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A Book of Light Verse written by Robert Maynard Leonard


A Book of Light Verse written by Robert Maynard Leonard


This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1910 Excerpt: ...Of screaming Yankee Doodles. I love the haunts of old Cockaigne, Where wit and wealth were squandered; The halls that tell of hoop and train, Where grace and rank have wandered; Those halls where ladies fair and leal First ventured to adore me!--And something of the like I feel For this old street before me. F. Locker-lampson. 301. IN LONDON ON SATURDAY NIGHT Is it not pleasant to wander In town on Saturday night, While people go hither or thither, And shops shed cheerful light? And, arm in arm, while our shadows Chase us along the panes, Are we not quite as cosy As down among country lanes? Nobody knows us, heeds us, Nobody hears or sees, And the shop-lights gleam more gladly Than the moon on hedges and trees; And people coming and going, All upon ends of their own, Though they work a spell on the spirit, Move it more finely alone. The sound seems harmless and pleasant As the murmur of brook and wind; The shops with the fruit and the pictures Have sweetness to suit my mind; And nobody knows us, heeds us, And our loving none reproves,--/, the poor figure-painter! You, the lady he loves! And what if the world should scorn you., For now and again, as you do, Assuming a country kirtle, And bonnet of straw thereto, Or the robe of a vestal virgin, Or a nun's grey gabardine, And keeping a brother and sister By standing and looking divine? And what if the world, moreover, Should silently pass me by, Because, at the dawn of the struggle I labour some stories high! Why, there "s comfort in waiting, working, And feeling one's heart beat right,--And rambling alone, love-making, In London on Saturday night. R. Buchanan. 302. CATHARINA Addressed To Miss Stapleton She came--she is gone--we have met--And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set, And se...

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