I'M GOING TO BOMBAY. "Nothing venture, nothing have."-OLD PROVERB. "Every Indiaman has at least two mates." I. FALCONER'S MARINE GUIDE. My hair is brown, my eyes are blue, I'm shapely, if they tell me true, If I am fair, so much the worse, II. At school I passed with some éclât; III. I've been to Bath and Cheltenham Wells, To Ramsgate-not to pick up shells,— To Brighton-not to dip. I've toured the Lakes, and scoured the coast From Scarboro' to Torquay But tho' of time I've made the most, I'm going to Bombay! IV. By Pa and Ma I'm daily told To marry now's my time, For though I'm very far from old They say while we have any sun V. My cousin writes from Hyderapot And swears I ought to thank my stars She says VI. that I shall much delight To taste their Indian treats, But what she likes may turn me quite, On doolies and on bungalows- VII. She says that I shall much enjoy,- I like to drive my pony-chair, But elephants are horses there I'm going to Bombay! VIII. Farewell, farewell, my parents dear, And oh, what costs a sadder tear, If I should find an Indian vault, Or steep in salt, it's all his fault, I'm going to Bombay! IX. That fine new teak-built ship, the Fox, Now lying in the London Docks, X. My heart is full-my trunks as well; My corsets shaped by Mrs. Bell, Are promised ere I sup; With boots and shoes, Rivarta's best, And dresses by Ducé, And a special license in my chest- ODE TO THE ADVOCATES FOR THE REMOVAL OF SMITHFIELD MARKET. "Sweeping our flocks and herds."-DOUGLAS. O PHILANTHROPIC men!- For this address I need not make apology— And planting further off its vile Zoology— I like your efforts well, For routing that great nest of Hornithology! Be not dismayed, although repulsed at first, parts, Charge on!-you shall upon their hornworks burst, And carry all their Bull-warks and their Ramparts, Go on, ye wholesale drovers! And drive away the Smithfield flocks and herds! As wild as Tartar-Curds, That come so fat, and kicking, from their clovers, Off with them all!-those restive brutes, that vex Our streets, and plunge, and lunge, and butt, and battle; And save the female sex From being cowed-like Iö-by the cattle! Fancy, when droves appear on The hill of Holborn, roaring from its top,- Or, in St. Martin's Lane, Into a coffee-house, To find it-Slaughter's! Or fancy this: Walking along the street, some stranger Miss, Her head with no such thought of danger laden, When suddenly 'tis " Aries Taurus Virgo!" ergo, You don't know Latin, I translate it Think of some poor old crone Treated, just like a penny, with a toss ! For making a Cow Cross! Nay, fancy your own selves far off from stall, Methinks I hear the neighbours that live round Thus make appeal unto their civic fellows- But our firesides are troubled with their bellows." "Folks that too freely sup Must e'en put up With their own troubles if they can't digest; The case as hard That others' victuals should disturb our rest, That from our sleep your food should start and jump us! We like, ourselves, a steak, But, Sirs, for pity's sake! We don't want oxen at our doors to rump-us! If we do doze-it really is too bad! We constantly are roared awake or rung, [Young!" That run in all the Night Thoughts' of our Such are the woes of sleepers-now let's take |