To Antwerp town I hasten'd post, I straightway called for ink and pen, I got the cash from grandmamma My heart is weary, my peace is gone, I have no cash, I lie in pawn, A stranger in the town of Lille. II. To stealing I can never come, How could I pawn it then at Lille? "La note," at times the guests will say. I turn as white as cold boil'd veal; I turn and look another way, I dare not ask the bill at Lille. I dare not to the landlord say, And is quite proud I stay at Lille. He thinks I am a Lord Anglais, The best of meat and drink in Lille. Yet when he looks me in the face And think did he but know my case, My heart is weary, my peace is gone, I have no money, I lie in pawn, III. The sun bursts out in furious blaze, I pass in sunshine burning hot I think how pleasant were a pot, What is yon house with walls so thick, All girt around with guard and grille? O gracious gods! it makes me sick, It is the prison-house of Lille! O cursed prison strong and barred, And quit that ugly part of Lille. The church-door beggar whines and prays, Ah, church-door beggar! go thy ways! My heart is weary, my peace is gone, I have no money, I lie in pawn, IV. Say, shall I to yon Flemish church, Ye virgins dressed in satin hoops, Ye martyrs slain for mortal weal, Look kindly down! before you stoops The miserablest man in Lille. And lo! as I beheld with awe A pictured saint (I swear 'tis real), 'Twas five o'clock, and I could eat, Although I could not pay my meal : I hasten back into the street Where lies my inn, the best in Lille. What see I on my table stand,— I feel a choking in my throat, I pant and stagger, faint and reel! It is it is a ten-pound note, And I'm no more in pawn at Lille! [He goes off by the diligence that evening, and is restored to the bosom of his happy family.] THE IDLER. With the London hubbub Burning of a cheeroot When I'd had a skinful, Heard them not in anger; Heard and rather fancied Their reverberations, As I sat entranced With my meditations. Easily I wandered To pull up His daisies, As I sat and pondered. |