It gave a lurch and down he went,
Head-foremost in his fall!

Three times he did not rise, alas!
He never rose at all!

But down he went, right down at once,

Like any stone he dived,

He could not see, or hear, or feel

Of senses all deprived!

At last he gave a look around

To see where he arrived!

And all that he could see was green,
Sea-green on every hand!

And then he tried to sound beneath,
And all he felt was sand!

There he was fain to lie, for he
Could neither sit nor stand!

And lo! above his head there bent
A strange and staring lass!
One hand was in her yellow hair,
The other held a glass;

A mermaid she must surely be
If ever mermaid was!

Her fish-like mouth was opened wide,

Her eyes were blue and pale, Her dress was of the ocean green,

When ruffled by a gale;

Thought he "beneath that petticoat
She hides a salmon-tail!"

She looked as siren ought to look,
A sharp and bitter shrew,
To sing deceiving lullabies

For mariners to rue,―

But when he saw her lips apart,

It chilled him through and through!

With either hand he stopped his ears
Against her evil cry;

Alas, alas, for all his care,

His doom it seemed to die,

Her voice went ringing through his head It was so sharp and high!

He thrust his fingers further in

At each unwilling ear,

But still, in very spite of all,

The words were plain and clear: "I can't stand here the whole day long, To hold your glass of beer!"

With opened mouth and opened eyes,

Up rose the Sub-marine,

And gave a stare to find the sands

And deeps where he had been: There was no siren with her glass! No waters ocean-green!

The wet deception from his eyes

Kept fading more and more,
He only saw the bar-maid stand
With pouting lip before —

The small green parlor of The Ship,

And little sanded floor!

DOG-REL VERSES, BY A POOR BLIND.

"Hark! hark! the dogs do bark,

The beggars are coming. . .

Он what shall I do for a dog?

OLD BALLAD.

Of sight I have not got a particle,
Globe, Standard, or Sun,

Times, Chronicle - none
Can give me a good leading article.

A Mastiff once led me about,

But people appeared so to fear him
I might have got pence
Without his defence,

But Charity would not come near him.

A Bloodhound was not much amiss,
But instinct at last got the upper;
And tracking Bill Soames,

And thieves to their homes,

I never could get home to supper.

242

DOG-GREL VERSES, BY A POOR BLIND.

A Fox-hound once served me as guide,

A good one at hill and at valley;
But day after day

He led me astray,

To follow a milk-woman's tally.

A turnspit once did me good turns

At going and crossing, and stopping;
Till one day his breed

Went off at full speed,

To spit at a great fire in Wapping.

A Pointer once pointed my way,

But did not turn out quite so pleasant,
Each hour I'd a stop

At a Poulterer's shop

To point at a very high pheasant.

A Pug did not suit me at all,

The feature unluckily rose up;
And folks took offence

When offering pence,

Because of his turning his nose up.

A Butcher once gave me a dog,

That turned out the worst one of any;

A Bull-dog's own pup,

I got a toss up,

Before he had brought me a penny.

My next was a Westminster Dog,
From Aistrop the regular cadger;
But, sightless, I saw

He never would draw

A blind man so well as a badger.

A greyhound I got by a swop,

But, Lord! we soon came to divorces:
He treated my strip

Of cord like a slip,

And left me to go my own courses.

A poodle once towed me along,

But always we came to one harbor;
To keep his curls smart,

And shave his hind part,

He constantly called on a barber.

My next was a Newfoundland brute,

As big as a calf fit for slaughter;
But my old cataract

So truly he backed

I always fell into the water.

I once had a sheep-dog for guide,

His worth did not value a button;
I found it no go,

A Smithfield Ducrow,

To stand on four saddles of mutton.