For I am small, And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it! She gives to me The weakest tea, And takes the whole Souchong of it; For I am small, And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it; She'll sometimes grip My buggy whip, And make me feel the thong of it; For I am small, And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it! Against my life She'll take a knife, Or fork, and dart the prong of it; For I am small, And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it! I sometimes think I'll take to drink, And hector when I'm strong of it; For I am small, And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it! O, if the bell Would ring her knell, I'd make a gay ding dong of it; And she is tall, And that's the short and long of it! THE DUEL. A SERIOUS BALLAD. "Like the two Kings of Brentford smelling at one nosegay." IN Brentford town, of old renown, There lived a Mister Bray, To see her ride from Hammersmith, By all it was allowed, Such fair outsides are seldom seen, Such Angels on a Cloud. Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay, And court Miss Bell, but there your court Unless you now give up your suit, So pray before you woo her more, Consider what you do ; If you pop aught to Lucy Bell,— Said Mr. Clay to Mr. Bray, And so I say to you unless I who have shot and hit bulls' eyes, Now gold is oft for silver changed, But first they sought a friend a-piece, When they were dead, they thus should have Two seconds still to live. To measure out the ground not long And having taken one rash step They next prepared each pistol-pan By putting in the prime of death Now all was ready for the foes, Said Mr. C. to Mr. B., Here one of us may fall, And like St. Paul's Cathedral now, Be doomed to have a ball. I do confess I did attach Misconduct to your name; If I withdraw the charge, will then Said Mr. B., I do agree But think of Honour's Courts ! If we go off without a shot, There will be strange reports. But look, the morning now is bright, Though cloudy it begun ; Why can't we aim above, as if So up into the harmless air, ODE TO MR. MALTHUS. My dear, do pull the bell, And pull it well, And send those noisy children all up stairs, Now playing here like bears You George, and William, go into the grounds, Charles, James, and Bob are there, and take your string, Drive horses, or fly kites, or any thing, You 're quite enough to play at hare and hounds, You little May, and Caroline, and Poll, Take each your doll, And go, my dears, into the two-back pair, Harriet and Grace, thank God, are both at school, At far off Ponty Pool |