As shineth from a homemade Chinese lantern.
No HAFIZ he, or SAADI, yet he _can_ turn
Authentic Sanscrit to--Telegraphese,
And make the Muse a moon-faced Japanese.
Leaderesque love of gentle gush and "Caps.,"
Is blent in him with fondness for the Japs.
"Wah! wah! futtee!--wah! wah, gooroo!" he cried,
And twanged his tinkling orient lyre with pride.

THE MOANING OF THE BARDS.

No moaning of the _bards_! A pleasant quip!
No manufactured gloom to dim that far light!
Of dirge's luxury deprive my lip?
So suns might say there shall be no more starlight!

Lamping is _not_ required at day's full noon,
Lanterns _are_ out of place in dawn's fair flush-light;
But when dark night sets in, and there's no moon,
There is a chance for stars, or even a rushlight.

No moaning of the bards? That were hard lines
For minor line-spinners, imperial TENNYSON!
Owls only have their chance when day declines,
That's why the night-birds crown thee with prompt benison.

LEWIS has wailed and warbled--twiddlingly:
ALFRED has--rootley-tootlely--wailed and warbled;
WILLIAM's young Muse hath wept--then why not Me,
Whose brow, not less than theirs, with woe is marbled?