 | The White Pilgrim and Other Poems |  |
158
ST. VALENTINE'S TOUR.
St. Valentine jumped from his narrow bed,
And he gave a sleepy stare;
And the good old saint he gaily said,
“It's a very long time that I've been dead,
And I want a change of air.
And he gave a sleepy stare;
And the good old saint he gaily said,
“It's a very long time that I've been dead,
And I want a change of air.
“The world has been taking my name in vain
For many a bygone day;
And though all these years in the earth I've lain
(O Lord! what a sharp rheumatic pain!)
They chatter of me alway.
For many a bygone day;
And though all these years in the earth I've lain
(O Lord! what a sharp rheumatic pain!)
They chatter of me alway.
“The lad to his lassie still once a-year
Sends pictures of me by post;
The clodhopper woos his village-dear
With a portrait grinning from ear to ear,
And the beautiful countess expects to hear,
The soft things she likes the most.
Sends pictures of me by post;
The clodhopper woos his village-dear
With a portrait grinning from ear to ear,
And the beautiful countess expects to hear,
The soft things she likes the most.
159
“I've slept so long that I guess by this
I've slept back my youth divine;
My birthday rights no more I'll miss,
But I'll wake some pretty girl up with a kiss,
And make her my Valentine.”
I've slept back my youth divine;
My birthday rights no more I'll miss,
But I'll wake some pretty girl up with a kiss,
And make her my Valentine.”
So up he rose, and he wrapped him round
With whatever came to hand;
He saw that his flesh was firm and sound,
(For they had embalmed him in holy ground),
But he felt so cramped that the thing he found
The hardest was how to stand.
With whatever came to hand;
He saw that his flesh was firm and sound,
(For they had embalmed him in holy ground),
But he felt so cramped that the thing he found
The hardest was how to stand.
But saints are not puzzled their legs to mend,
And laugh at such trifles small;
He got to back him a Hebrew friend,
And he walked for a twelvemonth, straight on end,
Round the Agricultural Hall.
And laugh at such trifles small;
He got to back him a Hebrew friend,
And he walked for a twelvemonth, straight on end,
Round the Agricultural Hall.
As he walked he slept, as he walked he dined,
And he walked all night and day!
While a she South African, strong of mind,
(But as ugly as you might wish to find),
Was walking the other way.
And he walked all night and day!
While a she South African, strong of mind,
(But as ugly as you might wish to find),
Was walking the other way.
For his every mile she her twain would do,
And fondly on him winked she;
But though he was dead, the old saint knew
What well might be called a thing or two,
And, thought he, “Though I'm good enough for you,
So are not you for me!”
And fondly on him winked she;
But though he was dead, the old saint knew
What well might be called a thing or two,
And, thought he, “Though I'm good enough for you,
So are not you for me!”
160
He flies to the maidens of Spiers and Pond,
And thinks, as their drinks he quaffs,
“Of bar-room Hebes I am not fond,
So I'll stroll up the streets of the Regent and Bond,
And look at the photographs.”
And thinks, as their drinks he quaffs,
“Of bar-room Hebes I am not fond,
So I'll stroll up the streets of the Regent and Bond,
And look at the photographs.”
Fair Myra de Vaux from the window-pane
Shot straight at his heart below:
He rushed to see her at Drury Lane,
But found that the shaft had sped in vain;
For, alas! her modicum of brain
Was all in the shop-windowe.
Shot straight at his heart below:
He rushed to see her at Drury Lane,
But found that the shaft had sped in vain;
For, alas! her modicum of brain
Was all in the shop-windowe.
The rose of fashion—the sweet May Fayre,
The twin photographer's pet—
To the giddy world did the saint repair,
And she danced a cotillon with him there;
But he thought her (which made St. Valentine swear)
The stupidest girl he met.
The twin photographer's pet—
To the giddy world did the saint repair,
And she danced a cotillon with him there;
But he thought her (which made St. Valentine swear)
The stupidest girl he met.
So he hied him away from London vast,
And off to the country went;
To the brawny North he journeyed fast,
By a swift express on his road he passed,
(And they merrily told him that the last
Had met with an accident).
And off to the country went;
To the brawny North he journeyed fast,
By a swift express on his road he passed,
(And they merrily told him that the last
Had met with an accident).
St. Valentine sought in every place,
And he had not wandered far,
Ere he saw two sisters of Irish race,
One dark and the other fair of face,
But like in feature, and pure in grace,
As Irish maidens are.
And he had not wandered far,
Ere he saw two sisters of Irish race,
161
But like in feature, and pure in grace,
As Irish maidens are.
A red and white rose on a common stem,
And the saint he looked and smiled;
For he saw to the honest heart of them,
And knew that never a brighter gem
Was set in a regal diadem
Than either pretty child.
And the saint he looked and smiled;
For he saw to the honest heart of them,
And knew that never a brighter gem
Was set in a regal diadem
Than either pretty child.
The mark of toil the young faces wore,
For they toiled for daily bread;
But the good saint laughed: “My search is o'er,
Your guardian I to the better shore:
My Valentines ye for evermore:”
'Twas thus St. Valentine said.
For they toiled for daily bread;
But the good saint laughed: “My search is o'er,
Your guardian I to the better shore:
My Valentines ye for evermore:”
'Twas thus St. Valentine said.
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