No more questions, good friend, no more questions, I práy; I'd be choóser myself what to say or not say; With your 'Whó?' 'Which?' and 'Whát?' 'How?' 'When?' 'Wherefore?' and 'Why?' You but shut my heart clóser, my tongue tighter tié; So deal with me fairly and give quid pro quo And your own thoughts first tell me, if my thoughts you'd knów. DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY; March 30, 1855. TIS the little boy láshing his tóp in the coúrt; I'll go down to the court and the whole livelong day "I don't knów, heard never reason," "Nów I récolléct," said Hórace Walking from ZELL to SIMMERN, RHENISH PRUSSIA; July 9, 1855. 'TWAS on the First of Jánuary early in the morning I paid my Love a vísit, and a happy new year wished her; She gave me her right hand and said she was glad to see me Ah! little thought I thén, she was entering on her last year. "Twas on the First of Fébruary, a cold and snowy morning, I paid my Love a visit and asked her was she quite well: — "I've got a little cough," said she, "but I don't think anything of it; Coughs and colds are going, and I hope I 'll soon be better." 'Twas on the First of Márch and a bitter wind was blówing; I paid my Love a visit, and asked her was she bétter: "I'm not much better yét," said she, "and the cough is sticking to me, But when the weather softens I don't doubt I'll be better." "Twas on the First of April when a blink of sun was gleaming Between two chilly showers, I paid my Love a visit; When she saw me her eye brightened and she said she 'd soon be finely, But I thought she didn't look well and I had a sad forebóding. 'Twas ón delicious Máy-day I paid my Love a visit; The sky was clear, the air was soft, the birds were gaily singing, But my Love her pallid cheek upon her hand was leaning, And I didn't ask her hów she was, for I saw it but too clearly. 'Twas on the First of leáfy June I paid my Love a vísit; When she saw me from the window she waved her hand to greét me, And I entered the house joyful, thinking she was surely better, But when I came in neár her I saw how she was wasting. On the First of warm July I paid my Love a visit; For the fever fit was ón her, and insidious Hectic búsy Upon the First of Aúgust I paid my Love a vísit; Upón September First I paid my Love a vísit; She raised her head upon the pillow and looked out on the "How pleasant it 's out there," said she, "and yet I'm still And perhaps" growing weaker, but there she stopped short, for she heard me sóbbing. Upón October First I paid my Love a vísit; Her cheeks were sunk and pále, with a red spot in the middle:"Ah!" said she, "the winter 's neár, for the leaves are falling, fálling But you'll think of me in spring when you hear the black bird whistle." Upón November First I paid my Love a vísit; It was a lowering morning and the rain was drizzling dreáry: "It will be brighter by and bý," said I, between my fingers Her emáciated wrist taking "Yes, yes," said she, "in heaven." Upón December First when I paid my Love a visit I met, 'twas for the first time, no stretched-out hand, no greéting, For she lay there in her shroúd wrapt, more lovely fair than éver, And if never more to love me, pain to suffer néver. Upón this First of Jánuary, désolate and lonely I sit here, in the churchyard, watching by my Love's grave; And if I weep, it's not for hér, for shé 's safe from all sórrow, But for myself behind her left so désolate and lonely. DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 14, 1855. |