Though slender walls our hearths divide,
No word has passed from either side,
Your days, red-lettered all, must glide
Unvexed by labour:
I've seen you weep, and could have wept;
I've heard you sing, and may have slept;
Sometimes I hear your chimneys swept,
My charming neighbour!
Your pets are mine. Pray what may ail
The pup, once eloquent of tail?
I wonder why your nightingale
Is mute at sunset!
Your puss, demure and pensive, seems
Too fat to mouse. She much esteems
Yon sunny wall--and sleeps and dreams
Of mice she once ate.
Our tastes agree. I doat upon
Frail jars, turquoise and celadon,
The "Wedding March" of Mendelssohn,
And _Penseroso_.
When sorely tempted to purloin
Your _pieta_ of Marc Antoine,
Fair Virtue doth fair play enjoin,
Fair Virtuoso!
At times an Ariel, cruel-kind,
Will kiss my lips, and stir your blind,
And whisper low, "She hides behind;
Thou art not lonely."
The tricksy sprite did erst assist
At hushed Verona's moonlight tryst;
Sweet Capulet! thou wert not kissed
By light winds only.
I miss the simple days of yore,
When two long braids of hair you wore,
And _chat botte_ was wondered o'er,
In corner cosy.
But gaze not back for tales like those:
'Tis all in order, I suppose,
The Bud is now a blooming ROSE,--
A rosy posy!
Indeed, farewell to bygone years;
How wonderful the change appears--
For curates now and cavaliers
In turn perplex you:
The last are birds of feather gay,
Who swear the first are birds of prey;
I'd scare them all had I my way,
But that might vex you.
At times I've envied, it is true,
That joyous hero, twenty-two,
Who sent _bouquets_ and _billets-doux_,
And wore a sabre.
The rogue! how tenderly he wound
His arm round one who never frowned;
He loves you well. Now, is he bound
To love _my_ neighbour?
The bells are ringing. As is meet,
White favours fascinate the street,
Sweet faces greet me, rueful-sweet
'Twixt tears and laughter:
They crowd the door to see her go--
The bliss of one brings many woe--
Oh! kiss the bride, and I will throw
The old shoe after.
What change in one short afternoon,--
My Charming Neighbour gone,--so soon!
Is yon pale orb her honey-moon
Slow rising hither?
O lady, wan and marvellous,
How often have we communed thus;
Sweet memories shall dwell with us,
And joy go with her!