THE PILGRIMS OF PALL MALL

My little Friend, so small and neat,

Whom years ago I used to meet

In Pall Mall daily;

How cheerily you tripp’ d away

To work, it might have been to play,

You tripp’ d so gaily.

And Time trips too.— This moral means,

You then were midway in the teens

That I was crowning:

We never spoke, but when I smil’ d

At morn or eve, I know, dear child,

You were not frowning.

Each morning when we met, I think,

Some sentiment did us two link —

Nor joy, nor sorrow:

And then at eve, experience-taught,

Our hearts fell back upon the thought,—

We meet to-morrow!

And you were poor; and how? and why?

How kind to come! it was for my

Especial grace meant!

Had you a parlour next the stars,

A bird, some treasur’ d plants in jars,

About your casement?

You must have dwelt au cinquième,

Like little darling What’ s-her-name,—

Eugène Sue’ s glory:

Perchance, unwittingly, I’ ve heard

Your thrilling-toned Canary-bird

From that fifth storey.

I’ ve seen some changes since we met;

A patient little seamstress yet,

With small means striving,

Have you a Lilliputian spouse?

And do you dwell in some doll’ s house?

— Is baby thriving?

Can bloom like thine — my heart grows chill —

Have sought that bourne unwelcome still

To bosom smarting?

The most forlorn — what worms we are!—

Would wish to finish this cigar

Before departing.

I sometimes to Pall Mall repair,

And see the damsels passing there;

But though I try to

Obtain one glance, they look discreet,

As though they’ d someone else to meet,—

As have not I too?

Yet still I often muse upon

Our many meetings — come and gone!

July — December!

Now let us make a tryste, and when,

Dear little soul, we meet again,

In some serener sphere, why then —

Thy Friend remember!