The Poetry Corner

Maud

By Henry S. Leigh

Nay, I cannot come into the garden just now, Tho' it vexes me much to refuse: But I must have the next set of waltzes, I vow, With Lieutenant de Boots of the Blues. I am sure you'll be heartily pleas'd when you hear That our ball has been quite a success. As for me, I've been looking a monster, my dear. In that old-fashion'd guy of a dress. You had better at once hurry home, dear, to bed; It is getting so dreadfully late. You may catch the bronchitis or cold in the head If you linger so long at our gate. Don't be obstinate, Alfy; come, take my advice, For I know you're in want of repose: Take a basin of gruel (you'll find it so nice), And remember to tallow your nose. No, I tell you I can't and I shan't get away, For De Boots has implor'd me to sing. As to you, if you like it, of course you can stay, You were always an obstinate thing. If you feel it a pleasure to talk to the flow'rs About "babble and revel and wine," When you might have been snoring for two or three hours, Why, it's not the least business of mine.