PART XVI.

Comedy, Burlesque, Parody, and
Epitaph.

IN the smoke of my dear cigarito
Cloud castles rise gorgeous and tall,
And Eros, divine muchachito,

With smiles hovers over it all.

But dreaming, forgetting to cherish
The fire at my lips, as it dies,
The dream and the rapture must perish,
And Eros descend from the skies.

O wicked and false muchachito,
Your rapture I yet may recall;

But like my re-lit cigarito,

A bitterness tinges it all.

CAMILLA K. VON K.

IN PRAISE OF WINE.

DIOGENES, Surly and proud,

Who snarled at the Macedon youth,

Delighted in wine that was good,

Because in good wine there was truth;

But, growing as poor as Job,

Unable to purchase a flask,

He chose for his mansion a tub,
And lived by the scent of the cask.

Heraclitus ne'er would deny

To tipple and cherish his heart,
And when he was maudlin he 'd cry
Because he had emptied his quart;

Though some are so foolish to think
He wept at men's folly and vice,
'Twas only his fashion to drink
Till the liquor flowed out of his eyes.

Democritus always was glad

Of a bumper to cheer up his soul, And would laugh like a man that was mad, When over a good flowing bowl. As long as his cellar was stored, The liquor he'd merrily quaff; And when he was drunk as a lord, At those who were sober he 'd laugh.

Copernicus, too, like the rest,

Believed there was wisdom in wine, And thought that a cup of the best Made reason the better to shine. With wine he 'd replenish his veins And make his philosophy reel; Then fancied the world, like his brain, Turned round like a chariot wheel.

Aristotle, that master of arts,

Had been but a dunce without wine;
And what we ascribe to his parts,
Is due to the juice of the vine;
His belly, most writers agree,

Was as big as a watering-trough;
He therefore leaped into the sea,
Because he 'd have liquor enough.

Old Plato, the learned divine,

He fondly to wisdom was prone; But had it not been for good wine, His merits had never been known. By wine we are generous made,

It furnishes fancy with wings; Without it, we ne'er should have had Philosophers, poets, or kings.

WHY TRUTH GOES NAKED.

LIST to a tale well worth the ear

Of all who wit and sense admire ; Invented, it is very clear,

Some ages prior to Matthew Prior.

Falsehood and Truth"

upon a time,"
One day in June's delicious weather
('T was in a distant age and clime),
Like sisters, took a walk together.
On, on their pretty way they took

Through fragrant wood and verdant meadow,
To where a beech beside a brook

Invited rest beneath its shadow.
There, sitting in the pleasant shade
Upon the margin's grassy matting

(A velvet cushion ready made),

The young companions fell to chatting.
Now, while in voluble discourse

On this and that their tongues were running,
As habit bids each speak-perforce,

The one is frank, the other cunning;
Falsehood, at length, impatient grown
With scandals of her own creation,
Said, "Since we two are quite alone,
And nicely screened from observation,
Suppose in this delightful rill,

While all around is so propitious,
We take a bath?" Said Truth, "I will
A bath, I'm sure, will be delicious!
At this her robe she cast aside,

And in the stream that ran before her

She plunged- like Ocean's happy bride

As naked as her mother bore her!
Falsehood at leisure now undressed,

Put off the robes her limbs that hamper,
And having donned Truth's snow-white vest,
Ran off as fast as she could scamper.
Since then the subtle maid, in sooth,

Expert in lies and shrewd evasions,
Has borne the honest name of Truth,
And wears her clothes on all occasions.
While Truth, disdaining to appear

In Falsehood's petticoat and bodice,
Still braves all eyes from year to year
A naked as a marble goddess.

X

IF YOU WANT A KISS, WHY, TAKE IT.

THERE's a jolly Saxon proverb

That is pretty much like this, -
That a man is half in heaven
If he has a woman's kiss.
There is danger in delaying,

For the sweetness may forsake it;

So I tell you, bashful lover,

If you want a kiss, why, take it.

If he'd have her for his own.
Would you have the golden apple,
You must find the tree and shake it;
If the thing is worth the having,

And you want a kiss, why, take it.

Who would burn upon a desert
With a forest smiling by?

Who would change his sunny summer
For a bleak and wintry sky?

Oh, I tell you there is magic,

And you cannot, cannot break it;

For the sweetest part of loving

Is to want a kiss, and take it.

TWO MEN I KNOW.

I KNOW a duke; well, let him pass
I may not call his grace an ass;
Though if I did I'd do no wrong,
Save to the asses and my song.

The duke is neither wise nor good;

He gambles, drinks, scorns womanhood,

And at the age of twenty-four

Was worn and battered as threescore.

I know a waiter in Pall Mall

Who works, and waits, and reasons well; Is gentle, courteous, and refined,

And has a magnet in his mind.

What is it makes his graceless grace

So like a jockey out of place?

What makes the waiter - tell who can

So very like a gentleman ?

Then, beginnin' to abuse me,

She says, "Sarah, you 've been drinkin'!"
I says, "No, mum, you'll excuse me,
But I've merely been a-thinkin'.

"But as sure as I'm a cinder,

That party what you see

A-gettin' out the winder

Have developed from a flea!"