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Point Lace and Diamonds By: George Augustus Baker (1849-1906) |
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POINT LACE
AND
DIAMONDS BY
GEORGE A. BAKER, JR.
AUTHOR OF
"The Bad Habits of Good Society," "West Point," etc. NEW AND REVISED EDITION
WITH NUMEROUS NEW POEMS [Illustration] NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
MDCCCXCIII
Copyrighted in 1875, by F.B. Patterson. Copyright, 1886,
By White, Stokes, & Allen.
CONTENTS.
PAGE Retrospection 1
A Rosebud in Lent 4
A Reformer 5
In the Record Room, Surrogate's Office 6
De Lunatico 8
Pro Patria et Gloria 11
After the German 15
An Idyl of the Period 17
Chivalrie 22
A Piece of Advice 24
Zwei Könige auf Orkadal 27
A Song 28
Making New Year's Calls 30
Jack and Me 34
Les Enfants Perdus 37
Chinese Lanterns 40
Thoughts on the Commandments 43
Marriage à la Mode . A Trilogy 45
The "Stay at Home's" Plaint 58
The "Stay at Home's" Pæan 62
Eight Hours 65
Sleeping Beauty 68
Easter Morning 71
A Legend of St. Valentine 75
Frost Bitten 79
A Song 81
Old Photographs 83
" Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné " 85
Christmas Greens 88
Lake Mahopac Saturday Night 91
Matinal Musings 95
A Romance of the Sawdust 99
Pyrotechnic Polyglot 105
Fishing 108
Nocturne 111
Auto da Fé 113
An Afterthought 117
Reductio ad Absurdum 120
The Mothers of the Sirens 122
Per Aspera ad Astra 124
The Language of Love 126 Transcriber's Note: Possible typos and irregularities in
indentation and word usage have been left as found in the
original. There are places where punctuation may not have
been correctly picked up by the scanning software; please
consult another source if you require complete accuracy.
RETROSPECTION.
I'd wandered, for a week or more,
Through hills, and dells, and doleful green'ry,
Lodging at any carnal door,
Sustaining life on pork, and scenery.
A weary scribe, I'd just let slip
My collar, for a short vacation,
And started on a walking trip,
That cheapest form of dissipation And vilest, Oh! confess my pen,
That I, prosaic, rather hate your
"Ode to a Sky lark" sort of men;
I really am not fond of Nature.
Mad longing for a decent meal
And decent clothing overcame me;
There came a blister on my heel
I gave it up; and who can blame me? Then wrote my "Pulse of Nature's Heart,"
Which I procured some little cash on,
And quickly packed me to depart
In search of "gilded haunts" of fashion,
Which I might puff at column rates,
To please my host and meet my reckoning;
"Base is the slave who" hesitates
When wealth, and pleasure both are beckoning. I sought; I found. Among the swells
I had my share of small successes,
Made languid love to languid belles
And penn'd descriptions of their dresses.
Ah! Millionairess Millicent,
How fair you were! How you adored me!
How many tender hours we spent
And, oh, beloved, how you bored me!
APRIL, 1871... Continue reading book >>
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Poetry |
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