Punch: Punch (101.1891)

102

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 29, 1891.

To lend one's mind and fancy wholly
Unto the influence of the calmly jolly;
Forgetful, whilst the salt breeze
round one rustles;
all the clamorous Congresses of
Brussels,

all the spouting M.P.'s party
tussles,

all the noisy votaries of Carl
Marx ;

Of all save slumber and Unmitigated
Larks!

rv.

Dear are the memories of our wedded
lives,

Dear also are the outfits of our wives,
And their huge trunks: but this is

a sweet change !
For surely now our household hearths
are cold,

Charwomen prowl thereby: our halls

look strange,
Our suites are swathed like ghosts.

Here all is joy,
And, by the stirless silence rendered
bold,

The very gulls stand round with furled
wings. [boy ?

What do you think of it, Toby, my
The Session's Bills are half-forgotten
things.

Is there discussion in our little Isle ?
Let Parties broken so remain.
Factions are hard to reconcile :
Prate not of Law and Order—by the
main!

There is a fussiness worse than death
Trouble on trouble, pain on pain,
Lost labour, and sheer waste of breath,
Sore task to hearts dead beat by many
.wars,

And ears grown dumb with listening
to loud party jars.

v.

But propt on sand and pebbles rolly-
polly [us lowly)

How sweet (while briny breezes fan

/!/ & M'/'fj ~TSi^P'll te?^^CT^^^^^^^r -MmF&EpWP- I Tow sweet while briny breezes

P J'''^f^=±^ ' ' ^^©^^^^fflCrl^^^^S^^^JBF JFP With half-dropt eyelids still,

0 Isytt vflf^it^^lvt /ife«=j=fr^yj#^ Beneath a boat-side tarry, coallv,

'«^///.356^*«^__37i^^ To watoh the loug whlte breakers

m '•' ^ drawing slowly [spill—

FFEREMCE OF OPINION. JP,to }he T^^l^t}^

ioheariar-ofi the wheezy lown-Lrier
Jones (reading aloud). "'A true, good, noble Woman is ever READY to make herself a calling,
Door-mat for the Man she loves!'. . . . Ah, Dolly, those are the Women who make the "Oh, yes. Oh, yes!" Truly, Tobias
best Wives ! " Mrs. J. (who is not uf this type). "Yes, dear—and the worst Husbaxds ! " mine,

--•-——- This solitude d deux is most divine ;

. .„„..„________„ While all things else have rest from weari- j A Congress we—of Two; where no outfalling

MR. PUNCH'S ANTI-LABOUR CONGRESS. ness5 Is possible. Our Anti-Labour line

Mr. Punch (in a Marine Lotos-Land) sings his All things have rest • why should we toil alone Is woi^lessly prolonged, stretched out beside
Sea-side Version of the Laureate's lovely , We only toil, who are such clever things . the brine.

CJtoric Sona " make perpetual moan, yl-

Still from one " Question" to another thrown? guch Lotos-eating all at times must seek!
Gulls, even, fold their wings, Xhe Lotos blows by many an English creek.

And cease their wanderings, | Punch is no " mild-eyed melancholy " coon,

Wratching our brows which slumber's holy
baLm

Bathes gently, whilst the inner spirit sings
There is no joy but calm ! ""

There is a slumber here that softlier falls
Than forty-winks where dull, dull Bills they

pass ;

Oft have I drowsed within those dreary walls,
AVhere brays the pertinacious party ass.
Here sleep more gently on the spirit lies
Than where the Speaker tells the Noes and
Ayes.

The wave-wash brings sweet sloep down from

the summer skies,
Here laps the azure deep,

Born, like the Laureate's islanders, to moon
In lands in which 'tis always afternoon.
No, Toby, no ! Yet stretch your tawny muzzle
Upon these tawny sands ! We will not puzzle,

Why should Punch only toil, the top and yor a few happy hours, our weary pates

crown of things ?

m.

Flow sweet it were, dodging the urban stream,
With half-shut eyes ever to seem

With Burning Questions or with Dull
Debates. [Motions, we.

We have had enough of Measures, and of
"Ayes" to starboard, "Noes" to larboard

(in the language of the sea),
Where the wallowing Seymour spouted like

And through the weed the small crabs creep, j Faiw asieep in a half dream !

And sale from prigs who plague and nymphs Tq ^.e&m an(J that you(ier glittering j a whale, and Cobb made free.

who peep _ light [height; Let us take our solemn davy, Toby, for a space

Sagacious Punch reclines and woos benignant No mor° shall top tne tall Clock Tower's {Punch perceives complete approval in that

rieeP" To hear no more the party speech; I doggish face)— [mind !—

EC. i Eating the Lotos day by day, ! Let us take our davy, Toby—for a tune now

Why are we weighed upon with Politics, I To watch the crisping ripples on the beach ; | In this briny Lotos Land to live and lie reclined,
And, utterly fatigued by "bores" and (No, no, not Hicks! Thank heaven, he's far j On the sands like chums together, careless of

"sticks," i away!) I mankind! [Sleeps.