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Recaptured Rhymes

Being a Batch of Political and Other Fugitives Arrested and Brought to Book. By H. D. Traill

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A DRAWING-ROOM BALLAD.
 
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113

A DRAWING-ROOM BALLAD.

Can you recall an ode to June
Or lines to any river
In which you do not meet the “moon,”
And see “the moonbeams quiver”?
I've heard such songs to many a tune,
But never yet—no niver—
Have I escaped that rhyme to “June”
Or missed that rhyme to “river.”
At times the bard from his refrain
A moment's respite snatches,
The while his over-cudgelled brain
At some new jingle catches;

114

Yet long from the unlucky moon
Himself he cannot sever,
But grasps once more that rhyme to “June,”
And seeks a rhyme to “river.”
Then let not indolence be blamed
On him whose verses show it
By shunning “burdens” (rightly named
For reader and for poet);
For rhymes must fail him late or soon,
Nor can he deal for ever
In words whose sound resembles “June,”
And assonants of “river.”
When “loon”'s been used, and “shoon” and “spoon,”
And “stīver” sounded “stĭver,”
Think of a bard reduced to “'coon,”
And left alone with “liver”!

115

Ah, then, how blessèd were the boon!
How doubly blest the giver,
Who gave him one rhyme more for “June,”
And one more rhyme for “river”!