Oh! when I snatched a tender kiss, But then to gaze on that fair face To dream that you had pilfered lace — And Flints had suffered from your stealing! Or when my suit I first preferred, How could I dream you'd heard a sentence ! Or when with all the warmth of youth I strove to prove my love no fiction, How could I dream that ivory part, Your hand where I have looked and lingered, Altho' it stole away my heart, Had been held up as one light-fingered! In melting verse your charms I drew, Oh! when that form, a lovely one, A chance of hanging on your own too. You said you picked me from the world, And down at once my pride is hurled, You've picked me- and you've picked a pocket! Oh! when our love had got so far, Why did not some one shout " Old Bailey?" But when you robed your flesh and bones And when the parson came to say, "O Bay of Botany." But, ok, the worst of all-your slips NO. II. 66 Love, with a witness!" HE has shaved off his whiskers and blackened his brows, Wears a patch and a wig of false hair,— He had beautiful eyes, and his lips were the same, And his voice was as soft as a flute Like a Lord or a Marquis he looked, when he came, To make love in his master's best suit. If I lived for a thousand long years from my birth, I shall never forget what he told; How he loved me beyond the rich women of earth, With their jewels and silver and gold! When he kissed me and bade me adieu with a sigh, By the light of the sweetest of moons, Oh how little I dreamt I was bidding good-bye To my Missis's teapot and spoons! NO. III. "I'd be a Parody." — BAILEY. WE met t'was in a mob and I thought he I could not feel for no watch was upon - the night was cold unaltered, I too longed much to pelt legs faltered. I wore my bran new boots - and unrivalled their brightness, They fit me to a hair — how I hated their tightness! I called, but no one came, and my stride had a tether Oh thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my leather! I seized upon his arm, he was mine and mine only, And stept as he deserved to cells wretched and lonely : And there he will be tried - but I shall ne'er receive her, The watch that went too sure for an artful de ceiver; The world may think me gay,- heart and feet ache together, Oh thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my leather. FRENCH AND ENGLISH. "Good heaven! Why even the little children in France speak French!" ADDISON. I. NEVER go to France Unless you know the lingo, If you do, like me, You will repent by jingo. Staring like a fool, And silent as a mummy, A nation with a dummy: II. Chaises stand for chairs, |