·
3 мин
Слушать

Melancholetta

TH saddest music all day

She soothed her secret sorrow:

At night she sighed "I fear 'twas

Such cheerful words to borrow.

Dearest, a sweeter, sadder songI'll sing to thee to-morrow." I thanked her, but I could not

That I was glad to hear it:

I left the house at break of day,

And did not venture near

Till time,

I hoped, had worn

Her grief, for nought could cheer it!

My dismal sister!

Couldst thou

The wretched home thou keepest!

Thy brother, drowned in daily woe,

Is thankful when thou sleepest;

For if I laugh, however low,

When thou'rt awake, thou weepest!

I took my sister t'other day(Excuse the slang expression)To Sadler's Wells to see the

In hopes the new

Might in her thoughts, from grave to

Effect some slight digression.

I asked three gay young dogs from

To join us in our folly,

Whose mirth,

I thought, might serve to

My sister's melancholy:

The lively Jones, the sportive Brown,

And Robinson the jolly.

The maid announced the meal in

That I myself had taught her,

Meant to allay my sister's

Like oil on troubled water:

I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones,

And begged him to escort her.

Vainly he strove, with ready wit,

To joke about the weather -To ventilate the last 'ON

IT' -To quote the price of leather -She groaned "Here I and Sorrow sit:

Let us lament together!" I urged "You're wasting time, you know:

Delay will spoil the venison.""My heart is wasted with my woe!

There is no rest - in Venice,

The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted

From Byron and from Tennyson.

I need not tell of soup and

In solemn silence swallowed,

The sobs that ushered in each dish,

And its departure followed,

Nor yet my suicidal

To BE the cheese I hollowed.

Some desperate attempts were

To start a conversation;"Madam," the sportive Brown essayed,"Which kind of recreation,

Hunting or fishing, have you

Your special occupation?" Her lips curved downwards instantly,

As if of india-rubber."Hounds IN

LL

RY I like," said she:(Oh how I longed to snub her!)"Of fish, a whale's the one for me,

IT IS SO

LL OF

ER!" The night's performance was "King John.""It's dull," she wept, "and so-so!"Awhile I let her tears flow on,

She said they soothed her woe so!

At length the curtain rose upon'Bombastes Furioso.' In vain we roared; in vain we

To rouse her into laughter:

Her pensive glances wandered

From orchestra to rafter

ER

ON

ER!" she said, and sighed;

And silence followed after.

0
0
66
Подарок

Lewis Carroll

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (/ˈlʌtwɪdʒ ˈdɒdʒsən/; 27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898), better known by his pen name Lewis Carroll, was an English wr…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.