OVER THE WAY. "I sat over against a window where there stood a pot with very pretty flowers; and I had my eyes fixed on it, when on a sudden the window opened, and a young lady appeared whose beauty struck me.". ARABIAN NIGHTS. ALAS! the flames of an unhappy lover Oh! why are eyes of hazel? noses Grecian? I've lost my rest by night, my peace by day, For want of some brown Holland or Venetian. Over the way. I've gazed too often, till my heart's as lost I cannot read or write, or thoughts relax— Over the way! Even on Sunday my devotions vary, And from St. Bennet Fink they go astray Over the way! Oh! if my godmother were but a fairy, I envy every thing that 's near Miss Lindo, Blest blue-bottles! that buzz about the window Even at even, for there be no shutters, And then oh! then while the clear waxen taper Emits, two stories high, a starlike ray, I see twelve auburn curls put into paper But how breathe unto her my deep regards, Or offer her my hand, some thirty yards Over the way? Cold as the pole she is to my adoring; Over the way ! Each dirty little Savoyard that dances She looks on Punch or chimney-sweeps in May; - Zounds! wherefore cannot I attract her glances Over the way? Half out she leans to watch a tumbling brat, Or yelping cur, run over by a dray; she never pities that! I go to the same church a love-lost labour; Haunt all her walks, and dodge her at the play; She does not seem to know she has a neighbour Over the way ! At private theatres she never acts; No Crown-and-Anchor balls her fancy sway; Over the way! To billets-doux by post she shows no favour To break my window-pains to my enslaver I play the flute, she heeds not my chromatics, I wish a fire would break out in the attics Over the way! My wasted form ought of itself to touch her; And as for butcher's meat-oh! she's my butcher Over the way! At beef I turn; at lamb or veal I pout; I'm Over the way! my without regret weary of life; I could resign this miserable clay To lie within that box of mignonette Over the way! I've fitted bullets to my pistol-bore; I've vowed at times to rush where trumpets bray, Quite sick of number one and number four y! Over the way Sometimes my fancy builds up castles airy. Sometimes I dream of her in bridal white, I've cooed with her in dreams, like any turtle, I've snatched her from the Clyde, the Tweed, and Tay; Thrice I have made a grove of that one myrtle Over the way! Thrice I have rowed her in a fairy shallop, Thrice raced to Gretna in a neat "po-shay," And showered crowns to make the horses gallop Over the way! And thrice I've started up from dreams appalling Of killing rivals in a bloody fray There is a young man very fond of calling Over the way! Oh! happy man above all kings in glory, And add a tale of love to that one story Over the way! Nabob of Arcot Sultan of Persia Despot of Japan - Emperor of Cathay Much rather would I be the happy man Over the way! |