POETRY.
KATIE’S ANSWER. Och, Katie’s a rogue, it is true. But her eyes, like the sky, are so blue, An’ her dimples so swate, An’ her ancles so nate, She dazed, and she bothered me, too. Til one mornin’ we wint for a ride, Whin demure as a bride, by my side. The darlint, she sat, Wid the wickedest bat 'Neath a purty girl’s chin iver tied. An’ my heart, arrah thin how it hate ! For my Kate looked so temptin’ an’ swate, Wid cheeks like the roses, An’ all the red posies That grow in her garden so nate. But I sat just as mute as the dead. Till she seid, wid a toss of her head, “ It I’d known that to-day Ye’d have nothing to say, I’d have gone wid my cousin, instead.” Thin I felt myself grow very bowld, For I knew she’d not scold if I towld Uv the love in my heart That would niver depart. Though I lived to bo wrinkled and old. An’ I said : “If I dared to do so, I’d lit go uv the baste, an’ I’d throw Both arms round yer waist. An’ be stalin a taste Uv thim lipe that are coalin’ me so.” Thin she blushed a more illegant red. And she said, widout raisin’ her head, An’ her eyes lookin’ down Neath her lashes so brown, “ Would ye like me to dhrive, Misther Ted?” BETWEEN THE ACTS. Between the acts, when the music is sobbing, In sudden amusement and mute surprise, With cheeks that are paling and hearts that are throbbing, Old lovers look into each other’s eyes ; And calm breasts quiver and throb with sighs. When the curtain falls and the glasses rise. Between the acts there are cute flirtations With bright-eyed beauties and stylish beaux— Nice, but naughty, and full of temptations— Sighed over after the evening’s close ; O, much is done that’s regretted at dawn. When the curtain is down and the lights turned on. Between the acts there are sweet words spoken, And hope fulls dead with never a moan ; Old wounds are opened and hearts are broken In the hum, and ripple, and undertone, But the light turns dim, and the curtain is drawn, And the lesser play on the stage goes on.
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Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2174, 12 February 1881, Page 3
Word Count
381POETRY. Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2174, 12 February 1881, Page 3
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