Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/897

 WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY

724 Persicos Odi

I EAR Lucy, you know what my wish is,-

��I hate all your Frenchified fuss. Your silly entrees and made dishes

Were never intended for us. No footman in lace and in ruffles

Need dangle behind my arm-chair; . And never mind seeking for truffles, Although they be ever so rare.

But a plain leg of mutton, my Lucy,

I pr'ythee get ready at three: Have it smoking, and tender, and juicy,

And what better meat can there be? And when it has feasted the master,

'Twill amply suffice for the maid; Meanwhile I will smoke my canaster,

And tipple my ale in the shade.

��ROBERT BROWNING 725 Song from 'Paracelsus'

rEAP cassia, sandal-buds and stripes

Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smear'd with dull nard an Indian wipes From out her hair such balsam falls Down sea-side mountain pedestals, From tree-tops where tired winds are fain, Spent with the vast and howling main, To treasure half their island-gain.

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