Seaweed, which Neptune’s favourites love. 
    SWINBURNE should sing in stanzas fleet,
    How NELSON may, at Chelsea, meet
    ARMSTRONG!  Sound conch-shell!  Let’s obey
    Thy Proclamation made for May. 
  Wild marine whiffs from the salt sea are straying,
  And the brine greets us as we go a-Maying.

  There’s not a London-Teuton but this day
  Hath a new welcome for the English May. 
    Germania from her distant home
    In Flora’s train this year doth come. 
    She hath despatched her country’s cream
    Of things, to make the Cockney dream. 
  Neptune and she have wooed and plighted troth,
  And her we give May-welcome, nothing loth,
    As many a welcome we have given
    To France, Spain, Italy!  War hath riven
    Many true hearts, but we’re content
    Of Peace to make experiment. 
  Blow Teuton horn—­(not like “Hernani’s” braying!)—­
  It makes new music as we go a-Maying!

  Come, let us go, while May is in its prime,
  And make the best of the brief Season’s time. 
    HERRICK’S CORINNA might not see
    An Urban May Queen such as we
    Behold disport in our rare sun. 
    Rouse, Nymph!  The Season is begun! 
  We’ll trust no blizzard, and no boreal rain
  May mar “Our Opening Day.”  Sound flutes again! 
    Pipe, Sir FREDERICK!  Ah, well played! 
    Tootle thy new strains, fair Maid. 
    Blow, oh Briny One, with might! 
    Teuton BRUNEHILD, glad our sight! 
  Fashion’s Floralia, Nymph, invite our straying;
  Come, my CORINNA, come; let’s go a-Maying!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

Painter.  “WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT?  THIS IS THE PICTURE THEY’VE THOUGHT PROPER TO REJECT!  I’LL BE SO BOLD AS TO SAY, THERE ARE NOT TWENTY BETTER IN THE WHOLE EXHIBITION!”

Friend.  “DEAR ME!  IS IT SUCH A POOR ACADEMY AS THAT?”]

* * * * *

THE HUMOUR O’T!

(Namely of Parliament, as seen through Harry Furniss’s fancy.)

AIR—­“The Wooing o’t.”

  LIKA JOKO makes us laugh,
    Ha! ha! the humour o’t! 
  With caricature and caustic chaff;
    He! he! the humour o’t! 
  Parliament strikes some as slow,
    LIKA JOKO deems not so;
  Visit his St. Stephen’s Show! 
    Humph! humph! the humour o’t!

  GLADSTONE stern and GLADSTONE staid,
    Ha! ha! the humour o’t! 
  GLADSTONE in war-paint arrayed,
    He! he! the humour o’t! 
  GLADSTONE “Out” and GLADSTONE “In,”
  GLADSTONE with colossal chin,
  Giant collars plunged within,
    Humph! humph! the humour o’t!

  SMITH with bland perennial smile,
    Ha! ha! the humour o’t! 
  BALFOUR, pet of the Green Isle,
    He! he! the humour o’t! 
  HARCOURT, big as Babel’s tower,
  GOSCHEN, with myopic glower,
  JOSEPH of the orchid-flower. 
    Humph! humph! the humour o’t!