AWAY WITH NATURE'S MELODIES.
I
Away with Nature's melodies,
Her roses lack variety,
Her smiles may suit the Hor-
Ticultural Society:
I sing of artificial life,
Where pleasure drains her chalices,
Where fashion cuts out petticoats,
And architecture palaces.
II
Away with brooks, and hooks, and crooks,
Your Phœbes and your Phillises;
The brain-struck bard who doats upon
Each cataract and hill he sees.
In winter time to be sublime,
My city muse embarrasses;
So she shall sing the picturesque,
Of villas and of terraces.
III
Each symptom of the season makes
A London man revive again;
With joy he sees the busy bees
Inhabiting the hive again.
He leaves his cards and kind regards;
Those little sweet formalities,
Expected by all those who show
Their entertaining qualities.
IV
He quits the club, the joint concern,
The pigmy tart and sallad, he
Resigns the cruet of white wine,
For warmer hospitality.
And when he sees the plenteous meal,
He well may wonder any one
Could live so many months upon
A four and twenty-penny one.
