As the Transatlantic tourists
Have been rowed on the Lagoon,
They have mourned its ancient glories,
They have watched the Germans spoon.

As they 've sailed these famous highways,
As they 've floated on these tides,
The arts that most impressed them
Were the artless German brides.

As they 've listened to the music
Of the poor Italian bands,
Heard the same old tunes repeated,
Seen the Germans holding hands, —

They have wondered why all Venice,
From San Marco to Lagoon,
Is now illumined only

As the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well,
Rings and lives and resounds in all the bounds of the bell:
So the thunder above spoke with a single tongue,
So in the heart of the mountain the sound of it rumbled and clung.

Sudden the thunder was drowned—quenched was the levin light—
And the angel-spirit of rain laughed out loud in the night.
Loud as the maddened river raves in the cloven glen,
Angel of rain! you laughed and leaped on the roofs of men;
And the sleepers sprang in their beds, and joyed and feared as you fell.

As the rain falls
so does
your love

bathe every
open
object of the world—
In houses
the priceless dry
rooms
of illicit love
where we live
hear the wash of the
rain—

There
paintings
and fine
metalware
woven stuffs—
all the whorishness
of our
delight
sees
from its window

the spring wash
of your love
the falling
rain—

The trees
are become
beasts fresh-risen

As the chameleon, who is known
To have no colours of his own;
But borrows from his neighbour's hue
His white or black, his green or blue;
And struts as much in ready light,
Which credit gives him upon sight
As if the rainbow were in tail
Settled on him, and his heirs male:
So the young Squire, when first he comes
From country school to Will's or Tom's;
And equally, in truth, is fit
To b a statesman, or a wit;
Without one notion of his own,
He saunters wildly up and down;
Till some acquaintance, good or bad,

As the cat
climbed over
the top of

the jamcloset
first the right
forefoot

carefully
then the hind
stepped down

into the pit of
the empty

As sure as we have a fatherland
We are heirs to it one with another,
By common right in an equal band
The rich and his needy brother.
Let each have his voice as we did of old
When a shield was the freeman's measure,
And not all be weighed like sacks of gold
By a merchant counting his treasure.

We fought for our homes together when
Our coast by the foeman was blighted.
It was not alone the gentlemen
Drew sword when the beacons were lighted.
Not only the gentlemen sank to earth
But also the faithful yeomen;

As supple as a tiger's skin
With wine hues and ochre blent,
It lies upon my polished floor —
Four square feet of the orient,
No more than that, yet space enough
On which to build a wonder-dream
Of that far town which, half asleep
And half a myth
Lies 'neath the crescent's golden gleam.

I see Bokhara's minarets
Like sentries o'er the housetops stand,
And far away the dropping sky
Melt in the desert's rippled sand.
Through silence born of noonday heat
And swooning radiance of the air,
I hear, from high muezzin tower

AS. SOONE. AS. WEE. TO. BEE. BEGVNNE:
WE. DID. BEGINNE. TO. BE. VNDONE.

As soon as I'm in bed at night
And snugly settled down,
The little girl I am by day
Goes very suddenly away,
And then I'm Mrs. Brown.

I have a family of six,
And all of them have names,
The girls are Joyce and Nancy Maud,
The boys are Marmaduke and Claude
And Percival and James.

We have a house with twenty rooms
A mile away from town;
I think it's good for girls and boys
To be allowed to make a noise —
And so does Mr. Brown.

We do the most exciting things,
Enough to make you creep;

To the Tune of " Packington's Pound "

As soon as I could I have called you together,
Though twice I've prorogued you, since first you came hither,
My council, 'tis true, who with France have been treating,
Were somewhat in pain, when they thought of your meeting.
But since it is known,
Our Commons have shown
A decent regard to French coin, and our own,
To take your advice I'm no longer afraid,
Concerning a peace which already is made.

The French, our allies, their concurrence express,