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YE overseers and reviewers
Of all the Muses' sinks and sewers,
Who dwell on high,
Enthroned among your peers
The garreteers,
That border on the sky:
Who hear the music of the spheres,
Ye have such ears
And dwell so high!
I thank you for your criticism,
Which you have ushered in
With a delightful witticism
That tastes like rotten fruit preserved in gin;
And therefore marvel not that my two ballads,
Which are but like two salads,
By no means suit,
Like your fruit,
With your palates.
I do admire your dealings,
To speak according to your feelings,
And do believe if you had withal
You would drop honey,
And that you overflow with gall
Because you do not overflow with money.
Thence all your spite
Against a poor conundrumite,
Whose only business is to watch
Where the conundrums lie,
And be upon the watch,
As they go by ;
To make a simile in no feature
Resembling the creature
That he has in his eye,
Just as a fisher shoots an owl,
Or a sea-fowl,

To make the likeness of a fly;
'Just as you look into the fire,
For any likeness you desire.
Simile-making is an undertaking,
In which the undertaker
Resembles the marriage-contract maker;
A poor industrious man who means no ill,
But does the best he can
With a quill, .
In that he does according to his skill.
If matters can be brought to bear
So as to tie the knot,
He does not care
Whether they are a happy pair or not; .
And, as I said at first,
Nothing could make you all so keen
And curst,
But that which makes you all so lean, —
Hunger and thirst.
So now and then a judge

Consigns a wretch
To Master Ketch,
Having no grudge ;
No reason clear can be assigned,
Only, like you, he has not dined.
So far from wishing your allowance shorter,
I wish, for all your sakes,
You may never want beefsteaks
And porter,
And for your merits
A dram of British spirits.
And so I leave you with a fable
Designed, without a sneer,
To exhilarate your table
And give a relish to your beer.
I beg my compliments to all your ladies
The revieweresses-
Hark !!!
And, if you please take warning,
My fable is concerning
A cuckoo and a lark.
If I had said a nightingale,
You would have cried —
You could not fail,
That it was pride,
And naught beside,
That made me think of such a tale.
Upon a tree as they were sitting
They fell into a warm dispute,
Warmer than was fitting,
Which of them was the better flute.
After much prating
And debating,
Not worth relating,
Things came to such a pass,
They both agree
To take an ass
For referee :
The ass was studying botany and grass
Under the tree.
What do you think was the decree ?
“Why," said the ass,“the question is not hard;"
And so he made an excellent award,
As you shall see.
“ The lark," says he,
“Has got a wild fantastic pipe,
But no more music than a snipe;
It gives one pain
And turns one's brain,
One can't keep time to such a strain;
Whereas the cuckoo's note
Is measured and composed with thought;
His method is distinct and clear,
And dwells
Like bells
Upon the ear,
Which is the sweetest music one can hear.
I can distinguish, I 'll lay a wager,

His manner and expression,

| And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, From every forester and cager

And the crew of the captain's gig !" Of the profession."

Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which Thus ended the dispute :

Is a trick all seamen larn, The cuckoo was quite mute

And having got rid of a thumping quid
With admiration,

He spun this painful yarn : -
The lark stood laughing at the brute
Affecting so much penetration.

“'T was in the good ship Nancy Bell The ass was so intoxicated

That we sailed to the Indian sea, And shallow-pated,

And there on a reef we come to grief,
That ever since

Which has often occurred to me.
He's got a fancy in his skull,
That he's a commission from his prince,

“And pretty nigh all o' the crew was drowned Dated when the moon's at full;

(There was seventy-seven o' soul);

And only ten of the Nancy's men
To summon every soul,

Said “Here' to the muster-roll.
Every ass and ass's foal,
To try the quick and dull;

“There was me, and the cook, and the captain bold, Trumpeting through the fields and streets, And the mate of the Nancy brig, Stopping and jading all he meets,

And a bo'sun tight and a midshipmite, Pronouncing with an air

And the crew of the captain's gig. Of one pronouncing from the chair, “Here's a beauty, this is new,-

“For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink, And that's a blemish

Till a hungry we did feel, For which I have no relish," —

So we drawed a lot, and, accordin', shot
Just like the Critical Review.

The captain for our meal.

“ The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate,

And a delicate dish he made ;
THE YARN OF THE “NANCY BELL.” | Then our appetite with the midshipmite

We seven survivors stayed.

“And then we murdered the bo’sun tight, 'T was on the shores that round our coast

And he much resembled pig ; From Deal to Ramsgate span,

Then we wittled free, did the cook and me, That I found alone, on a piece of stone,

On the crew of the captain's gig. An elderly naval man.

“ Then only the cook and me was left, His hair was weedy, his beard was long,

And the delicate question, Which And weedy and long was he ;

Of us two goes to the kettle ?' arose, And I heard this wight on the shore recite,

And we argued it out as sich. In a singular minor key :

“For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, O, I am a cook and a captain bold,

And the cook he worshipped me; And the mate of the Nancy brig,

But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,

In the other chap's hold, you see. And the crew of the captain's gig."

""I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom. And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,

'Yes, that,' says I, 'you 'll be. Till I really felt afraid,

| I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I; For I could n't help thinking the man had been

And 'Exactly so,' quoth he. drinking, And so I simply said :

“Says he : Dear James, to murder me

Were a foolish thing to do, “O elderly man, it's little I know

For don't you see that you can't cook me, Of the duties of men of the sea,

While I can -- and will — cook you ?' And I'll eat my hand if I understand How you can possibly be

“So he boils the water, and takes the salt

And the pepper in portions true “At once a cook and a captain bold,

(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, And the mate of the Nancy brig,

And some sage and parsley too.



“ Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,

If I did not take care, Which his smiling features tell ;

Would come in for a share; "'T will soothing be if I let you see

Which I no wise intended How extremely nice you 'll smell.'

Till their manners were mended.

Of that there's no sign, “And he stirred it round, and round, and round,

I do therefore enjoin, And he sniffed at the foaming froth ;

And do strictly command, When I ups with his heels, and smothers his

Of which witness my hand,

That naught I have got In the scum of the boiling broth.

Be brought to hotch-pot;

But I give and devise And I eat that cook in a week or less,

As much as in me lies And as I eating be

To the son of my mother, The last of his chops, why I almost drops, ,

My own dear brother, For a wessel in sight I see.

To have and to hold,

All my silver and gold, “And I never larf, and I never smile,

Both sutton and potten,
And I never lark nor play ;

Until the world 's rotten,
But I sit and croak, and a single joke

As the affectionate pledges
I have - which is to say :

Of his brother. “0, I am a cook and a captain bold

And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig!”


I ASKED of Echo, 't other day,

(Whose words are few and often funny,) COLOGNE.

What to a novice she could say

Of courtship, love, and matrimony ? In Köln, a town of monks and bones,

Quoth Echo, plainly, — “Matter-o'-money!" And pavements fanged with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches, — Whom should I marry ? --- should it be I counted two-and-seventy stenches,

A dashing damsel, gay and pert,
All well-defined and several stinks!

A pattern of inconstancy;
Ye nymphs that reign o'er sewers and sinks, Or selfish, mercenary flirt ?
The river Rhine, it is well known,

Quoth Echo, sharply, — “Nary flirt !"
Doth wash your city of Cologne ;

What if, aweary of the strife But tell me, nymphs ! what power divine

That long has lured the dear deceiver,
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ?

She promise to amend her life,

And sin no more ; can I believe her?

Quoth Echo, very promptly, “Leave her :"

But if some maiden with a heart

On me should venture to bestow it,

Pray, should I act the wiser part
[The following will, by which a large fortune was bequeathed, was
proved in Doctors' Commons, London, in 1737.)

To take the treasure, or forego it ?
The fifth day of May

Quoth Echo, with decision, — “Go it!"
Being airy and gay,

But what if, seemingly afraid
And to hyp. not inclined,

To bind her fate in Hymen's fetter,
But of vigorous mind,

She vow she means to die a maid,
And my body in health,

In answer to my loving letter?
I'll dispose of my wealth,

Quoth Echo, rather coolly, - "Let her!”
And all I 'm to leave
On this side of the grave,

| What if, in spite of her disdain,
To some one or other,

I find my heart intwined about
And I think to my brother,

With Cupid's dear delicious chain
Because I foresaw

So closely that I can't get out!
That my brethren in law,

| Quoth Echo, laughingly, - “Get out!"


But if some maid with beauty blest,

As pure and fair as Heaven can make her,
Will share my labor and my rest

Till envious Death shall overtake her ?
Quoth Echo (sotto voce), — " Take her!”



".... Videmus Nugari solitos." - PERSIUS.


WAILOM by silver Thames's gentle stream,

In London town there dwelt a subtle wight, A wight of mickle wealth, and mickle fame,

Book-learned and quaint : a Virtuoso hight. Uncommon things, and rare, were his delight;

From musings deep his brain ne'er gotten ease, Nor ceased he from study, day or night; | Until (advancing onward by degrees)

Heknew whatever breeds on earth or air or seas.

BESIDE, he was a shrewd philosopher,
And had read every text and gloss over ;
Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath,
He understood b' implicit faith.
Whatever sceptic could inquire for,
For every why he had a wherefore;
Knew more than forty of them do,
As far as words and terms could go :
All which he understood by rote,
And, as occasion served, would quote ;
No matter whether right or wrong;
They might be either said or sung.
His notions fitted things so well
That which was which he could not tell;
But oftentimes mistook the one
For the other, as great clerks have done.
He could reduce all things to acts,
And knew their natures by abstracts;
Where entity and quiddity,
The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly;
Where truth in person does appear,
Like words congealed in northern air :
He knew what's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.

He many a creature did anatomize,

Almost un peopling water, air, and land ; Beasts, fishes, birds, snails, caterpillars, flies,

Were laid full low by his relentless hand, That oft with gory crimson was distained;

He many a dog destroyed, and many a cat;
Of fleas his bed, of frogs the marshes drained,

Could tellen if a mite were lean or fat,
And read a lecture o'er the entrails of a gnat.

He knew the various modes of ancient times,

Their arts and fashions of each different guise, Their weddings, funerals, punishments for crimes,

Their strength, their learning eke, and rarities;
Of old habiliments, each sort and size,

Male, female, high and low, to him were known;
Each gladiator dress, and stage disguise ;
With learnéd, clerkly phrase he could have

How the Greek tunic differed from the Roman



A curious medallist, I wot, he was,

And boasted many a course of ancient coin ;

Well as his wife's he knewen every face,
He was in logic a great critic,

From Julius Cæsar down to Constantine : Profoundly skilled in analytic ;

For some rare sculpture he would oft ypine,

(As green-sick damosels for husbands do ;) He could distinguish and divide

And when obtainéd, with enraptured eyne, A hair 'twixt south and southwest side ;

He'd run it o'er and o'er with greedy view, On either which he would dispute,

And look, and look again, as he would look it Confute, change hands, and still confute :

He'd undertake to prove, by force
Of argument, a man's no horse ;
He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl,

His rich museum, of dimensions fair,
And that a lord may be an owl,

With goods that spoke the owner's mind was A calf an alderman, a goose a justice,

fraught : And rooks committee-men and trustees.

Things ancient, curious, value-worth, and rare, He'd run in debt by disputation,

From sea and land, from Greece and Rome, were

brought, And pay with ratiocination : All this by syllogism true,

Which he with mighty sums of gold had bought:

On these all tides with joyous eyes he pored ; In mood and figure he would do.

SAMUEL BUTLER. | And, sooth to say, himself he greater thought,

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When he beheld his cabinets thus stored,
Than if he'd been of Albion's wealthy cities lord


You'll tell me, p'rhaps, I 've only lost one

And bid me try another - for the rubber ;
Permit me to inform you all, with shame,
That you 're a set of knaves, and I'm a lubber."



CANUTE was by his nobles taught to fancy,
That, by a kind of royal necromancy,

He had the power Old Ocean to control.

A REMINISCENCE OF "THE LATE ONPLEASANTNESS." Down rushed the royal Dane upon the strand, And issued, like a Solomon, command, - As vonce I valked by a dismal swamp, Poor soul.

There sot an Old Cove in the dark and damp,

And at everybody as passed that road Go back, ye waves, you blustering rogues," A stick or a stone this Old Cove throwed ; quoth he;

And venever he flung his stick or his stone, “ Touch not your lord and master, Sea; He'd set up a song of “Let me alone.”

For by my power almighty, if you do — ” Then, staring vengeance, out he held a stick,

“Let me alone, for I loves to shy Vowing to drive Old Ocean to Old Nick,

These bits of things at the passers-by ; Should he even wet the latchet of his shoe.

Let me alone, for I've got your tin,

And lots of other traps snugly in ; The Sea retired, — the monarch fierce rushed on,

Let me alone, - I am rigging a boat And looked as if he'd drive him from the land;

To grab votever you've got afloat; But Sea, not caring to be put upon,

In a veek or so I expects to come Made for a moment a bold stand :

And turn you out of your 'ouse and 'ome;

I'm a quiet Old Cove," says he, with a groan ; Not only made a stand did Mr. Ocean,

“All I axes is, Let me alone.” But to his honest waves he made a motion, And bid them give the king a hearty trimming.

Just then came along, on the self-same vay, The orders seemed a deal the waves to tickle, | Another Old Cove, and began for to say, For soon they put his majesty in pickle,

“Let you alone! That's comin' it strong! And sat his royalties, like geese, a swimming.

You've ben let alone — a darned site too long!

Of all the sarce that ever I heerd! All hands aloft, with one tremendous roar,

Put down that stick! (You may well look skeered.) Sound did they make him wish himself on shore ;

Let go that stone! If you once show fight, His head and ears most handsomely they

I'll knock you higher than any kite. doused,

You must have a lesson to stop your tricks, Just like a porpoise, with one general shout,

And cure you of shying them stones and sticks; The waves so tumbled the poor king about,

| And I 'll have my hardware back, and my No anabaptist e'er was half so soused.


And knock your scow into tarnal smash; Atlength to land he crawled, a half-drowned thing, And if ever I catches you round my ranch, Indeed more like a crab than like a king, I'll string you up to the nearest branch. And found his courtiers making rueful faces :

The best you can do is to go to bed, But what said Canute to the lords and gentry,

And keep a decent tongue in your head; Who hailed him from the water, on his entry,

For I reckon, before you and I are done, 111 trembling for their lives or places ? You 'll wish you had let honest folks alone."

“My lords and gentlemen, by your advice,

I've had with Mr. Sea a pretty bustle ; My treatment from my foe not over nice,

Just made a jest for every shrimp and muscle :

The Old Cove stopped, and t'other Old Cove,
He sot quite still in his cypress grove,
And he looked at his stick, revolvin' slow,
Vether 't were safe to shy it, or no ;
And he grumbled on, in an injured tone,
"All that I axed vos, Let me alone."


A pretty trick for one of my dominion !-
My lords, I thank you for your great opinion.

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