)
"_Ally man_ left!"--to a painful degree
His French was unlike to the French of Paree,
As heard from our countrymen lately abroad,
And his "_doe cee doe_" was the gem of the fraud.
But what can you hope from a gentleman barred
From circles of culture by dogs in the yard?
'Twas a glorious dance, though, all the same,
The Jardin Mabille in the days of its fame
Never saw legs perform such springs--
The cold-chisel's magic had given them wings.
They footed it featly, those lades and gents:
Dull care (said Long Moll) had a helly go-hence!
'Twas a very aristocratic affair:
The _creme de la creme_ and _elite_ were there--
Rank, beauty and wealth from the highest sets,
And Hubert Howe Bancroft sent his regrets.
A PRAYER
Sweet Spirit of Cesspool, hear a mother's prayer:
Her terrors pacify and offspring spare!
Upon Silurians alone let fall
(And God in Heaven have mercy on them all!)
The red revenges of your fragrant breath,
Hot with the flames invisible of death.
Sing in each nose a melody of smells,
And lead them snoutwise to their several hells!
TO ONE DETESTED
Sir, you're a veteran, revealed
In history and fable
As warrior since you took the field,
Defeating Abel.
As Commissary later (or
If not, in every cottage
The tale is) you contracted for
A mess of pottage.
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