Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight By Charles Mackay |
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| XXX. |
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| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. | LXXXIII. IN THE VILLA.
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| LXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
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| LXXXIX. |
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 | CXXVII. |
| 3 | CXXVIII. |
| CXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
| CXXXI. |
| CXXXII. |
 | Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight |  |
107
LXXXIII. IN THE VILLA.
The maids are laughing down below,
Their wage both high and sure,
And sometimes if they think at all,
They think they're very poor:
They groan that they've no cash to buy
Red ribbons for their hair,
Or tawdry silks, to walk abroad
On Sunday when it's fair.
Their wage both high and sure,
And sometimes if they think at all,
They think they're very poor:
They groan that they've no cash to buy
Red ribbons for their hair,
Or tawdry silks, to walk abroad
On Sunday when it's fair.
Poor little grief! 'Tis all they know;
While he, the master sad,
Sits in his study all alone
And thinks he's going mad.
His fortunes dwindle day by day,
His credit's at an end,
And his last hope has failed him thrice—
The “friendship” of a friend.
While he, the master sad,
Sits in his study all alone
And thinks he's going mad.
His fortunes dwindle day by day,
His credit's at an end,
And his last hope has failed him thrice—
The “friendship” of a friend.
To-morrow, Ruin's bolt will fall
On his predestined head,
When bankrupt, desolate and shamed,
He'll wish that he were dead.
The girls will get another place,
And giggle as before,
While he will sink into the depths,
Or pass the prison door,
Perhaps to die—well—that were best!
The world wags evermore!
On his predestined head,
When bankrupt, desolate and shamed,
He'll wish that he were dead.
108
And giggle as before,
While he will sink into the depths,
Or pass the prison door,
Perhaps to die—well—that were best!
The world wags evermore!
| Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | |