How lovely the elder brother's, Life all laced in the other's,, Lóve-laced!—what once I well, Witnessed; so fortune fell., When Shrovetide, two years gone,, Our boys' plays brought on, Part was picked for aji,, Young aji: then fear, then joy, hari in the elder boy., Their night was come now; all, Our company thronged the hall;, Raj , by the wall,, Beckoned me beside him:, I came where called, and eyed him, By meanwhiles; making my play, Turn most on tender byplay., For, wrung all on love's rack,, My lad, and lost in Jack,, Smiled, blushed, and bit his lip;, Or drove, with a diver's dip,, Clutched hands down through clasped knees—, Truth's tokens tricks like these,, Old telltales, with what stress, He hung on the imp's success., Now the other was bráss-bóld:, Hé had no work to hold, His heart up at the strain;, Nay, roguish ran the vein., Two tedious acts were past;, Jack's call and cue at last;, When Raj, heart-forsook,, Dropped eyes and dared not look., Eh, how áll rúng!, Young dog, he did give tongue!, But Harry—in his hands he has flung, His tear-tricked cheeks of flame, For fond love and for shame., Ah Nature, framed in fault,, There 's comfort then, there 's salt;, Nature, bad, base, and blind,, Dearly thou canst be kind;, There dearly thén, deárly,, I'll cry thou canst be kind.
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