 | May Fair |  |
Dear Gaming, if my easy rhyme
Shall ever reach the true sublime;
If ever from the Muse's rill
A drop within my plume distil,
That drop be sacred to thy praise,
Thou “Love” of noble nights and days!
Gaming! to thine, ecstatic witch,
Aladdin's wand was but a switch.
Let Katterfelto Hohenlohe
Work miracles on tooth or toe;
Rescue from purgatory's fires
A nun's four bones, much more a friar's;
Give flesh and blood to wooden legs,
Teach Irish hens to lay fresh eggs:
Or cool the blood, or thin the skulls
Of patriots of the land of bulls;
Or bid old Nick make ropes of sand,—
You'll beat his Highness out of hand.
Shall ever reach the true sublime;
If ever from the Muse's rill
A drop within my plume distil,
That drop be sacred to thy praise,
Thou “Love” of noble nights and days!
Gaming! to thine, ecstatic witch,
Aladdin's wand was but a switch.
Let Katterfelto Hohenlohe
Work miracles on tooth or toe;
185
A nun's four bones, much more a friar's;
Give flesh and blood to wooden legs,
Teach Irish hens to lay fresh eggs:
Or cool the blood, or thin the skulls
Of patriots of the land of bulls;
Or bid old Nick make ropes of sand,—
You'll beat his Highness out of hand.
| May Fair | |