Point Lace and Diamonds | Page 5

to laugh
When he kissed a flower he took,
Looking, oh! like
such a calf.
I suppose he's got it now,
In a wine-glass on his shelves;


It's a mystery to me
Why men will deceive themselves.
'Saw him
kiss me!'--Oh, you wretch;
Well, he begged so hard for one--
And I
thought there'd no one know--
So I--let him, just for fun.
I know it
really wasn't right
To trifle with his feelings, dear,
But men are
such stuck-up things;
He'll recover--never fear."
CHIVALRIE.
Under the maple boughs we sat,
Annie Leslie and I together;
She
was trimming her sea-side hat
With leaves--we talked about the
weather.
The sun-beams lit her gleaming hair
With rippling waves of golden
glory,
And eyes of blue, and ringlets fair,
Suggested many an
ancient story
Of fair-haired, blue-eyed maids of old,
In durance held by grim
magicians,
Of knights in armor rough with gold,
Who rescued them
from such positions.
Above, the heavens aglow with light,
Beneath our feet the sleeping
ocean,
E'en as the sky my hope was bright,
Deep as the sea was my
devotion.
Her father's voice came through the wood,
He'd made a fortune
tanning leather;
I was his clerk; I thought it good
To keep on
talking about the weather.
A PIECE OF ADVICE.
So you're going to give up flirtation, my dear,
And lead a life sober
and quiet?
There, there, I don't doubt the intention's sincere.
But
wait till occasion shall try it.--
Is Ramsay engaged?
Now, don't look enraged!
You like him, I
know--don't deny it!

What! Give up flirtation? Change dimples for frowns
Why, Nell,
what's the use? You're so pretty,
That your beauty all sense of your
wickedness drowns
When, some time, in country or city,
Your fate comes at last.
We'll forgive all the past,
And think of you
only with pity.
Indeed!--so "you feel for the woes of my sex!"
"The legions of hearts
you've been breaking
Your conscience affright, and your reckoning
perplex,
Whene'er an account you've been taking!"
"I'd scarcely believe
How deeply you grieve
At the mischief your
eyes have been making!"
Now, Nellie!--Flirtation's the leaven of life;
It lightens its doughy
compactness.
Don't always--the world with deception is rife--

Construe what men say with exactness!
I pity the girl,
In society's whirl,
Who's troubled with
matter-of-factness.
A pink is a beautiful flower in its way,
But rosebuds and violets are
charming,
Men don't wear the same _boutonniére_ every day.
Taste
changes.--Flirtation alarming!
If e'er we complain,
You then may refrain,
Your eyes of their
arrows disarming.
Ah, Nellie, be sensible; Pr'ythee, give heed
To counsel a victim
advances;
Your eyes, I acknowledge, will make our hearts bleed,

Pierced through by love's magical lances.
But better that fate
Than in darkness to wait;
Unsought by your
mischievous glances.
ZWEI KONIGE AUF ORKADAL.
FROM THE GERMAN.

There sat two kings upon Orkadal,
The torches flamed in the pillared
hall.
The minstrel sings, the red wine glows,
The two kings drink with
gloomy brows.
Out spake the one,--"Give me this girl,
With her sea-blue eyes, and
brow of pearl."
The other answered in gloomy scorn,
"She's mine, oh brother!--my
oath is sworn."
No other word spake either king--
In their golden sheaths the keen
swords ring.
Together they pass from the lighted hall--
Deep lies the snow by the
castle-wall.
Steel-sparks and torch-sparks in showers fall.
Two kings lie dead
upon Orkadal.
A SONG.
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say,
Why I think
of you more, and more, and more
As day flits after day.
Nor why I
see in the Summer skies
Only the beauty of your sweet eyes,
The
power by which you sway
A kingdom of hearts, that little you prize--

I shouldn't like to say.
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say
Why I hear
your voice, so fresh and pure,
In the dash of the laughing spray.
Nor
why the wavelets that all the while,
In many a diamond-glittering file,

With truant sunbeams play,
Should make me remember your
rippling smile--
I shouldn't like to say.
I shouldn't like to say, I'm sure,
I shouldn't like to say,
Why all the

birds should chirp of you,
Who live so far away.
Robin and oriole
sing to me
From the leafy depths of our apple-tree,
With trunk so
gnarled and gray--
But why your name should their burden be
I
shouldn't like to say.
MAKING NEW YEAR'S CALLS.
Shining patent-leather,
Tie of spotless white;
Through the muddy
weather
Rushing 'round till night.
Gutters all o'erflowing,
Like
Niagara Falls;
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's calls.
Rushing up the door-step,
Ringing at the bell--
"Mrs. Jones receive
to-day?"
"Yes, sir." "Very well."
Sending in your pasteboard,

Waiting in the halls,
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's
calls.
Skipping in the parlour,
Bowing to the floor,
Lady of the house
there,
Half a dozen more;
Ladies' dresses gorgeous,
Paniers,
waterfalls,--
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's calls.
"Wish you Happy New Year"--
"Many thanks, I'm sure."
"Many
calls, as usual?"
"No; I think they're fewer."
Staring at the carpet,

Gazing at the walls;
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's
calls.
"Really, I must go now,
Wish I had more leisure."
"Wont you have
a glass of wine?"
"Ah, thanks!--greatest pleasure."
Try to come the
graceful,
Till your wine-glass falls;
Bless me! this is pleasant,


Making New Year's calls.
Hostess looks delighted--
Out of doors you rush;
Sit down at the