He told me stories (lately come)  Of good society, Some slightly tinged with truth, and some With impropriety.

p. 27He spoke of duelling in France, Then lightly glanced at Mrs. Mackenzie’s monster dance, Which he had danced at.

p. 27

So he ran on, till by-and-by A silence came, For which I greatly fear that I Was most to blame.

Then neither of us spoke a word For quite a minute, When presently a thought occurred With promise in it.

‘How did you like the Shakespeare play The students read?’ By this, the Eden like a bay Before us spread.

p. 28Near Eden many softer plots Of sand there be; Our feet, like Pharaoh’s chariots, Drave heavily.

p. 28

And ere an answer I could frame, He said that Irving Of his extraordinary fame Was undeserving,

And for his part he thought more highly Of Ellen Terry; Although he knew a girl named Riley At Broughty Ferry,

Who might be, if she only chose, As great a star. She had a part in the tableaux At the bazaar.

p. 29If I had said but little yet, I now said less, And smoked a home-made cigarette In mute distress.

p. 29

The smoke into his face was blown By the wind’s action, And this afforded me, I own, Some satisfaction;

But still his tongue received no check Till, coming home, We stood beside the ancient wreck And watched the foam

Wash in among the timbers, now Sunk deep in sand, Though I can well remember how I used to stand

p. 30On windy days and hold my hat, And idly turn To read ‘Lovise, Frederikstad’  Upon her stern.

p. 30

Her stern long since was buried quite, And soon no trace The absorbing sand will leave in sight To mark her place.

This reverie was not permitted To last too long. Bell’s mind had left the stage, and flitted To fields of song.

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