Читать книгу The Humorous Poetry of the English Language; from Chaucer to Saxe - Various - Страница 68

Walking one afternoon along the Strand,

My wond'ring eyes did suddenly expand

Upon a pretty leash of country lasses.

"Heav'ns! my dear beauteous angels, how d'ye do?

Upon my soul I'm monstrous glad to see ye."

"Swinge! Peter, we are glad to meet with you;

We're just to London come—well, pray how be ye?

"We're just a going, while 'tis light,

To see St. Paul's before 'tis dark.

Lord! come, for once, be so polite,

And condescend to be our spark."

"With all my heart, my angels."—On we walk'd,

And much of London—much of Cornwall talk'd.

Now did I hug myself to think

How much that glorious structure would surprise,

How from its awful grandeur they would shrink

With open mouths, and marv'ling eyes!

As near to Ludgate-Hill we drew,

St. Paul's just opening on our view;

Behold, my lovely strangers, one and all,

Gave, all at once, a diabolic squawl,

As if they had been tumbled on the stones,

And some confounded cart had crush'd their bones.

After well fright'ning people with their cries,

And sticking to a ribbon-shop their eyes,

They all rush'd in, with sounds enough to stun,

And clattering all together, thus begun:—

"Swinge! here are colors then, to please!

Delightful things, I vow to heav'n!

Why! not to see such things as these,

We never should have been forgiv'n.

"Here, here, are clever things—good Lord!

And, sister, here, upon my word—

Here, here!—look! here are beauties to delight:

Why! how a body's heels might dance

Along from Launceston to Penzance,

Before that one might meet with such a sight!"

"Come, ladies, 'twill be dark," cried I—"I fear.

Pray let us view St. Paul's, it is so near"—

"Lord! Peter," cried the girls, "don't mind St. Paul!

Sure! you're a most INCURIOUS soul—

Why—we can see the church another day;

Don't be afraid—St. Paul's can't RUN AWAY."

Reader,

If e'er thy bosom felt a thought SUBLIME,

Drop tears of pity with the man of rhyme!