. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. my cosmetic brush,How iJeautys cheek began to blush ; With locks of auburn stain—(Not Goldsmiths Auburn)—nut-brown hair,That made her loveliest of the fair ; Not loveliest of the plain ! XIII. Her liis were of vermilion hue ;Love in her eyes, and Prussian blue, Set nil my heart in flame !A young Pygmalion, I adoredThe maids. I made—but time was stored With evil—and it came ! XIV. Perspective dawnd—and soon I sawMy houses stand again-t its law ; And keeping nil unkept !My beauties wtre no longer thingsFor love and fond imaginings, But horro
. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. my cosmetic brush,How iJeautys cheek began to blush ; With locks of auburn stain—(Not Goldsmiths Auburn)—nut-brown hair,That made her loveliest of the fair ; Not loveliest of the plain ! XIII. Her liis were of vermilion hue ;Love in her eyes, and Prussian blue, Set nil my heart in flame !A young Pygmalion, I adoredThe maids. I made—but time was stored With evil—and it came ! XIV. Perspective dawnd—and soon I sawMy houses stand again-t its law ; And keeping nil unkept !My beauties wtre no longer thingsFor love and fond imaginings, But horrors to be wept! 195 196 A SCHOOL FOR ADULTS. XV, Ah ! why did knowledge ope my eyes ?Why did I set more artist-wise ? It only serves to hintWhat grave defects and wants are mine;That Im no Hilton in design— In nature no Dewint ! XVI. Thrice happy time !—Arts early days !When oer each deed, with sweet self-praise, Narcissiis-like I hung!-When great Rembrandt but little secmd,And sucli Old Ma-^ters all were deemd As nothing to the young !. Better late than never. A SCHOOL FOR ADULTS, Servant. How well yoii saw Vour father to school to-day, kiiowitig how apt He is tri play the truantSon. Im is he not Yet KOne to school?Servant. Siand by, and you shall see. Enter iluce Old Men with satchels, Three. Doniiiie, l)on:ine, duster, 1 hree knaves in a chiser.^on. Oh, this is ; pnsiime. Nay. c-me on ; Is tills yuur sctiool ? was tiiat your lesson, ha? A SCHOOL FOR ADULTS. I9jr I*/ Old Man, Pray, now, good son, indeed, indeedSon-. Indeed Yliu sliall to school. Away with him ! and taTie Thrir wag^hips with him, the whole cluster oi them,. id Old Man. You shant send us, now, so you Old Man, We be none of your father, so we with em, I say ; and tell their schoolmi^tress What truants they are, and bid her pay em Three. Oh ! oh! oh ILady. Alas 1 will nobody beg pardon for The poor old boys ?Traveller. Do men of such fair years
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