I know a Manor by the Thames;I've seen it oft through beechen stemsIn leafy Summer weather;We've moored the punt its lawns besideWhere peacocks strut in flaunting pride,The Muse and I together.
There I have seen the shadows growGigantic, as the sun sinks low,Leaving forlorn the dial;When zephyrs in the borders stir,Distilling stock and lavenderTo fill some fairy's phial.
There, when the dusk joins hands with night(I like to think the story's right—I had it from the Rector—Still, don't believe unless you choose!)Doth walk, between the shapen yews,A little pretty spectre,
The Lady Rose, a well-born maidWhose true-love in this garden glade—A bold, if faithless, follow—Had loved, but left her for the sakeOf venturing with Frankie Drake,And died at Puerto Bello;
While she—poor foolish loving Rose—Of heart-break, so the story goes,Died very shortly after,One day—as Art requires—when SpringHad set the hawthorns blossomingAnd waked the lanes to laughter.
And so adown these alleys dim,Where oft she'd kept a tryst with him,She nightly comes a-roaming;And, sorrowing still, yet finds content,I fancy, where "Sweet Themmes" is blentWith flower-beds and the gloaming
Ah me, the leaf is down to-day;Does still the little phantom stray,Poor pretty ghost, a-shiver,When sad flowers droop their weary headsAlong the chill Autummal bedsBeside the misty river?
Or does it, at the year's decline—As sensible as Proserpine—When Autumn skies do harden,Go down and coax the seeds to growTill daffodillies stand a-rowAnd April's in the garden?
I cannot tell; what's more, I doubtWe've other things to think aboutThis sorrowful November;I only know for such sad hoursThat dainty ghosts and Summer flowersAre pleasant to remember.
The Absolute Limit.
The directors of the Bradford Club have reviewed the position in regard to the free admission of soldiers to the ground, the number of men thus admitted having been far greater than was anticipated. It has now been decided that men in uniform or bearing other credentials of service shall be admitted to section E on payment of the nominal sum of 3d. This will prevent the jostling of the ordinary patrons."—Bradford Daily Telegraph.
A cruiser here and there may be sunk, a regiment here and there may be cut up, but thank God our Bradford football patrons will never again be jostled by any of these vulgar soldiers in uniform.
Notice in a Battersea window:—
"Bride Cakes
any size
to suit all pockets.
In these days of narrow skirts most women will find the guinea size sufficient.
