ESCLAIRMONDE.

HE crown is proud

That decks our brow;

The laugh is loud

That glads us now;

The sounds that fall

Around-above

Are laden all

With love with love

With love with love.

Heaven cannot show,

'Mid all its sheen,

Orbs of such glow

As here are seen;

And monarch ne'er
Exulting owned,

Queen might compare

With Esclairmonde

With Esclairmonde.

From Bacchus' fount

Deep draughts we drain;

Their spirits mount,

And fire our brain;

But in our heart

Of hearts enthroned,

From all apart

Rests Esclairmonde--
Rests Esclairmonde.

W. HARRISON AINSWORTH.

[From Crichton, book ii. chap. ix., where it is sung by Henry III. of France, and called a "rondel."]

MY OLD COMPLAINT:

ITS CAUSE AND CURE.

'M sadly afraid of my Old Complaint-
Dying of thirst.-Not a drop have I drunk
For more than an hour: 'Tis too long to wait.
Wonderful how my spirits have sunk!

Provocation enough it is for a saint,

To suffer so much from my Old Complaint!

What is it like, my Old Complaint?

I'll tell you anon, since you wish to know.
It troubles me now, but it troubled me first,
When I was a youngster, years ago!

Bubble-and-squeak is the image quaint
Of what it is like, my Old Complaint!

The Herring, in a very few minutes, we're told,
Loses his life, ta'en out of the sea;

Rob me of wine, and you'll behold

Just the same thing happen to me.

Thirst makes the poor little Herring so faint ;

Thirst is the cause of my Old Complaint !

The bibulous Salmon is ill content,

Unless he batheth his jowl in brine:

And so, my spirits are quickly spent,

Unless I dip my muzzle in Wine!

Myself in the jolly old Salmon I paint :-
Wine is the cure of my Old Complaint!

Give me full bottles and no restraint,

And little you'll hear of my Old Complaint!

I never indulge in fanciful stuff,

Or idly prate, if my flagon be full;
Give me good Claret, and give me enough,
And then my spirits are never dull.

Give me good Claret and no constraint;
And I soon get rid of my Old Complaint !

Herring and Salmon my friends will acquaint

With the Cause and the Cure of my Old Complaint !
W. HARRISON AINSWORTH.

[From The Flitch of Bacon, part i. chap x., where it is sung by Captain Juddock.

[From Won by a Head, vol. iii., chap. xii., where it is sung by Regina Benvenuto. "It was Regina's voice, singing with all her wonderful flexibility of voice and expression, this simple, but, perhaps, singular song."]

[From Sunrise, vol. i. chap. xix. :-" Jacks wanders out-the breath of the morning stirs his memories-he thinks of other days. Then comes in Jack's song, which neither Calabressa nor any one else present could say was meant to be comic or pathetic, or a demoniac mixture of both."]