W.
_Hamilton Literary Monthly_.
~A Fickle Heart.~
A fickle heart! Let subtler poets sing
Of changeless love and all that kind of thing,
Of hearts in which a passion never dies--
_My_ heart's as fickle as the summer skies
Across whose face the changing cloud-forms wing.
Unfailing loves unfailing troubles bring.
I love to touch on Cupid's harp each string,
Though each unto my questioning touch replies
A fickle heart.
So, 'twixt some thirty loves I'm wavering,
To each the same unstable vows I fling,
Reading the first glad gleam of love's surprise
In thirty pair of brown and azure eyes,
Finding in all the same thought answering;
A fickle heart.
GUY WETMORE CARRYL.
_Columbia Spectator._
~My Lady goes to the Play.~
With the link-boys running on before
To light her on her way,
A-lounging in her sedan goes
Belinda to the play.
In patch and powder, puff and frill,
From satin shoe to hair,
Of all the maids in London town
I wot there's none so fair!
From Mayfair down along the Strand
To Covent Garden's light,
Where Master David Garrick acts
In a new role to-night,
The swinging sedan takes its way,
And with expectant air
Belinda fans, and wonders who
To-night there will be there.
Sir Charles, perhaps, or, happy thought,
Flushing thro' her powder,
He might come in--beneath her stays
She feels her heart beat louder.
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