Her error and, I trust, his own,
Wired to the minion of the Law,
And traveled wifeward--not alone.

For Lilly--thirteen-two and bay--
Came in a horse-box all the way.

There was a scene--a weep or two--
With many kisses. Austen Jane
Rode Lilly all the season through,
And never opened wires again.

She races now with Belial. This
Is very sad, but so it is.


POSSIBILITIES

Ay, lay him 'neath the Simla pine--
A fortnight fully to be missed,
Behold, we lose our fourth at whist,
A chair is vacant where we dine.

His place forgets him; other men
Have bought his ponies, guns, and traps.
His fortune is the Great Perhaps
And that cool rest-house down the glen,

Whence he shall hear, as spirits may,
Our mundane revel on the height,