With eyes like mayteors, And parfect phaytures, Which aisy bate yours, Great Vanus, fair! I'll ne'er forget her, As first I met her, On (what place betther?) The cabin stair!
Her darlint face is Beyond all praises, And thin for graces, There's not her like. All other lasses She just surpasses, As wine molasses, Or salmon pike!
Her hair's the brightest, Her hand the whitest, Her step the lightest,-- Ah me, those fate! You need not tell a--bout Cinderella, For hers excel a- ny boots you'll mate!
With look the purest, That ever tourist, From eyes azurest, Saw anywhere, I met her blushing, As I went rushing, For bitter beer, down The cabin stair.
Then she sat and smiled, where, On luggage piled there, 1 She me beguiled,--ne'er A smile like that! And I began to Compose a canto On Frank's portmanteau, Whereon she sat.
I've read in story, What dades of glory, Knights grand and gory, For love have wrought. But ne'er was duel, Nor torture cruel, I'd shun, my jewel, If you besought!
For her voice is swatest, Her shape the natest, And she complatest Of womankind. And while that river, In sunlight quiver, Oh, sure, he'll niver Her aqual find
Troth, since we've parted, I've felt down-hearted, And disconsarted,-- A cup too low! And so I think, boys, We'd better drink, boys, Her health in whiskey, Before we go.
1 This luggage included a long narrow box, and, from an aperture at the top there emerged from time to time a peacock's head, exhibiting (despite the presence of Juno) an expression of sublime misery. I doubt whether that bird will ever take heart to spread his tail again!
“He'll forget her to-morrow morning,” said Frank to his neighbour, in a pretended whisper, which all could hear, “and it's better so, poor fellow, for the girl's ridiculously fond of me, and I've got no end of her hair in my pocket.”
Of course, there were plenty of fools to giggle; but I never could see any wit in lies. I am quite positive, that, when we parted, she returned my regretful gaze, and
“Phyllida amo ante alias; nam me discedere flevit.”
Undoubtedly, there is solace for the forlorn in the pleasant city of _Limerick_. Justly celebrated for its Hooks, it is far more to be admired for its Eyes, for, although the former are the best in all the world, the latter are much more killing! No sooner did we emerge from Mr. Cruise's very excellent and extensive hotel, than we were attacked and surrounded by the lace-girls, in their blue cloaks, drooping gracefully, with heads uncovered, or rather most becomingly covered with thick and glossy hair. At first, we recklessly resolved to cut a way through with our umbrellas, or perish in the attempt, but the utter hopelessness of such a fearful step induced us finally to capitulate, _the Siege of Limerick_ was raised, and commercial relations peacefully established between the besiegers and besieged. I did just venture to inquire what use I could possibly make of four superficial inches of fine linen, surrounded by very delicate openwork, not less than a foot in width, and was immediately answered, “And shure, yer honner'll be for buying the handkercher, to dry up the tares of the swate young lady, as is waping for ye over the says.”