No.8

SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE

6
In the Cemetery

“You see those mother's squabbling there?”
Remarks the man of the cemetery.
“One says in tears, Tis mine lies here!
Another, Nay, mine, you Pharisee!
Another, How dare you move my flowers
And put your own on this grave of ours!
But all their children were laid therein
At different times, like sprats in a tin.

“And then the main drain had to cross,
And we moved the lot some nights ago,
And packed them away in the general foss
With hundreds more. But their folks don't know,
And as well cry over a new-laid drain
As anything else, to ease your pain!”

-o0o-

7
Outside the Window

“My stick!” he says, and turns in the lane
To the house just left, whence a vixen voice
Comes out with the firelight through the pane,
And he sees within that the girl of his choice
Stands rating her mother with eyes aglare
For something said while he was there.

“At last I behold her soul undraped!”
Thinks the man who had loved her more than himself;
“My God! - 'tis but narrowly I have escaped.
My precious porcelain proves it delf.”
His face has reddened like one ashamed,
And he steals off - leaving his stick unclaimed.

-o0o-

8
In the Study

He enters, and mute on the edge of a chair
Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger there,
A type of decayed gentility;
And by some small signs he well can guess
That she comes to him almost breakfastless.

“I have called - I hope I do not err -
I am looking for a purchaser
Of some score volumes of the works
Of eminent divines I own,
Left by my father - though it irks
My patience to offer them.” And she smiles
As if necessity were unknown;
“But the truth of it is that oftenwhiles
I have wished, as I am fond of art,
To make my rooms a little smart.”
And lightly still she laughs to him,
As if to sell were a mere gay whim,
And that, to be frank, Life were indeed
To her not vinegar and gall,
But fresh and honey-like; and Need
No household skeleton at all.

-o0o-

9
At the Altar-rail

"My bride is not coming, alas!" says the groom,
And the telegram shakes in his hand. "I own
It was hurried! We met at a dancing-room
When I went to the Cattle Show alone,
And then, next night, where the Fountain leaps,
And the Street of the Quarter Circle sweeps.
Ay, she won me to ask her to be my wife,
'Twas foolish perhaps! - to forsake the ways
Of the flaring town for a farmer's life.
She agreed. And we fixed it. Now she says:
It's sweet of you, dear, to prepare me a nest,
But a swift, short, gay life suits me best.
What I really am you have never gleaned;
I had eaten the apple ere you were weaned.”

-o0o-

10
In the Nuptial Chamber

“O That mastering tune?” And up in the bed
Like a lace-robed phantom springs the bride;
“And why?” asks the man she had that day wed,
With a start, as the band plays on outside.
“Its the townsfolks' cheery compliment
Because of our marriage, my Innocent.”

“O but you don't know! 'Tis the passionate air
To which my old Love waltzed with me,
And I swore as we spun that none should share
My home, my kisses, till death, save he!
And he dominates me and thrills me through,
And it’s he I embrace while embracing you!”

-o0o-

Next Sunday the remaining five poems in Satires of Circumstance

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