! would we might!-- With slower pen.

Austin Dobson [1840-1921]

"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!"

Si vieillesse pouvait!--

Scene.--A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman.

Monsieur Vieuxbois Babette

M. Vieuxbois (turning querulously) Day of my life! Where can she get!

Babette! I say! Babette!--Babette!

Babette (entering hurriedly) Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks So loud, he won't be well for weeks!

M. Vieuxbois Where have you been?

Babette Why M'sieu' knows:-- April!... Ville d'Avray!... Ma'am'selle Rose!

M. Vieuxbois Ah! I am old,--and I forget.

Was the place growing green, Babette?

Babette But of a greenness!--yes, M'sieu'!

And then the sky so blue!--so blue!

And when I dropped my immortelle, How the birds sang!

(Lifting her ap.r.o.n to her eyes) This poor Ma'am'selle!

M. Vieuxbois You're a good girl, Babette, but she,-- She was an Angel, verily.

Sometimes I think I see her yet Stand smiling by the cabinet; And once, I know, she peeped and laughed Betwixt the curtains...

Where's the draught?

(She gives him a cup) Now I shall sleep, I think, Babette;-- Sing me your Norman chansonnette.

Babette (sings) "Once at the Angelus, (Ere I was dead), Angels all glorious Came to my bed; Angels in blue and white Crowned on the Head."

M. Vieuxbois (drowsily) "She was an Angel"... "Once she laughed"...

What, was I dreaming?

Where's the draught?

Babette (showing the empty cup) The draught, M'sieu'?

M. Vieuxbois How I forget!

I am so old! But sing, Babette!

Babette (sings) "One was the Friend I left Stark in the Snow; One was the Wife that died Long,--long ago; One was the Love I lost...

How could she know?"

M. Vieuxbois (murmuring) Ah, Paul!... old Paul!... Eulalie too!

And Rose... And O! "the sky so blue!"

Babette (sings) "One had my Mother's eyes, Wistful and mild; One had my Father's face; One was a Child: All of them bent to me,-- Bent down and smiled!"

(He is asleep!)

M. Vieuxbois (almost inaudibly) "How I forget!"

"I am so old!"... "Good-night, Babette!"

Austin Dobson [1840-1921]

A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO Le tempo 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, And filled the room with humming,

Then out. The cas.e.m.e.nt's leaf.a.ge sways, And, parted light, discloses Miss Di., with hat and book,--a maze Of muslin mixed with roses.

"You're reading Greek?" "I am--and you?"

"O, mine's a mere romancer!"

"So Plato is." "Then read him--do; And I'll read mine for answer."

I read: "My Plato (Plato, too-- That wisdom thus should harden!) Declares 'blue eyes look doubly blue Beneath a Dolly Varden.'"

She smiled. "My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mistranslated."

"But hear,--the next's in stronger style: The Cynic School a.s.serted That two red lips which part and smile May not be controverted!"

She smiled once more. "My book, I find, Observes some modern doctors Would make the Cynics out a kind Of alb.u.m-verse concoctors."

Then I: "Why not? 'Ephesian law, No less than time's tradition, Enjoined fair speech on all who saw Diana's apparition."

She blushed,--this time. "If Plato's page No wiser precept teaches, Then I'd renounce that doubtful sage, And walk to Burnham Beeches."

"Agreed," I said. "For Socrates (I find he too is talking) Thinks Learning can't remain at ease When Beauty goes a-walking."

She read no more. I leapt the sill: The sequel's scarce essential-- Nay, more than this, I hold it still Profoundly confidential.

Austin Dobson [1840-1921]

THE LADIES OF ST. JAMES'S A Proper New Ballad Of The Country And The Town

Phyllida amo ante alias.--Virgil