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And that great German, Vander Trunk,
A FEW LINES ON COMPLETING FORTY-SEVEN.
WHEN I reflect with serious sense,
years run on, How soon I may be summoned hence
There's cook a-calling John.
Our lives are built so frail and poor,
On sand and not on rocks,
There's some one double-knocks.
All human days have settled terms,
Our fates we cannot force ;
They ’re come to lunch of course.
And when my body 's turned to clay,
And dear friends hear my knell,
O let them give a sigh and say
I hear the upstairs bell.
TO MARY HOUSEMAID.
ON VALENTINE'S DAY.
MARY, you know I've no love-nonsense,
And, though I pen on such a day,
Or writing in the courting way.
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.
PAIN IN A PLEASURE BOAT.
A SEA ECLOGUE.
“I apprehend you!” -- SCHOOL OF REFORM.
BOATMAN. Shove off there! — ship the rudder, Bill — cast
off! she's under way!
She's under what? — I hope she's not ! good
gracious, what a spray !
Run out the jib, and rig the boom! keep clear of
those two brigs !
I hope they don't intend some joke by running of
Bill, shift them bags of ballast aft
- she's rather
out of trim !
MRS. F. Great bags of stones! they're pretty things to help
a boat to swim !
BOATMAN. The wind is fresh - if she don't scud, it's not the
breeze's fault !
MRS. F. Wind fresh, indeed, I never felt the air so full of salt !
BOATMAN. That schooner, Bill, harn't left the roads, with
oranges and nuts!
MRS. F. If seas have roads, they ’re very rough — I never
felt such ruts!
BOATMAN. It’s neap, ye see, she's heavy lade, and could n't pass
MRS. F. The bar! what, roads with turnpikes too ? I won
der where they are !
BOATMAN. Ho! Brig ahoy! hard up! hard up! that lubber MRS. F. Yes, yes,— hard up upon a rock! I know some danger 's near!
[ing like a bull ! Lord, there's a wave! it's coming in ! and roar
BOATMAN. Nothing, Ma'am, but a little slop! go large, Bill!
keep her full!
MRS. F. What, keep her full! what daring work ! when full, she must go
BOATMAN. Why, Bill, it lulls ! ease off a bit — it's coming
off the town! Steady your helm! we'll clear the Pint! lay
right for yonder pink !
MRS. F. Be steady - well, I hope they can! but they've
got a pint of drink !
BOATMAN. Bill, give that sheet another haul — she 'll fetch it up
Mrs. F. I'm getting rather pale, I know, and they see it
by that speech!