 | A Selection from the Works of Frederick Locker |  |
40
OLD LETTERS.
Old letters! wipe away the tear
For vows and hopes so vainly worded?
A pilgrim finds his journal here
Since first his youthful loins were girded.
For vows and hopes so vainly worded?
A pilgrim finds his journal here
Since first his youthful loins were girded.
Yes, here are wails from Clapham Grove,
How could philosophy expect us
To live with Dr. Wise, and love
Rice pudding and the Greek Delectus?
How could philosophy expect us
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Rice pudding and the Greek Delectus?
Explain why childhood's path is sown
With moral and scholastic tin-tacks;
Ere sin original was known,
Did Adam groan beneath the syntax?
With moral and scholastic tin-tacks;
Ere sin original was known,
Did Adam groan beneath the syntax?
How strange to parley with the dead!
Keep ye your green, wan leaves? How many
From Friendship's tree untimely shed!
And here is one as sad as any;
Keep ye your green, wan leaves? How many
From Friendship's tree untimely shed!
And here is one as sad as any;
A ghastly bill! “I disapprove,”
And yet She help'd me to defray it—
What tokens of a Mother's love!
O, bitter thought! I can't repay it.
And yet She help'd me to defray it—
What tokens of a Mother's love!
O, bitter thought! I can't repay it.
And here's the offer that I wrote
In '33 to Lucy Diver;
And here John Wylie's begging note,—
He never paid me back a stiver.
In '33 to Lucy Diver;
And here John Wylie's begging note,—
He never paid me back a stiver.
And here my feud with Major Spike,
Our bet about the French Invasion;
I must confess I acted like
A donkey upon that occasion.
Our bet about the French Invasion;
42
A donkey upon that occasion.
Here's news from Paternoster Row!
How mad I was when first I learnt it:
They would not take my Book, and now
I'd give a trifle to have burnt it.
How mad I was when first I learnt it:
They would not take my Book, and now
I'd give a trifle to have burnt it.
And here a pile of notes, at last,
With “love,” and “dove,” and “sever,” “never,”—
Though hope, though passion may be past,
Their perfume is as sweet as ever.
With “love,” and “dove,” and “sever,” “never,”—
Though hope, though passion may be past,
Their perfume is as sweet as ever.
A human heart should beat for two,
Despite the scoffs of single scorners;
And all the hearths I ever knew
Had got a pair of chimney corners.
Despite the scoffs of single scorners;
And all the hearths I ever knew
Had got a pair of chimney corners.
See here a double violet—
Two locks of hair—a deal of scandal;
I'll burn what only brings regret—
Go, Betty, fetch a lighted candle.
Two locks of hair—a deal of scandal;
I'll burn what only brings regret—
Go, Betty, fetch a lighted candle.
| A Selection from the Works of Frederick Locker | |