poem index

sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox

About this Poem 

From Ballads and Songs (London: Cassell and Company, 1896).

 

The Almack's Adieu

  Your Fanny was never false-hearted,
    And this she protests and she vows,
  From the triste moment when we parted
    On the staircase of Devonshire House!
  I blushed when you asked me to marry,
    I vowed I would never forget;
  And at parting I gave my dear Harry
    A beautiful vinegarette!

  We spent en province all December,
    And I ne'er condescended to look
  At Sir Charles, or the rich county member,
    Or even at that darling old Duke.
  You were busy with dogs and with horses,
    Alone in my chamber I sat,
  And made you the nicest of purses,
    And the smartest black satin cravat!

  At night with that vile Lady Frances
    (Je faisois moi tapisserie)
  You danced every one of the dances,
    And never once thought of poor me!
  Mon pauvre petit coeur! what a shiver
    I felt as she danced the last set;
  And you gave, O mon Dieu! to revive her
    My beautiful vinegarette!

  Return, love! away with coquetting;
    This flirting disgraces a man!
  And ah! all the while you're forgetting
    The heart of your poor little Fan!
  Reviens! break away from those Circes,
    Reviens, for a nice little chat;
  And I've made you the sweetest of purses,
    And a lovely black satin cravat!

This poem is in the public domain. 

This poem is in the public domain. 

William Makepeace Thackeray

William Makepeace Thackeray, born July 18, 1811, was an English writer best known for his novels, particularly The History of Henry Esmond, Esq. (The Mershon Company Publishers, 1852) and Vanity Fair (Bradbury and Evans, 1848). While in school, Thackeray began writing poems, which he published in a number of magazines, chiefly Fraser and Punch. He died on December 24, 1863.

by this poet

poem
  (IN REPLY TO AN INVITATION DATED ON THE 1ST.)

 By fate's benevolent award,
    Should I survive the day,
  I'll drink a bumper with my lord
    Upon the last of May.

  That I may reach that happy time
    The kindly gods I pray,
  For are not ducks and pease in prime
    Upon the last of May?

  At thirty
poem
  WRITTEN IN A LADY'S ALBUM.

  "Coming from a gloomy court,
  Place of Israelite resort,
  This old lamp I've brought with me.
  Madam, on its panes you'll see
  The initials K and E."

  "An old lantern brought to me?
  Ugly, dingy, battered, black!"
  (Here a lady I suppose
  Turning up a pretty nose)—
  "
poem
  LINES WRITTEN TO AN ALBUM PRINT.

  As on this pictured page I look,
  This pretty tale of line and hook
  As though it were a novel-book
      Amuses and engages:
  I know them both, the boy and girl;
  She is the daughter of the Earl,
  The lad (that has his hair in curl)
      My lord the County's page has