He plied his feet so wondrous hard,

(All alexandrines) through the yard,

And to the jettée flew !

The watchmen, as they bawled,

"Past one

"O'clock!" had cause to rue,

For they could not run from sword or gun,

And found themselves past, too!

The bells all rung the loud alarm;

The belles all wrung their hands;

(past two?)

The bows twanged loud, and did much harm;

The beaux ran off in bands.

With tears in their eyes, and tears in their coats,

Many citizens took to flight:

But that horned herd were not scape-goats,

And were pounded all that night.

So fast the dreadful pillage sped,
Anchises could not keep his bed,—

Away with it the robbers run:
But he laid a bet, at monstrous odds,
That he'd escape with all his gods ;—

Eneas backed him-so he won.

Troy's veteran battalion hoary,

Men famed, and fat as sturgeons,

Were all cut up, with all their glory,
By some veterinary surgeons.

Wrath walked in blood, up to the shoe-tie;
Some sought for booty, some for beauty;

Some to the shambles steer,

And charged the butchers, there on duty,
For charging rather dear.

The insurance-companies were broke,
(Their profits turning all to smoke,)
So were the doors and windows,
Folks bawled out "Fire!"-and then were shot;
All thought the engagement rather hot,

For they were scorched like Hindoos.

The stock-jobbers took off their stocks,

To hang themselves, and 'scape the knocks,
As several other men did;

But they were caught, despite their locks,

And stockingless set in the stocks,

'Twas trade that was suspended.

The clergy, with their wives and nieces,
Were all stripped of their gowns,

And were deprived of their broad pieces,

Aye, and their little ones.

That horse could ne'er have caused such ruin,

Behaving worse than any Bruin,

If we believe the bards,

But that the regulars of Troy
Irregularly did enjoy

A snore at the Horse Guards.

Such was the end of that fair town
Which Gods had raised of yore,
For now the captors razed it down,
Much plainer than before.

Good folk, by this example rare,

You all have plainly seen

What troubles a poor king must bear,

That's married to a quean!

(queen ?)

JUPPITER AND LEDA.

O Jove, when to the charming Mrs. Tyndar
You made advances which she would not hinder,
Hot from the wave, an amatory squib,

Your form amphibious was but a d—d fib,

And your fair plumy coat a fowl deceit.

But what was most amazing in this feat

Is the strange fact that Tyndarella should
Take fire, at once, while dripping from the flood,
And burn for such a watery spark as you!

Perhaps your web-feet caught her, as you flew ;
Perhaps she took you for a rara avis ;

Ah, yes, a black swan were you with your gay phiz,
For then, when you had used the woman ill,

You hopeful bird, you offered her your bill

That never would pass current for a franc

At any bank, except a river's bank.

Just as before you played tricks with an IO,

And made your former miss cry often, "heigh ho!"
Poor Leda, she had then full little luck;

A swan she found, yet came but for a duck!
For this deception you deserve to be
Suspended-hanged twice over,—even as he
Who hath a double capability

For hanging; Inn-sign Swan who swings amain,
That noted Swan with Two Necks-in Lad-lane.