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Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs.
Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash,
Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep,
But frightened by Policeman B. 3, flee,
And while they 're going, whisper low, “ No go !”

Now puss, while folks are in their beds, treads

leads, And sleepers' waking, grumble — “ Drat that

cat !” Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will.

Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise
In childish dreams, and with a roar gore poor
Georgy, or Charley, or Billy, willy-nilly ; -
But Nursemaid in a nightmare rest, chest-pressed,
Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games,
And that she hears — what faith is man's —

Ann's banns
And his, from Reverend Mr. Rice, twice, thrice :
White ribbons flourish, and a stout shout out,
That upward goes, shows Rose knows those bows'

woes !

DOMESTIC ASIDES; OR, TRUTH IN PAREN

THESES.

“I REALLY take it very kind,
This visit, Mrs. Skinner !
I have not seen you such an age -
(The wretch has come to dinner !)

“ Your daughters, too, what loves of girls —
What heads for painters' easels !
Come here and kiss the infant, dears, –
(And give it p'r'aps the measles !)

“ Your charming boys I see are home
From Reverend Mr. Russell's ;
'Twas very kind to bring them both, –
(What boots for my new Brussels !)

“ What! little Clara left at home?
Well now I call that shabby :
I should have loved to kiss her so, -
(A flabby, dabby, babby !)

“ And Mr. S., I hope he’s well,
Ah! though he lives so handy,

He never now drops in to sup,
(The better for our brandy!)

“ Come, take a seat — I long to hear
About Matilda's marriage ;
You ’re come of course to spend the day! -
(Thank Heaven, I hear the carriage !)

“ What! must you go? next time I hope
You'll give me longer measure ;
Nay – I shall see you down the stairs -
(With most uncommon pleasure !)

“Good-bye! good-bye ! remember all,
Next time you 'll take your dinners !
(Now, David, mind I'm not at home
In future to the Skinners !")

EPIGRAMS.

COMPOSED ON READING A DIARY LATELY PUB

LISHED.

That flesh is grass is now as clear as day,
To any but the merest purblind pup,
Death cuts it down, and then, to make her hay,
My Lady Bury comes and rakes it up.

ALBUM

THE LAST WISH.

When I resign this world so briary,
To have across the Styx my ferrying,
O, may I die without a DIARY !
And be interred without a Bury-ing !

The poor dear dead have been laid out in vain, Turned into cash, they are laid out again!

THE DEVIL'S ALBUM.

It will seem an odd whim

For a Spirit so grim
As the Devil to take a delight in;

But by common renown

He has come up to town,
With an Album for people to write in !

On a handsomer book

Mortal never did look,
Of a flame-colour silk is the binding,

With a border superb,

Where through flow'ret and herb,
The old Serpent goes brilliantly winding !

VOL. III.

By gilded grotesques,

And embossed arabesques,
The whole cover, in fact, is pervaded ;

But, alas ! in a taste

That betrays they were traced At the will of a Spirit degraded !

As for paper — the best,

But extremely hot-pressed, Courts the pen to luxuriate upon it,

And against every blank

There's a note on the Bank, As a bribe for a sketch or a sonnet.

Who will care to appear

In the Fiend's Souvenir,
Is a question to morals most vital ;

But the very first leaf,

It's the public belief,
Will be filled by a Lady of Title !

EPIGRAM.

THE SUPERIORITY OF MACHINERY,

A Mechanic his labor will often discard :

If the rate of his pay he dislikes ; But a clock — and its case is uncommonly hard

Will continue to work though it strikes.

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