A Garden Party in the Temple

On hospitable thoughts intent

To me the Inner Temple sent

An invitation,

A garden party‘ twas to be,

And I accepted readily

And with elation;

Good reason too, but oft the seeds

Of reason flower in senseless deeds.

I stood as savage as a bear,

For not a human being there

Knew I from Adam

I heard around in various tones,

“So glad to see you, Mr. Jones;”

“Good morning, Madam.”

It seemed so painfully absurd

To stand and never speak a word.

I brought my doom upon myself,

And there I was upon the shelf

In melancholy.

Why, say you, did I go at all?

I once met Chloris at a ball,

And in my folly

I went and suffered all this pain

In hopes to see her once again.

Of strawberries a pound at least

I ate, and made myself a beast

With tea and sherry;

And raspberries I ate and trembled,

Until I felt that I resembled

Myself a berry,

But‘ twas the berry that at school

We used to call a gooseberry fool.

The I. C. R. V. band droned on,

While guests had come and guests had gone

Since my arrival;

My brow grew gloomier with despair,

And on it sat the guilty air

Of a survival

Of some remorse for ancient crimes

Wrought in the pre-historic times.

My seventh cup of tea was done,

My seventh glass of wine begun,

Then of her coming

I was aware, nor shall forget

How she and that brown sherry set

My brains a-humming;

Well should I be rewarded soon

For all the weary afternoon.

Her eyes looked vaguely into mine

Without as much as half a sign

Of recognition.

My heart, my heart! the blow was sore,

But you have often been before

In this condition;

As said the bard of old, those eyes

Are not my only Paradise.