THE PRIMA DONNA.

[_The repertoire of Summer is here made to embrace the prelude of many

good things that come within the wider scope of the holiday season._]

Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind attention!

Here's Summer, at your service (till you bid the lady stop);

Good gentlemen, she's songs for you--'tis time to drop dissension;

'Tis time to cut the cackle and to close awhile the shop;

For stags shall be in Badenoch, and Kent hath twined the hop.

Yes, songs for every son o' you, and all have silver linings!

Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, it's close, your London air;

If I'm mixing up the proverbs, 'tis because my roads run shining

Through the fret of far-off pine-woods, and I'm wishful to be there;

Or at hand among the hop-poles when the vines are trailing fair.

Good gentlemen, the prologue! Here's a programme most attractive:

She's songs for everyone o' you--oh, rare the tunes and rich!

Here's hackneyed _Devon Harbours_ (but the pollock's biting active);

Here's _Evening_ (rise in Hampshire); here's _The Roller on the Pitch_;

And music in the lot o' them--it doesn't matter which.

We've long _White Roads o' Brittany_ and pretty _Wayside Posies_,

_Blue Bays_ (beneath the undercliff--the white sails crawling by);

We've _Rabbits in a Hedgerow_ (how the bustling Clumber noses);

We've _Grouse Across the Valley_ (crashing crumpled from the sky);

And magic's in each note of her--it doesn't matter why.

Here's _Salmon Songs_ and _Shrimping Songs_, according to your pocket;

Here's _Hopping_ (with a lurcher--twice as useful as a gun

For the fat young August pheasants that'll never live to rocket);

Here's a jolly _Song o' Golf Balls_; here's the tune of

_Cubs that Run_;

We've something for each Jack o' you, for every mother's son.

Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind permission!

Here's Summer, at your service, and she'd sing you on your ways

The marching songs of morning and the Road that fits the Vision,

The mellow songs of twilight and the gold September haze;

God rest you all, good gentlemen, and send you pleasant days.

* * * * *

Illustration: THE VOGUE FOR WEARING FANCY DRESS THREATENS TO INVADE

ORDINARY SOCIAL LIFE.

Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, July 8, 1914 · 第 24 / 62 题