December 23, 1914.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
521
With ivy wreathed, a hundred lights
Shone out; the Convent play was finished;
The waning term this night of nights
To a few golden hours diminished.
Shone out; the Convent play was finished;
The waning term this night of nights
To a few golden hours diminished.
Again the curtain rose. Outshone
The childish frocks and childish tresses
Of the late cast that had put on
Demureness and its party dresses.
The childish frocks and childish tresses
Of the late cast that had put on
Demureness and its party dresses.
Rustled a-row upon the stage
Big girls and little, ranged in sizes,
All waiting for the Personage
To make the speech and give the prizes.
Big girls and little, ranged in sizes,
All waiting for the Personage
To make the speech and give the prizes.
And there, all rosy from her róle,
Betsey with sturdy valiance bore her,
Nor did she recognize a soul
But braved the buzzing room before her
Betsey with sturdy valiance bore her,
Nor did she recognize a soul
But braved the buzzing room before her
With such resolve that guest on guest,
And many a smiling nun behind them,
Met her eyes obviously addressed
To proving that she did not mind them.
And many a smiling nun behind them,
Met her eyes obviously addressed
To proving that she did not mind them.
(So might a kitchen-kitten see—
Whose thoughts round housemaids' heels are centred—
The awful drawing-room's company
He inadvertently has entered.)
Whose thoughts round housemaids' heels are centred—
The awful drawing-room's company
He inadvertently has entered.)
Swift from her side the girlish crowd,
With lovely smiles and limber graces,
Went singly, took their prizes, bowed,
Returning sweetly to their places.
With lovely smiles and limber graces,
Went singly, took their prizes, bowed,
Returning sweetly to their places.
Then "Betsey-Jane!" and all the rout
(Her hidden mother grown romantic)
Beheld that little craft put out
Upon the polished floor's Atlantic.
(Her hidden mother grown romantic)
Beheld that little craft put out
Upon the polished floor's Atlantic.
The Personage bestowed her prize,
And Betsey, lowly as the others,
Bowed o'er her sandals, raised her eyes
Alight with pride—and met her mother's!
And Betsey, lowly as the others,
Bowed o'er her sandals, raised her eyes
Alight with pride—and met her mother's!
She thrust between the honoured row
Before her in her glad elation;
Her school-mates gasped to see her go;
The nuns divined her destination;
Before her in her glad elation;
Her school-mates gasped to see her go;
The nuns divined her destination;
The guests made way. Clap following clap
Acclaimed Convention's overleaping
As Betsey gained her mother's lap
And gave the prize into her keeping.
Acclaimed Convention's overleaping
As Betsey gained her mother's lap
And gave the prize into her keeping.
At the "Spotted Dog." "I 'ear there be two hundred soldiers—Borderers, they calls 'em—'ave come 'ere. Do yer reckon they'll be for us or agin' us, Jarge?"
Royalties We Have Never Met.
I. The Emperor Williams.
"The Emperor Williams, who was reported to have been at Breslau... seems to have returned to Berlin."—Evening Despatch.
Judge of the passionate hearts of men,
God of the wintry wind and snow,
Take back the blood-stained year again,
Give us the Christmas that we know!
God of the wintry wind and snow,
Take back the blood-stained year again,
Give us the Christmas that we know!
No stir of wings sweeps softly by;
No angel comes with blinding light;
Beneath the wild and wintry sky
No shepherds watch their flocks to-night.
No angel comes with blinding light;
Beneath the wild and wintry sky
No shepherds watch their flocks to-night.
In the dull thunder of the wind
We hear the cruel guns afar,
But in the glowering heavens we find
No guiding, solitary star.
*****
But lo! on this our Lord's birth-day,
Lit by the glory whence she came,
Peace, like a warrior, stands at bay,
A swift, defiant, living flame!
We hear the cruel guns afar,
But in the glowering heavens we find
No guiding, solitary star.
*****
But lo! on this our Lord's birth-day,
Lit by the glory whence she came,
Peace, like a warrior, stands at bay,
A swift, defiant, living flame!
Full-armed she stands in shining mail,
Erect, serene, unfaltering still,
Shod with a strength that cannot fail,
Strong with a fierce o'ermastering will.
Erect, serene, unfaltering still,
Shod with a strength that cannot fail,
Strong with a fierce o'ermastering will.
Where shattered homes and ruins be
She fights through dark and desperate days;
Beside the watchers on the sea
She guards the Channel's narrow ways.
She fights through dark and desperate days;
Beside the watchers on the sea
She guards the Channel's narrow ways.
Through iron hail and shattering shell,
Where the dull earth is stained with red,
Fearless she fronts the gates of Hell
And shields the unforgotten dead.
Where the dull earth is stained with red,
Fearless she fronts the gates of Hell
And shields the unforgotten dead.
So stands she, with her all at stake,
And battles for her own dear life,
That by one victory she may make
For evermore an end of strife.
And battles for her own dear life,
That by one victory she may make
For evermore an end of strife.
