Читать книгу The Lazy Minstrel - Ashby-Sterry Joseph - Страница 17

THOUGH long it is since Titmarsh wrote;

His good advice we still remember,

When bad catarrh and rugged throat

Are rife in town in grey November!

So, if your temper's short or bad,

Or of engagements you are full, man;

Or if you're feeling bored or sad,

Make haste and get aboard the Pullman

And throw all physic to the dogs —

If life's sad burden you would lighten —

Run quick away from London fogs

And call in cheerful Doctor Brighton!

Good Doctor Brighton, a mighty magician is,

See him at once, howe'er bad you may be!

Take his advice – there no better physician is —

Naught is his physic but Sunshine and Sea!

Come down at once then! Leave London in hazy time,

Leave it enshrouded in yellow and brown!

Come here and revel in exquisite lazy time,

Flee from the turmoil and taint of the town!

Blue is the sky and the sunshine is glorious,

Charged is the air with delicious ozone:

Gay is the cliff and most gentle is Boreas,

Come down at once and recover your "tone!"

Though many years have passed away,

And countless cares to not a few come,

The place is bright as in the day

Of Ethel, Clive, and Colonel Newcome:

The East Street shops are just as gay,

The turtle still as good at Mutton's;

The buns at Streeter's – so they say —

As well-beloved by tiny gluttons!

You still can gallop o'er the Down,

Or swim at Brill's just like a Triton.

A smile will supersede your frown

When you consult kind Doctor Brighton!

Here is Mama looking anxious and serious:

List to the patter of smartly shod feet!

Dainty young damsels, whose faces ne'er weary us,

Tailor-made dresses delightfully neat!

Angular ladies in gloomy æsthetic coats,

Maudle and dawdle the afternoon through;

Graceful girlettes in the shortest of petticoats,

Flutter their frills as they walk two-and-two.

Fur-coated beauties in carriages roll about,

Jaded M.P.'s try to trot away cares,

Dandies and poets and loungers here stroll about,

Dignified dowagers bask in Bath-chairs!

Though cynics swear all pleasures fade,

And cry, O tempora mutantur!

The bonny laughing Light Brigade,

Still on the King's Road gaily canter!

And yet upon the Lawns and Pier,

Do lots of pleasant folk commingle:

While still the old, old song we hear —

The lullaby of surf on shingle!

Then let's remain to laugh and laze,

Where light and air enjoyment heighten —

Too short the hours, too few the days,

We pass with merry Doctor Brighton!