When musing on your face,
My sad imagination sees
Another in my place.
Say, do you listen to his prayer,
Or slay him with a frown?
At any rate I can't be there.
Come back to Town!

Why linger by some far-off lake
Or Continental strand?
St. Martin's Summer comes to make
A glory in the land.
The river runs a golden stream
Where WREN'S great dome looks down;
Thine eyes, methinks, have brighter gleam;
Come back to Town!

I hear your voice upon the wind,
In dreamland you appear;
But do you wonder that I find
The day so long and drear?
_Lentis adhærens brachiis_ come
Once more my life to crown;
Without thee 'tis too burdensome.
Come back to Town!

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.