| |
| TO the shy, sweet face that I saw this morning, | |
| I toss this kiss from my window-sill. | |
| And mayhap my partner will give me warning | |
| If I shove not quicker my grey goose-quill. | |
| I’ve twenty folios yet to fill. | 5 |
| So it’s Blue Eyes, Down! till this deed is drawn; | |
| For Maiden Lane’s not a lover’s lawn, | |
| And the rattle of Broadway never is still. | |
| |
| From seal and parchment and dust-covered papers, | |
| My thoughts fly back to her—willy nil. | 10 |
| I lunch at Cable’s on lamb and capers, | |
| And a secret bumper I drain with Phil, | |
| And I smile when he leaves me to pay the bill. | |
| Oh, it’s Blue Eyes, Down! till this deed is drawn; | |
| For Maiden Lane’s not a lover’s lawn, | 15 |
| And the rattle of Broadway never is still. | |
| |
| My office is no conservatory; | |
| Its walls are like blanks for a clerk to fill; | |
| But that mignonette, jasmine, and morning-glory | |
| The charms of a whole hothouse would kill | 20 |
| In the white vase there, on the window-sill. | |
| But it’s Blue Eyes, Down! till this deed is drawn; | |
| For Maiden Lane’s not a lover’s lawn, | |
| And the rattle of Broadway never is still. | |
| |
ENVOY Barristers! with brief-bags to fill | 25 |
| It’s Blue Eyes, Down! till the deeds are drawn, | |
| For Maiden Lane’s not a lover’s lawn, | |
| And the rattle of Broadway never is still. | |
| |
