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…he Village Champions . Two Sonnets in Praise of a Publisher To an Unappreciative University Sappho in Chic-a-go A Rondel . . A Sonnet of Spring Fashions Mary Rogers. - Ode to Gerald Festus Kelly A Rondel . . The Chemist’s Love-Song Bal Masqué Lines in Spring . , Au Theatre du Grand Guignol . PAGE 47 49 59° 52 54 56 61 63 65 67 72 74 76 79 80 81 82 84 85 87 88 89
…! Flannels are pleasures that have no sting. Everyone’s white and cool and gay ; Everyone looks as if a wing Might any moment sprout and spring, Turning him into an “alb’ inerm’ Angelum,” like Aladdin’s ring; Sing heigh-ho for the glad May Term! O the trees are out to-day! O the buds are blossoming! O the snow and the wind are away! O the sun of the late sweet spring ! 17
A SONNET OF SPRING FASHIONS My Chloe has asked for a sonnet To hymn her ccerulean hat. Of course I mayn’t call it a bonnet (Though the rhyme would come awfully pat). It has cherries and strawberries on it, It’s trimmed with the tail of a rat. I think that this verse, if she con it, Is likely to fall very flat. Better luck, as I hope, with the sestet. I cannot write sonnets, my Chloe, They turn out so terribly doughy ! I only write this, as you pressed it. Though now, you'll admit, it looks showy, In writing I heartily blest it! 80
…am sleeps along the glade; No nymphs are bathing on the strand, Nor in the pools a Tuscan maid ; Nor lurks a fawn within the shade ; Nor springs the moss to foxes’ feet; For all the world in sleep is laid Where Love has chosen our retreat. They wake when drops the spring sun down Beyond the poplar yonder set, Beyond the quiet little town, Beyond the distant coronet 41
LINES IN SPRING Note.—In these musica] lines I have attacked the problem of Phonetic Spelling from an entirely original standpoint. The result is the vin- dication of my noble theories on this matter. THOUGH through and hiccough have nough rhyme, enough, Yough ought tough grant, remain tough make one cough. Here goughs — Ough! sweet tough rough oughoughn the lough Though, trough, I might through ough, if it were rough, My sougher. Hough I loughve the oughx sough tough That goughs, loughed loughing, where the ripples sough With the blough blough…
…certainty) so perfectly convinced by this time are all wise men that the score of life is at Love-all. So we twain will sing together ;— Spring regilds her coronet; Summer comes and don’t go neither, [This line is neither grammar nor rhyme, I'm afraid ; it’s my mistake entirely, I took a perfectly absurd word to begin with, and after getting as far as this it would be a pity to turn back; the rhymes’ll get worse for certain, so don’t be surprised if they do, but I haven’t lost hope of sticking to grammar yet.] It is goodly and glad to see Gilbe…