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قراءة كتاب The Rubáiyát of a Bachelor
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 1
THE·RUBÁIYÁT
OF·A·BACHELOR
BY HELEN ROWLAND
DECORATIONS ···· BY ···· HAROLD ···· SPEAKMAN
DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
NEW YORK
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT 1915 BY
DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
TO
MY HUSBAND
WILLIAM HILL-BRERETON
THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
MY HUSBAND
WILLIAM HILL-BRERETON
THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
AKE! For the Spring has scattered into flight
The Vows of Lent, and bids the heart be light. Bring on the Roast, and take the Fish away! The Season calls—and Woman's eyes are bright! |
EFORE the phantom of Pale Winter died,
Methought the Voice of Spring within me cried, "When Hymen's rose-decked altars glow within, Why nods the laggard Bachelor outside?" |
ND, at the Signal, I who stood before
In idle musing, shouted, "Say no more! You know how little while we have to Love— And Love's light Hand is knocking at the door!" |
OW, the New Moon reviving old desires,
The gallant Youth to Sentiment aspires; And ere he saunters forth on conquest bent, Himself, like unto Solomon, attires. |
HIS WINTER GARMENTS HUNG—WHERE, NO ONE KNOWS!OW blithely through the smiling throng he goes,
His Winter garments hung— where, no one knows! A Symphony in radiant scarfs and hose, Wrought t'inspire a maiden's "Ah's!" and "Oh's!" |
NTO a new Flirtation, why not knowing,
Nor whence, his heart with madness overflowing; Then out of it—and thence, without a pause, Into another, willy-nilly blowing. |
HAT if the conscience feel, perchance, a sting?
No danger waits him—save the Wedding Ring. A Kiss is not the sin that yesterday It was—for that was Lent, and this is Spring! |
OME simple ones may sigh for wealth or fame,
And some, for the sweet Domestic Life, and tame; But ah! give me a supper, a cigar, A charming Woman—and the old Love-Game! |
OME blue points on the half-shell, in a row,
Some iced champagne, a melting bird—and Thou Beside me flirting, 'neath a picture hat— Oh, single life were Paradise enow! |
COZY-CORNER tête-ā-tête—what bliss!
A murmured word, a sigh, a stolen kiss— Ah, tell me, does the Promised Paradise Hold anything one-half so sweet as this? |
ND yet, since I am made of common clay, One charm I'd add to |