THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES i£X* m S*7 ap Ube Xove=Xettevs of a Daoabono. ' The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on ; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.' Om-vr-i-Khavyam, The Love-Letters of a Vagabond. BY EDWARD HERON-ALLEN. ' Ah, Love ! could you and I with Him conspire, To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would we not shatter it to bits— and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire? ' Omar-i-Kkdyydm. LONDON: HENRY J. DRANE, Sausuuky House, Sa isbury Square, Fleet Street, E.C. mdcccxcvi. UNIFORM WITH THIS BOOK IN STYLE AND PRICE POEMS OF PASSION. By Ella Wheeler. MAURINE, AND OTHER POEMS. By Ella Wheeler. POEMS OF PLEASURE. By Ella Wheeler. Presentation Editions of the above vol- umes can be had, price Two Shill- ings and Sixpence each. A Presentation Edition of "' Love Letters of a Vagabond,' can be had, printed on antique paper and bound in half vellum, price Five Shillings. To You, in music, was my soul outpoured, When — years ago — I sang these songs, and now Wide oceans roll between me and your grave, But still your calm eyes, closed to contemplate Eternity, come sometimes, my Adored, And, looking into mine, have told me how Death could not rob me of the Love you gave. 870402 Pues la pena cruel que en mi se ha 11 a, Para contalla picte nuevos modos. * t Mas yo milagro nunca, visto ! vivo Zeloso, ausente, desdenado y cierto De las sospechas que me tienen mueitn, Y en el olvido en quien mi fuego avivo. Dire que va acertado el que bien quiere Y que es mas libie el alma mas rendida A la de amor anligua Urania. Dire que la enemiga siempre mia Ilermosa el alma como el cuerpo tiene Y que su olvido de mi culpa nace, Ofrecere a los vientos cuerpo y alma Sin lauro 6 palma de futures bienes. Antes con risa en la ocasion fum Descubre que cl fin mio fue Hi fiesta Mas gran simpleza es avisarte de^-to, Pues se que esta tu gloria conocida, En que mi vida llegue al fin tan presto. Cancion de Grlsostomo. INDEX OF THE LOVE-LETTERS. I. — A Burden of Friendship, . II. — A Ballade of Friendship, . III. —Another Chance gone ! — An Everyday Occurrence, . IV. — Sympathy, V. — To a Debutante, VI. — Unpopularity, . VII. — My Intercessor, VIII.— l Le Chant a" Amour Triovipfiant,' IX.— She and I, X.— Nadine: A Serenade. XI. — By the Banks of the Lackawanna, XII. — Two Songs — I. Heart Silence, XIII.— II. At Parting, . XIV.— A Memory : after a Visit, . PAGE 3 8 12 14 16 19 25 27 29 32 34 35 38 Index of the Love- Letters. XV.— A Rherie PAGE 4 XVI. — Awakening ! . 44 XVII. — ' My old Love lives,' 45 XVIII.—' This is not Life!' . 47 XIX. — ' Ah, nevermore ! ' 49 XX.— After, .... 5o XXI.—' I love You so ! ' 53 XXII. — Coquetterie, 55 XXIII.— Questioning, . 57 XXIV.— Retrospection, . £3 XXV.— Hatred ! . XXVI.— Erotic Chestnuts, .... XXVII. — 'On Christmas Day, for You,' . XXVIII.— From a Bachelor to His Married 'Pal,' XXIX.— A Ballade of Second-hand Books, . XXX. — A Ballade of Jauss's Restaurant, XXXI.— To a Child-Virtuosa, XXXII. — The Fascinating Boarder, . XXXIII. — Eheu Fugaces ! .... XXXIV. — To his Dog — In Memoriam, 64 67 6a 73 75 77 80 83 85 £be OlovoXetters of a IDaaabonfc. IVES there the man, or has there ever lived, Since Cain betook him to the Land of Nod And took to wife a daughter — perhaps more — Of mat mysterious land that rests unknown To the geographer of later days, Who has not written love-letters ? Perhaps Such man exists, or has existed, — nay, Possibly you who read these lines are such. If that be so, lay down this ittle book, My verses are not written for vour eyes. Observe, I said ' the man ' for though there be Some room for doubt among he sterner sex, The Love-Letiers of j, Vagabond. [Whereof some, more repulsive than the rest May ne'er have known the thing that men call love], Yet I maintain that our sweet sister-halves Must necessarily be wise upon The bitter pleasures and the mad-sweet pains Which 'tis their blessed province to evoke. Deal gently with me reader, for, methinks, It may perhaps be I am over-bold In thus unburdening — I almost said My heart, but now-a-days such things are not 1 — Unburdening my basket of the scraps Flung into it from time to time when love Has seemed to hover near me. Long ago Some sage laid down the well-worn axiom that The abstract is imposing, and therefore Its opposite, the concrete, is grotesque : This is my state of mind, I do protest ; The moods that made these verses I revere, The words wherein I wrote them I revile, And now that I am older, and perhaps A trifle wiser, I may safely say The Love- Letters of a Vagabond. 3 'Twere better had I checked my wand'ring thoughts. With the philosophy of this first song. I. Lo VE is not for me and you,, H JBiu^en of ffrien&sbip. Let us be the best of friends ! Dear ! — your lips of cherry hue, Hair of gold, and eyes of blue, And your lovely cheek that any rose with envy rends ! Well I know should move Love within mine empty heart. And make it agony to part From you ; But alas ! on beauty and no more, love ne'er depends : So let us be the best of friends ; But do 7iot let us love ! Let us be the best of friends, Love is not for me and you ! Sweet ! — your voice that croons to me Scraps of old-time melody, Sure inpleadingfor yoursinsof love mightcrave amends, The Love-Letlers of a Vagabond. And successful prove. Sweeter than Luscinia's flute. Gaining pardon absolute For you; Yes ! — I know 'tis so, and all my soul to you ascends : But let us be the best of friends. And do not let us love / Love is not for vie and you, Let us be the. best of friends f Would you know the reason why ? I will tell you. — Poets cry That they must surely die when love begins and straightway ends ! I, the fancy wove That I loved you, dear, — and yet — Knowing you're a sad coquette, — Yes ! — you. I will not give you for a toy, a lnve that all transcends: So let us be the be si of friends j But :Jo not let us love ! The Love- Letters of a Vagabond. POST-SCRIPTUM. Love, with me, all else transcends* Are you sure it's thus with you ? Do you think you could 'be true ? Really ? * * * Well ! — let's remain the best of friends. And never let us love, Really / But it is hard, perhaps impossible, To check young Cupid's flight ere yet his wings Have borne him o'er the gentle meadow-land That men call 'friendship,' though, indeed myself, I checked him once with lilt of this 'Ballade/ The Songsters aye among the things '&:6iUaJ