The Conservative (Lovecraft)/July 1923/Song XVIII cent.

by Susan Lilian McMullen

Song XVIII cent.
By Lilian Middleton

Because you are so calm,
M’ dear!
Because you are so calm,
Unto your sweet Madonna-face
I fain would sing a psalm!
But ’faith, before such saintly grace
I shrink, a witless, hopeless case,
Because you are so calm!—

The harpischord you play,
M’ dear!
The harpischord you play,
A-straying go your fingers ten,
Your gaze is far-away!
Ah! would I had an artist's pen
To paint that lovely picture when
The harpischord you play!

In church I sit in awe,
M’ dear!
In church I sit in awe,
My restless limbs a-twitching make
And I would laugh haw-haw!
’Tis thus your saintly glances shake
My wits, as when a-twitch, a-quake
In church I sit in awe!

I seek to rouse your mirth,
M’ dear!
I seek to rouse your mirth,
Repeat the scandal of the town,
The latest death, or birth!
So ho! you neither smile nor frown,
But mildly look me up and down,
When I would rouse your mirth!

Altho’ I love your poise,
M’ dear!
Altho’ I love your poise,
You deem I have but slender wit,
My jocund face annoys,
I’ll tarry here no more with it
Where St. Cecelai-like you sit
Altho’ I love your poise!