Page 80 - Poetry-Romance

When on my bicycles I speed.
I have at least a score of wheels,
And through each magazine I whirl.
Ah! brighter bliss no monarch feels
Than crowns the advertising girl!”

— Priscilla Leonard (Century Magazine, 1897)

A Dream

I sleep and dream (ah, vision bright!)
That I am she in whom unite
Concatenations of delight,
And such diversity of plight
(All printed out in black and white),
As never fell to king, or knight,
Or queen, or belted earl.
A dream of fame—where were its bliss?
Of fortune—what were that to this?
Of moonlight and a lover’s kiss?
All fade to her who dreams she is
The Advertisement Girl.

Through many a page I, scorching, take
My course by boulevard, bush, and brake,
Upon my wheel that “takes the cake”;
My wheel that cannot shake or break;
My wheel no rivals can o’ertake;
My wheel of every human make,
And evermore “the best”!
When tired I turn the page, and I
On medicated pillows lie,
A sweet dream in each conscious eye;
Or, in a hammock swung anigh
(The only make you ought to buy!),
I picturesquely rest.

~ 78 ~