Page:Poems Nealds.djvu/131

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105

Sure nothing ever yet was so provoking;
I've miss'd a leaf you say! you cannot mean it!
Nay, do not laugh; I think it's past all joking!
Pray take the book—I wish I'd never seen it.

I'm sure some mischief-loving sprite
The leaves had been cementing,
And now is laughing with delight,
To hear me thus lamenting.

I know not how I can repair
This sad, this dire mistake,
If I had Russell's[1] pencil fair,
Some pretty sketch I'd make.

  1. A promising young artist resident at Guildford in Surrey, whose beautiful sketches we had seen a few days previously.