Since "Peggy's locks" made Burns neglect his

team,

And Stella's smile lured Johnson from his tea

may

not tell thee what thou art to me!

But ever dwells the soft voice in my ear,

Whispering of what Time is, what Man might be, Would he but "do the duty that lies near,"

And cut clubs, cards, champagne, balls, billiardrooms, and beer.

LINES SUGGESTED BY THE FOURTEENTH

OF FEBRUARY.

DARKNESS succeeds to twilight:

Through lattice and through skylight The stars no doubt, if one looked out,

Might be observed to shine:

And sitting by the embers

I elevate my members

On a stray chair, and then and there

Commence a Valentine.

Yea! by St. Valentinus,

Emma shall not be minus

What all young ladies, whate'er their grade is

Expect to-day no doubt:

Emma the fair, the stately

Whom I beheld so lately,

LINES SUGGESTED BY THE 14th FEBRUARY. 41

Smiling beneath the snow-white wreath

Which told that she was "out."

Wherefore fly to her, swallow,

And mention that I'd "follow,"

And "pipe and trill," et cetera, till

I died, had I but wings:

Say the North's "true and tender,"

The South an old offender;

And hint in fact, with your well-known tact,

All kinds of pretty things.

Say I grow hourly thinner,

Simply abhor my dinner

Tho' I do try and absorb some viand

Each day, for form's sake merely :

And ask her, when all's ended,

And I am found extended,

With vest blood-spotted and cut carotid,

To think on Her's sincerely.

"HIC VIR, HIC EST."

OFTEN, when o'er tree and turret,

Eve a dying radiance flings,

By that ancient pile I linger

Known familiarly as "King's."

And the ghosts of days departed

Rise, and in my burning breast

All the undergraduate wakens,

And my spirit is at rest.

What, but a revolting fiction,
Seems the actual result

Of the Census's enquiries

Made upon the 15th ult.?

Still my soul is in its boyhood;

Nor of year or changes recks,

Though my scalp is almost hairless,

And my figure grows convex.

Backward moves the kindly dial;

And I'm numbered once again

With those noblest of their species

Called emphatically 'Men':

Loaf, as I have loafed aforetime,

Through the streets, with tranquil mind,

And a long-backed fancy-mongrel

Trailing casually behind:

Past the Senate-house I saunter,

Whistling with an easy grace;

Past the cabbage-stalks that carpet
Still the beefy market-place;

Poising evermore the eye-glass

In the light sarcastic eye,

Lest, by chance, some breezy nursemaid

Pass, without a tribute, by.