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Be that as it may, the very first day

That the widow Gengulphus sat down on that settee, What occurr'd almost frighten'd her senses away,

Beside scaring her hand-maidens, Gertrude and Betty.

They were telling their mistress the wonderful deeds

Of the new Saint, to whom all the Town said their orisons; And especially how, as regards invalids,

His miraculous cures far outrivall'd Von Morison's.

"The cripples," said they, "fling their crutches away, And people born blind now can easily see us!”— But she, (we presume, a disciple of Hume,)

Shook her head, and said angrily, "Credat Judæus !"

"Those rascally liars, the Monks and the Friars,

To bring grist to their mill, these devices have hit on.He works miracles !-pooh !-I'd believe it of you

Just as soon, you great Geese, or the chair that I sit on!"

The Chair!-at that word-it seems really absurd,

But the truth must be told,—what contortions and grins Distorted her face! She sprang up from the place

Just as though she 'd been sitting on needles and pins!

For, as if the Saint's beard the rash challenge had heard Which she utter'd, of what was beneath her forgetful, Each particular hair stood on end in the chair,

Like a porcupine's quills when the animal's fretful.

That stout maroon leather, they pierced altogether,
Like tenter-hooks holding when clenched from within,
And the maids cried "Good gracious! how very tenaci-
ous!"_

-They as well might endeavour to pull off her skin!

She shriek'd with the pain, but all efforts were vain ;

In vain did they strain every sinew and muscle,— The cushion stuck fast! From that hour to her last

She could never get rid of that comfortless "Bustle!"

And e'en as Macbeth, when devising the death

Of his King, heard "the very stones prate of his whereabouts ;"

So this shocking bad wife heard a voice all her life

Crying "Murder!" resound from the cushion,- or

thereabouts.

With regard to the Clerk, we are left in the dark,
As to what his fate was; but I cannot imagine he

Got off scot-free, though unnoticed it be

Both by Ribadaneira and Jacques de Voragine :

pen holds,

For cut-throats, we 're sure, can be never secure, And " History's Muse" still to prove it her 'll see, if you look in a rather scarce book, "God's Revenge against Murder," by one Mr. Reynolds.

As you

MORAL.

Now, you grave married Pilgrims, who wander away,
Like Ulysses of old,* (vide Homer and Naso,)
Don't lengthen your stay to three years and a day!
And when you are coming home, just write and say so!

And you, learned Clerks, who're not given to roam, Stick close to your books, nor lose sight of decorum ; Don't visit a house when the master's from home! Shun drinking, and study the "Vita Sanctorum!"

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* Qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes.

Above all, you gay Ladies, who fancy neglect.

In your spouses, allow not your patience to fail; But remember Gengulphus's wife!-and reflect On the moral enforced by her terrible tale!

MR. BARNEY MAGUIRE has laid claim to the next Saint as a countrywoman; and " Why wouldn't he? when all the world knows the O'Dells were a fine ould ancient family sated in Tipperary,

"When Malachi wore his collar of gowld!"

He is manifestly wrong; but, as he very rationally observes, "No matter for that, she's a Saint any

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way!"

251

THE LAY OF ST. ODILLE.

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DILLE was a maid of a dignified race;

Her father, Count Otto, was lord of Alsace;
Such an air, such a grace,

Such a form, such a face,

All agreed 'twere a fruitless endeavour to trace
In the Court, or within fifty miles of the place.
Many ladies in Strasburg were beautiful, still
They were beat all to sticks by the lovely Odille.

But Odille was devout, and, before she was nine,
Had "experienced a call" she consider'd divine,
To put on the veil at St. Ermengarde's shrine.-
Lords, Dukes, and Electors, and Counts Palatine
Came to seek her in marriage from both sides the Rhine;
But vain their design,

They are all left to pine,

Their oglings and smiles are all useless; in fine,
Not one of these gentlefolks, try as they will,
Can draw "Ask my papa" from the cruel Odille.

At length one of her suitors, a certain Count Herman, A highly respectable man as a German,

Who smoked like a chimney, and drank like a merman, Paid his court to her father, conceiving his firman Would soon make her bend,

And induce her to lend

An ear to a love-tale in lieu of a sermon.

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