“I have straighten’d, I’ve bent,
I’ve tried all, I declare,
I’ve perfumed it with sweetest of
sighs;
’Tis feather’d with ringlets my mother
might wear,
And the barb gleams with light from young
eyes;
But it falls without touching—I’ll
break it, I vow,
For there’s Hymen beginning to pout;
He’s complaining his torch burns so dull and
so low,
That Zephyr might puff it right out.”
Little Cupid went on with his pitiful tale,
Till Vulcan the weapon restored;
“There, take it, young sir; try it now—if
it fail,
I will ask neither fee nor reward.”
The urchin shot out, and rare havoc he made,
The wounded and dead were untold;
But no wonder the rogue had such slaughtering trade,
For the arrow was laden with gold.
THE CROCODILE’S DINNER PARTY.
BY E. VINTON BLAKE.
FROM “GOOD CHEER.”
A wily crocodile
Who dwelt upon the Nile,
Bethought himself one day to give a
dinner.
“Economy,” said he,
“Is chief of all with me,
And shall considered be—as
I’m a sinner!”
With paper, pen
and ink,
He sat him down to think;
And first of all, Sir Lion he invited;
The northern wolf who dwells
In rocky Arctic dells;
The Leopard and the Lynx, by blood
united.
Then Mr. Fox the
shrewd—
No lover he of good—
And Madam Duck with sober step and
stately;
And Mr. Frog serene
In garb of bottle green,
Who warbled bass, and bore himself
sedately.
Sir Crocodile,
content,
The invitations sent.
The day was come—his guests
were all assembled;
They fancied that some guile
Lurked in his ample smile;
Each on the other looked, and somewhat
trembled.
A lengthy time
they wait
Their hunger waxes great;
And still the host in conversation
dallies.
At last the table’s laid,
With covered dishes spread,
And out in haste the hungry party sallies.
But when—the
covers raised—
On empty plates they gazed,
Each on the other looked with dire
intention;
Ma’am Duck sat last of
all,
And Mr. Frog was small;—
She softly swallowed him, and made
no mention!
This Mr. Fox perceives,
And saying, “By your leaves,
Some punishment is due for this transgression.”
He gobbled her in haste,
Then much to his distaste,
By Mr. Lynx was taken in possession!
The Wolf without
a pause,
In spite of teeth and claws,
Left nothing of the Lynx to tell the
story;
The Leopard all irate
At his relation’s fate,
Made mince meat of that wolfish monster
hoary.
The Lion raised
his head;
“Since I am king,”
he said,
“It ill befits the king to lack
his dinner!”
Then on the Leopard sprang,
With might of claw and fang,
And made a meal upon that spotted sinner!—