A Sketch In Seven Dials

Mary in her hand has sixpence, Mary starts to fetch some butter, Mary's pinafore is spotless, Off she goes across the gutter, Gleeful, radiant, as she thus did, Proud to be so largely trusted.

One, two, three, small steps she's taken, Blissfully away she's tripping, When good lack, and who'd a thought it, Down goes Mary, slipping, slipping; Daubs her clothes, the little slut--her Sixpence, too, rolls in the gutter.

Never creep back so despairing, Dry those eyes, my little Mary, All of us start off in high glee, Many come back quite "contrairy"-- I've mourn'd sixpences in scores too, Damag'd hopes and pinafores too.

MISS EDITH AN EXTRAVAGANZA

Miss Edith lifts the latch with care, And now she must brave the chill night air. She has violet eyes and ruby lips, A dancing shape--and away she skips; She hies to the haunt of a hermit weird, With flaming eyes and a forky beard, A shocking wizard--who, gossips say, Has dwelt in his cavern a year to-day.

"O, ancient man! I am filled with fear, My lover has left me full a year. 'I swear to return in a year,' said he, 'Or question the man of mystery. Your eyes are blue, and your lips are red; I swear, my love, to come back,' he said. O, fearsome man! I pray of you, Can he prove so false whom I think so true?"

"O, daughter fair! I am sad to say That young men now and then betray: Thy lover, I wis, has thy trust betray'd, For he presently woos a witching maid: Her eyes are blue, and, I tell thee this, She has tempting lips that he fain would kiss; But courage, my child, thou mayst yet discover A clue to the heart of this worthless lover."

He mutter'd, when thus he the maid had cheer'd, A strange sound that was drown'd in the forky beard; Then all around loud thunders broke, And the cave was wrapp'd in fire and smoke, And that fearsome man has disappear'd With his flaming eyes and his forky beard; And Edith weeps in rapture sweet To find her lover at her feet!