An Appeal

Oh! is there not one maiden breast Which does not feel the moral beauty Of making worldly interest Subordinate to sense of duty? Who would not give up willingly All matrimonial ambition To rescue such a one as I From his unfortunate position?

Oh, is there not one maiden here, Whose homely face and bad complexion Have caused all hopes to disappear Of ever winning man's affection? To such a one, if such there be, I swear by heaven's arch above you, If you will cast your eyes on me,--- However plain you be--I'll love you!

THE PANTOMIME "SUPER" TO HIS MASK

Vast, empty shell! Impertinent, preposterous abortion: With vacant stare, And ragged hair, And every feature out of all proportion! Embodiment of echoing inanity, Excellent type of simpering insanity, Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity, I ring thy knell!

To-night thou diest, Beast that destroy'st my heaven-born identity! Twelve weeks of nights Before the lights, Swamped in thine own preposterous nonentity, I've been ill-treated, cursed, and thrashed diurnally, Credited for the smile you wear externally-- I feel disposed to smash thy face, infernally, As there thou liest!

I've been thy brain: I've been the brain that lit thy dull concavity! The human race Invest my face With thine expression of unchecked depravity: Invested with a ghastly reciprocity, I've been responsible for thy monstrosity, I, for thy wanton, blundering ferocity-- But not again!

'Tis time to toll Thy knell, and that of follies pantomimical: A twelve weeks' run, And thou hast done All thou canst do to make thyself inimical. Adieu, embodiment of all inanity! Excellent type of simpering insanity! Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity! Freed is thy soul!

(The Mask respondeth.)

Oh! master mine, Look thou within thee, ere again ill-using me. Art thou aware Of nothing there Which might abuse thee, as thou art abusing me? A brain that mourns thine unredeemed rascality? A soul that weeps at thy threadbare morality? Both grieving that their individuality Is merged in thine?