HUGGINS. Only with Peggy and with health, DUGGINS. Oh, how that day would seem to shine, DOMESTIC DIDACTICS. BY A FOOTMAN. THE BROKEN DISH. WHAT's life but full of care and doubt, With parasols we walk about, Long pigtails and such vanities. We plant pomegranate trees and things, We gather flowers of every hue, Walking about their groves of trees, ODE TO PEACE. WRITTEN ON THE NIGHT OF MY MISTRESS'S GRAND ROUT. Он Peace! oh come with me and dwell But stop, for there's the bell. Oh Peace! for thee I go and sit in churches, In loft or pew Another ring, the tarts are come from Birch's. Oh Peace! thou art the best of earthly goods. Oh Peace! thou art the Goddess I adore There come some more. Oh Peace! thou child of solitude and quiet That's Lord Drum's footman, for he loves a riot. Oh Peace! Knocks will not cease. Oh Peace! thou wert for human comfort planned That's Weippert's band. Oh Peace! how glad I welcome thy approachesI hear the sound of coaches. Oh Peace! oh Peace! — another carriage stops — It's early for the Blenkinsops. Oh Peace! with thee I love to wander, Oh Peace! - but here comes Captain Hare. Oh Peace! if you do not disdain Oh Peace! but there is Major Monk, And that great German, Vander Trunk, Oh Peace! - but here my Ode I'll cease; A FEW LINES ON COMPLETING FORTY-SEVEN. WHEN I reflect with serious sense, Our lives are built so frail and poor, We're hourly standing at Death's door- All human days have settled terms, This flesh of mine will feed the worms And when my body 's turned to clay, O let them give a sigh and say — TO MARY HOUSEMAID. ON VALENTINE'S DAY. MARY, you know I've no love-nonsense, Though Beauty hasn't formed your feature, It saves you, perhaps, from being vain, And many a poor unhappy creature May wish that she was half as plain. Your virtues would not rise an inch, Although your shape was two foot taller, And wisely you let others pinch Great waists and feet to make them smaller. You never try to spare your hands From getting red by household duty But, doing all that it commands, Their coarseness is a moral beauty. Let Susan flourish her fair arms And at your odd legs sneer and scoff, But let her laugh, for you have charms That nobody knows nothing of |