Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SILHOUETTE, by JAMES RYDER RANDALL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SILHOUETTE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ladies and gallants, well a day!
Last Line: In midmost love—in midmost may!
Subject(s): Love; Man-woman Relationships; May (month); Male-female Relations


LADIES and gallants, well a day!
If ride ye must, and will not stay,
Ah, do not ride in midmost May!

Lassie! be sure to take your brother;
Laddie! go not without grandmother;
Lassie and laddie, take no other!

For I have been the dupe of blisses—
My malison on blonden Misses,
With cherry mouths lip-full with kisses;

And jaunty hats with ribboned bows,
And beaded basques and—heaven knows
What gilded pitfalls full of woes!

Dear little bread-and-butter chit,
You jilted me I must admit—
And split my heart—the deuce a bit!

I swore the jewel of Giamschid
Than you less excellency hid;
You thought so too—you know you did.

And yet you made a famous fool
Of one a lastrum since from school;
I'm on the penitential stool.

With groan and grimace acrimonious,
I vote all flirting most erroneous,
And bivouac with Saint Antonius,

I'll make the calaboose my bunk,
I'll delve in some monastic trunk;
'Twere highly proper to get drunk!

I'll sing Am Rhein in the Casino—
Become obstreperous with Blineau;
In divers ways I'll breeze my spleen, oh!

Lycanthropy to me is placid;
I'll out-strut e'en Haroun Alraschid—
Read Werter, too, for prussic acid.

All womankind shall learn to rue it;
I'll drench my locks with mutton suet,
And guard the corners—young men do it!

Upon reflection, I will not
Become an interesting sot,
And sprout a nasal apricot!

Philosophy shall be obeyed;
I'll puff my meerschaum in the shade,
And live to see you an old maid!

A starch old maid with snuff and chat,
With crimpéd curls and—think of that—
A fusty parrot and—a cat!

I have your tiny gloves hard by;
You gave them to me with a sigh—
They're torn and faded—so am I.

I banquet on them with my looks,
I haunt the meadow—tangled brooks,
And sift dried jasmines from my books.

And brooding o'er them, wrath is felled;
I only see the hands that held,
Becking me ever back to Eld!

Yes—yes! I do forgive the Past;
And though your stars be overcast,
I'll deem you loveliest to the last.

But I shall ride no more away,
In kingly cavalier array,
In midmost love—in midmost May!





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