Poems (Nealds)/Written in my Nephew's Souvenir
Appearance
WRITTEN IN MY NEPHEW'S SOUVENIR.
Dear John I'd willingly comply
With any wish of thine;
But really 'tis in vain I try
In poetry to shine.
With any wish of thine;
But really 'tis in vain I try
In poetry to shine.
The muse of late has been unkind,
And wont vouchsafe a smile;
Therefore I had made up my mind
To leave her for a while.
And wont vouchsafe a smile;
Therefore I had made up my mind
To leave her for a while.
But on your strong solicitation,
That in your book Id write,
I'll send a pressing invitation
For her to come to night.
That in your book Id write,
I'll send a pressing invitation
For her to come to night.
Indeed I think she'll not refuse
So old a friend as me,
And if to dine she does not choose,
Perhaps she'll come to tea.
So old a friend as me,
And if to dine she does not choose,
Perhaps she'll come to tea.
And I will beg her to rehearse
For me some bright idea,
On which I'll try to form a verse
For dear John's Souvenir.
For me some bright idea,
On which I'll try to form a verse
For dear John's Souvenir.
After writing the above in the Souvenir, I placed it in the hands of my niece for her perusal, when she exclaimed, "Aunt, you have missed a leaf," and to my utter dismay I found two leaves had adhered together from the dampness of the binding. I, therefore, strove to repair the error by inserting in the omitted pages the following lines.
Sure nothing ever yet was so provoking;
I've miss'd a leaf you say! you cannot mean it!
Nay, do not laugh; I think it's past all joking!
Pray take the book—I wish I'd never seen it.
I've miss'd a leaf you say! you cannot mean it!
Nay, do not laugh; I think it's past all joking!
Pray take the book—I wish I'd never seen it.
I'm sure some mischief-loving sprite
The leaves had been cementing,
And now is laughing with delight,
To hear me thus lamenting.
The leaves had been cementing,
And now is laughing with delight,
To hear me thus lamenting.
I know not how I can repair
This sad, this dire mistake,
If I had Russell's[1] pencil fair,
Some pretty sketch I'd make.
This sad, this dire mistake,
If I had Russell's[1] pencil fair,
Some pretty sketch I'd make.
But that, alas! is not the case,
And I'm compell'd to fill
This terribly vexatious space
With nonsense 'gainst my will.
And I'm compell'd to fill
This terribly vexatious space
With nonsense 'gainst my will.
- ↑ A promising young artist resident at Guildford in Surrey, whose beautiful sketches we had seen a few days previously.