. The lays of a lawyer . climbs aboutOutside the window on the trellis,The flower-clusters all are out—Just sniff and see how sweet their smell , let us go, and in the fieldsWell pass the afternoon together;Come, work to pleasure always yieldsOn days rejoicing in such weather. JANE No, no; I found this coat all know, tis Walters smoking-jacket,And theres a button— MAUD Oh, forlornExcuse !—a button !—let it lack it!The rent was bad, but after all,Dear sister Jane, why should you sew it?Youre not a servant at his call. 65 Besides, tis odds hell never know , drop the nasty
. The lays of a lawyer . climbs aboutOutside the window on the trellis,The flower-clusters all are out—Just sniff and see how sweet their smell , let us go, and in the fieldsWell pass the afternoon together;Come, work to pleasure always yieldsOn days rejoicing in such weather. JANE No, no; I found this coat all know, tis Walters smoking-jacket,And theres a button— MAUD Oh, forlornExcuse !—a button !—let it lack it!The rent was bad, but after all,Dear sister Jane, why should you sew it?Youre not a servant at his call. 65 Besides, tis odds hell never know , drop the nasty thing and donYour dear old-fashioned muslin bonnet. JANE No; I must sew this button on. MAUD At window, seeing cousin Walter approachingThen go the while I work upon it. JANE Handing jacket to maud Well, if you will, Ill run and see the tears already mended. Exit JANE and enter cousin Walter After an admiring glance at mauds occupation Dear Mauds an angel! I confess I wonder why Janes more commended. 66. BY REQUEST O you wish me to write a poem foryou,The scene to be laid in a ball-room you sayWith a heroine looking as heroinesdo When dancing they turn the night intoday,And a hero rigged out in a clawhammer coat. Patent leathers below, and a mull tie above ?What you wished for a theme I neglected presume you prefer I should sing aboutlove. Here goes then—my heroine—must I define ? Or will you just turn to the glass at your by your reflection the features divine ? If you dont hit the mark youll not go verywide—For her face is perfection, and as for her mind The philosophers stone was nothing, her pretty conceits, which ever refined The meanest of dross into purest of gold ; 67 My hero—good lack ! he was nothing at all,A commonplace every-day sort of a swain,Just the kind of a man you might meet at care if you never should see him again,But, alas, the poor fellow ! he, for his sins. Fell madly in love with this beau
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidlaysoflawyer, bookyear1901
