Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/12



Of two wise men, each with his saw or saying,

Thus sprouts the wisdom those who like may reap:

“This world’s an Eden, let us all go Maying.”

“This world’s a Wilderness, let’s sit and weep.”

Medio tutissimi—extremes are madness—

In Hebrew pages for discretion seek:

“There is a time for mirth, a time for sadness.”

We would “be like the time” in.

Yet, watching Time at work on youth and beauty,

We would observe, with infinite respect,

That we incline to take that branch of duty

Which he seems most addicted to neglect;

And while the finest head of hair he’s bleaching,

And stealing roses from the freshest cheek,

We would cheat Time himself by simply preaching

How many pleasant things come.

Music, for instance. There’s sweet Clara Horner,

Listening to Mario with her eyes and ears:

Observe her, please, up in the left-hand corner:

Type of the dearest of our English dears.

Our hint may help her to admire or quiz it,

To love Mozart, and laugh at Verdi’s shriek,

And add another pleasure to her visit

(She shouldn’t go much oftener).

Come, Lawyer, why not leave your dusty smother,

Is there not wed to thee s bright-eyed wife?

Take holiday with her, our learned brother,

And lay up health for your autumnal life.

Her form may lose (by gain), the battle pending;

Your learned nose become more like a beak,

Meantime, you’ll find some tale of struggle, ending

In clients, fees, Q. C., in.

And you, our Doctor, must be sometimes wishing

For something else beside that yellow coach.

Send physio to the sick, and go a fishing,

And come back chubby, sound as any roach.

Don’t take the “Lancet” with you on the water,

Or ponder how to smash your rival’s clique;

But take your seldom-treated wife and daughter,

And bid them take three rods, and.

Young Wife, on yonder shore there blow sea-breezes,

Eager your cheek to kiss, your curls to fan,

Your husband—come, you know whatever pleases

Your charming self delights that handsome man.

And you’ve a child, and mother’s faith undoubting

That he’s perfection and a thing unique,

Still, he’d be all the better for an Outing—

There rolls the wave, and here is.