Volume 107 — TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.

From the Orchestra as I was staring So wearily down at the hall, The programme I held hardly caring To turn, I was tired of it all! For I knew 'twas a futile endeavour With music my trouble to drown, And I'd made up my mind that you never, Ah, never, would come back to town! When suddenly, there I beheld you Yourself—ah, the joyous amaze! I wonder what instinct impelled you Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise, That for one happy second's communing Met mine that had waited so long— And the wail of the violins tuning It turned to a jubilant song! 'Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow There breaks out a ripple of glee, And the voice of the violoncello, Althea, is pleading for me! The music is beating and surging With joy no adagio can drown, In ecstasy all things are merging— Because you have come back to town!