By The Window!!

O! my Charley, you remember, on that cold fifth of

November,

As we saunter'd slowly Eastward, with the weed between

our lips;

How we spied a damsel beauteous, lymphomatically

duteous,

(I.E. cook at Number 7, scrubbing of the kitchen steps).

Charley, you and I remember, on that bright fifth of

November,

How she knelt there like a statue,--knelt bare-armëd

in the breeze,--

Whist her saponaceous lavement catalambanized the

pavement,

And her virginal white vesture flutter'd, reef d-wise, to

the knees.

Spell-bound in the road behind her, paused the Hurdy--

Gurdy Grinder,

Strangling in his wild excitement, Jumping Jimmy the

baboon;

Whilst the Genius of the Organ, fascinated by her

Gorgon

Beauty, stood enraptured--captured--playing madly out

of tune.

Then with her blue eyes entrancing, and her taper ankle

glancing,

And her rounded arms akimbo resting on her dainty

waist;

She half turn'd,--and turning threw me one glance

"utterly to undo me"--

(Well, you know'twas me she look'd at, Charley, and

she show'd her taste! )

Evermore my soul beguiling, in arch silence she kept

smiling--

And my heart within my bosom, pretematurally hopp'd;

Still as near I drew, and nearer, she grew fair and yet

more fairer (!)--

On both knees upon the pavement (Miles's bags, my

Boy) I dropp'd.

Then--but why should I confide you, what you know as

well as I do?

How she look'd up like an angel, (I can see her figure still!)

"I am yours, sir, if you'll take me--if you'll marry me

and make me

"A fine Lady, like my Missis:"--how I cried, "By

Jove, I WILL!"

How thenceforward ev'ry morning, wet and wind and

weather scorning,

By the steps of Number 7, punctual as the clock I past,--

How my love grew daily stronger--strength'ning as the

days grew longer--

Till my Marianne consented, and we named the day at

last.

How my Queen of Cake and Curry volunteer'd a

muffin-worry,

How I fondly made my advent somewhat ere the

moment due,--

And on going to the cupboard, like a second Mother

Hubbard,

Found the same, not "bare," but fill'd with six feet one

of Horse Guards Blue.

"Monster!'tis my only brother!"--"Silence, Madam--

you're another:

"Come out of your cupboard, Lobster! come out, gallant

Corporal Brown,--

"Slave! (I said) base Kitchen-creeper! (said I) I will

stop your peeper!

"I will tap your claret, Lobster,--I'll--"

--but here he knock'd me down.

How, still chain'd by Love the Fetterer, spite of cupboard

and etcetera,

To Cremome one night I took her, in a "Pork Pie"

highly killing;

Purvey'd buns and ices satis, and a sherry-cobbler

--gratis!

(Tho' you know I do not, Charley, love to sep'rate from

a shilling)--

How, when ev'rything was paid for; fun and fireworks

only stay'd for;

And my belle amie had eaten ev'rything that she was able;

Whilst the Resonant Steam-Dragon* (that's the tea--

pot), and the flagon

Of Lymphatic Cow (that's milk), stood smiling on the

arbor table,--

"Might she just step out and find her parasol she'd left

behind her?

"Whilst I kindly pour'd the tea out, and the cream that

look'd so yellow?"--

* "She has halls and she has castles, and the resonant Steam-Eagles Follow far on the direction of her little dove-like hand." Lady Geraldine's Courtship.

Yellow? Ha, ha! who could think it!--She never came

back to drink it:--

I fell flooded in a Brown. * ( study, understood, Old Fellow).

How my love withstood this trial, (toughish there is no

denial)

Soul-subdued by her low pleading, satin-tongued, soap--

soft as silk,--

Not a saint his heart could harden, thus so sweetly

ask'd for pardon:--

I suck'd in the obvious crammer kindly as my mother's

milk.

Soh! (I said)--and then forgave her: and she promised

to behave her--

Self in future like an angel (which she did, and show'd

her wings)

And I fancied yestermorning (fool) that my reward was

dawning,--

So it was--and with a vengeance! (fool again) But

some one rings?--

* . . . "I fell flooded in a dark."-- Lady Geraldine's Courtship.

'Twas a cruel thing--but funny?--her eloping ere her

Honey--

Moon'd scarce risen?--cutting, very,--and for me the

world is dead.

Slightly crushing to my hopes is this performance on the

ropes! Miss

Marianne suspensa scalis--(would t'were sus. per col.

instead!)

Ass that I was to be wedded!--Wonderfully wooden--

headed!

I'm a wiser man now, Charley,--certes, up to snuff--but

sadder,--

Oh, the fickle little Hindoo! Facilis descensus window!

Oh--that bell again! what's this?---- A Bill