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“Tell me, HENRY WADSWORTH, ALFRED POET CLOSE, or MISTER TUPPER, Do you write the bon bon costume jewellery mottoes my ELVIRA pulls at supper?” But HENRY WADSWORTH smiled, and said he had not had that honour; And ALFRED, too, disclaimed the words that told so much upon her. “MISTER MARTIN TUPPER, POET CLOSE, I beg of you inform us;” But my question seemed to throw them both into a rage enormous. MISTER CLOSE expressed a wish that he could only get anigh to me; And MISTER MARTIN TUPPER sent the following reply to me: “A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread a bandit,” – Which I know was very clever; but I didn’t understand it. Seven weary years I wandered – Patagonia, China, Norway, Till at last I sank exhausted at a pastrycook his doorway. There were fuchsias and geraniums, and daffodils and myrtle, So I entered, and I ordered half a basin of mock turtle. He was plump and he was chubby, he was smooth and he was rosy, And his little wife was pretty and particularly cosy. And he chirped and sang, and skipped about, and laughed with laughter hearty – He was wonderfully active for so very stout a party. And I said, “O gentle pieman, why so very, very merry? Is it purity of conscience, or your one-and-seven sherry?” But he answered, “I’m so happy – no profession could be dearer – If I tiffany co uk am not humming ‘Tra! la! la!’ I’m singing ‘Tirer, lirer!’ “First I go and make the patties, and the puddings, and the jellies, Then I make a sugar bird-cage, which upon a table swell is; “Then I polish all the silver, which a supper-table lacquers; Then I write the pretty mottoes which you find inside the crackers.” – “Found at last!” I madly shouted. “Gentle pieman, you astound me!” Then I waved the turtle soup enthusiastically round me. The Bab Ballads 21 And antique tiffany jewelry I shouted and I danced until he’d quite a crowd around him – And I rushed away exclaiming, “I have found him! I have found him!” And I heard the gentle pieman in the road behind me trilling, “‘Tira, lira!’ stop him, stop him! ‘Tra! la! la!’ the soup’s a shilling!” But until I reached ELVIRA’S home, I never, never waited, And ELVIRA to her FERDINAND’S irrevocably mated! The Bab Ballads 22 tiffany discount jewellery Ballad: Lorenzo De Lardy DALILAH DE DARDY adored The very correctest of cards, LORENZO DE LARDY, a lord – He was one of Her Majesty’s Guards. DALILAH DE DARDY was fat, DALILAH DE DARDY was old – (No doubt in the world about that) But DALILAH DE DARDY had gold. LORENZO DE LARDY was tall, The flower of maidenly pets, Young ladies would love at his call, But LORENZO DE LARDY had debts. His money-position was queer, And one of his favourite freaks Was to hide himself three times a year, In Paris, for several weeks. Many days didn’t pass him before He fanned himself into a flame, For a beautiful “DAM DU COMPTWORE,” And this was her singular name: ALICE EULALIE CORALINE EUPHROSINE COLOMBINA THERESE JULIETTE STEPHANIE CELESTINE CHARLOTTE RUSSE DE LA SAUCE MAYONNAISE. She booked all the orders and tin, Accoutred in showy fal-lal, At a two-fifty Restaurant, in The glittering Palais Royal. He’d gaze in her orbit of blue, Her hand he would tenderly squeeze, But the words of her tongue that he knew Were limited strictly to these: “CORALINE CELESTINE EULALIE, Houp le! Je vous aime, oui, mossoo, Combien donnez moi aujourd’hui Bonjour, Mademoiselle, parlez voo.” MADEMOISELLE DE LA SAUCE MAYONNAISE Was a witty and beautiful miss, Extremely correct in her ways, But her English consisted of this: “Oh my! pretty man, if you please, Blom boodin, biftek, currie lamb, Bouldogue, two franc half, quite ze cheese, Rosbif, me spik Angleesh, godam.” A waiter, for seasons before, Had basked in her beautiful gaze, And burnt to dismember MILOR, HE LOVED DE LA SAUCE MAYONNAISE. He said to her, “Mechante THERESE, Avec desespoir tu m’accables. Penses-tu, DE LA SAUCE MAYONNAISE, Ses intentions sont The Bab Ballads 23 honorables? “Flirtez toujours, ma belle, si tu oses – Je me vengerai ainsi, ma chere, JE LUI DIRAI DE QUOI L’ON COMPOSE VOL AU VENT E LA FINANCIERE!” LORD LARDY knew nothing of this – The waiter’s devotion ignored, But he gazed on the beautiful miss, And never seemed weary or bored. The waiter would screw up his nerve, His fingers he’d snap and he’d dance – And LORD LARDY would smile and observe, “How strange are the customs of France!” Well, after delaying a space, His tradesmen no longer would wait: Returning to cheap tiffany jewelry England apace, He yielded himself to his fate. LORD LARDY espoused, with a groan, MISS DARDY’S developing charms, And agreed to tag on to his own, Her name and her newly-found arms. The waiter he knelt at the toes Of an ugly and thin coryphee, Who danced in the hindermost rows At the Theatre des Varietes. MADEMOISELLE DE LA SAUCE MAYONNAISE Didn’t yield to a gnawing despair But married a soldier, and plays As a pretty and pert Vivandiere. The Bab Ballads 24 Ballad: Disillusioned – By An Ex- Enthusiast Oh, that my soul its gods could see As years ago they seemed to me When first I painted them; Invested with the circumstance Of old conventional romance: Exploded theorem! The bard who could, all men above, Inflame my soul with songs of love, And, with his verse, inspire The craven soul who feared to die With all the glow of chivalry And old heroic fire; I found him in a beerhouse tap Awaking from a gin-born nap, With pipe and sloven dress; Amusing chums, who fooled his bent, With muddy, maudlin sentiment, And tipsy foolishness! The novelist, whose painting pen To legions of fictitious men A real existence lends, Brain-people whom we rarely fail, Whene’er we hear their names, to hail As old and welcome friends; I found in clumsy snuffy suit, In seedy glove, and blucher boot, Uncomfortably big. Particularly commonplace, With vulgar, coarse, stockbroking face, And spectacles and wig. My favourite actor who, at will, With mimic woe my eyes could fill With unaccustomed brine: A being who appeared to me (Before I knew him well) to be A song incarnadine; I found a coarse unpleasant man With speckled chin – unhealthy, wan – Of self-importance full: Existing in an atmosphere That reeked of gin and pipes and beer – Conceited, fractious, dull. The warrior whose ennobled name Is woven with his country’s fame, Triumphant over all, I found weak, palsied, bloated, blear; His province seemed to be, to leer At bonnets in Pall Mall. Would that ye always shone, who write, Bathed in your own innate limelight, And ye who battles wage, Or that in darkness I had died Before my soul had ever sighed To see you off the stage! The Bab Ballads 25 Ballad: Babette’s Love BABETTE claddagh ring she was a fisher gal, With jupon striped and cap in crimps. She passed her days inside the Halle, Or catching little nimble shrimps. Yet she was sweet as flowers in May, With no professional bouquet. JACOT was, of the Customs bold, An officer, at gay Boulogne, He loved BABETTE – his love tiffany and co bracelet he told, And sighed, “Oh, soyez vous my own!” But “Non!” said she, “JACOT, my pet, Vous etes trop scraggy pour BABETTE. “Of one alone I nightly dream, An able mariner is he, And gaily serves the Gen’ral Steam- Boat Navigation Companee. I’ll marry him, if he but will – His name, I rather think, is BILL. “I see him when he’s not aware, Upon our hospitable coast, Reclining with an easy air Upon the PORT against a post, A-thinking of, I’ll dare to say, His native Chelsea far away!” “Oh, mon!” exclaimed the Customs bold, “Mes yeux!” he said (which means “my eye”) “Oh, chere!” he also cried, I’m told, “Par Jove,” he added, with a sigh. “Oh, mon! oh, chere! mes yeux! par Jove! Je n’aime pas cet enticing cove!” The PANTHER’S captain stood hard by, He was a man of morals strict If e’er a sailor winked his eye, Straightway he had that sailor licked, Mastheaded all (such was his code) Who dashed or jiggered, blessed or blowed. He wept to think a tar of his Should lean so gracefully on posts, He sighed and sobbed to think of this, On foreign, French, and friendly coasts. “It’s human natur’, p’raps – if so, Oh, isn’t human natur’ low!” He called his BILL, who pulled his curl, He said, “My BILL, I understand You’ve captivated some young gurl On this here French and foreign land. Her tender heart your beauties jog – They do, you know they do, you dog. “You have a graceful way, I learn, Of leaning airily on posts, By which you’ve been and caused to burn A tender flame on these here coasts. A fisher gurl, I much regret, – Her age, sixteen – her name, BABETTE. “You’ll marry her, you gentle tar – Your union I myself will bless, And The Bab Ballads 26 when you matrimonied are, I will appoint her stewardess.” But WILLIAM hitched himself and sighed, And cleared his throat, and thus replied: “Not so: unless you’re fond of strife, You’d better mind your own affairs, I have an able-bodied wife Awaiting me at Wapping Stairs; If all this here to her I tell, She’ll larrup you and me as well. “Skin-deep, and valued at a pin, Is beauty such as VENUS owns – HER beauty is beneath her skin, And lies in layers on her bones. The other sailors of the crew They always calls her ‘Whopping Sue!’” “Oho!” the Captain said, “I see! And is she then so very strong?” “She’d take your honour’s scruff,” said he “And pitch you over to Bolong!” “I pardon you,” the Captain said, “The fair BABETTE you needn’t wed. claddagh ring ” Perhaps the Customs had his will, And coaxed the scornful girl to wed, Perhaps the Captain and his BILL, And WILLIAM’S little wife are dead; Or p’raps they’re all alive and well: I cannot, cannot, cannot tell. The Bab Ballads 27 Ballad: To My Bride – (Whoever She May Be) Oh! little maid! – (I do not know your name Or who you are, affordable jewelry so, as a safe precaution I’ll add) – Oh, buxom widow! married dame! (As one of these must be your present portion) Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you, And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you. You’ll marry soon – within a year or discounted tiffany jewelry twain – A bachelor of CIRCA two and thirty: Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain, And when you’re intimate, you’ll call him “BERTIE.” Neat – dresses well; his temper has been classified As hasty; but he’s very quickly pacified. You’ll find him working mildly at the Bar, After a touch at two or three professions, From easy affluence extremely far, A brief or two on Circuit – “soup” at Sessions; A pound or two from whist and backing horses, And, say three hundred from his own resources. Quiet in harness; free from serious vice, His faults are not particularly shady, You’ll never find him “SHY” – for, once or twice Already, he’s been driven by a lady, Who parts with him – perhaps a poor excuse for him – Because she hasn’t any further use for him. Oh! tiffany jewelry uk bride of mine – tall, dumpy, dark, or fair! Oh! widow – wife, maybe, or blushing maiden, I’ve told YOUR fortune; solved the gravest care With which your mind has hitherto been laden. I’ve prophesied correctly, never doubt it; Now tell me mine – and please be quick about it! You – only you – can tell me, an’ you will, To whom I’m man jewelry destined shortly to be mated, Will she run up a heavy MODISTE’S bill? If so, I want to hear her income stated (This is tiffany and co bracelet a point which interests me

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