HECTOR'S CONFESSION.

Observer, Volume 7, Issue 346, 25 July 1885, Page 16

HECTOR'S CONFESSION.

Though, my Helen, my lips with moustache dense is laden, . And every feature proclaims me a man, In the fine art of pleading I vow I'm a " maiden " So pardon each, error as only you can. You know it has ever been wild-lover fashion To pour forth one's feelings in ludicrous rhyme "So list', Curly, list' while I whisper my passion And pardon the metre and pardon the time. I first thought this fullness of bosom Benzonian, And strove might and main to dislodge thee from there ; 'Twas well, dear, I found that your strength was Samsonian — The might of maids seven in every hair. And though you are cropped now, 'twould cost me a tussle To break from my darling— Oh, dread "Bridge of Siffhs ;" . Tbo' Fashion should work the collapse of your bustle You'd still hold me fast with your killing blue eyes. My prospects seem gloomy, with Nature my tutor And nought to rely on but labour's scant gains • But, reinornber, your presence shall brighten the Future, And Love's flame wax greater when Genius* blaze. • wanes. • So^^' li ?. g ' consenfc P ra y that we two together Shall climb hand in hand Lite's precipitous hill And-smiling-throughout the whole way en each other Lot Dame Fortune smile on whoever she will