The Crystal Palace
Here come likewise

Her bould allies,
Both Asian and Europian;
From East and West
They send their best
To fill her Coornucopean.

I seen (thank Grace!)
This wondthrous place
(His Noble Honour Misther
H. Cole it was

That gave the pass,

And let me see what is there).

With conscious proide

I stud insoide

And look'd the World's Great Fair in,
Until me sight

Was dazzled quite,

And couldn't see for staring.

There's holy saints And window paints, By maydiayval Pugin; Alhamborough Jones

Did paint the tones,

Of yellow and gambouge in.

There's fountains there

And crosses fair;
There's water-gods with urrns;
There's organs three,

To play, d'ye see,
"God save the Queen," by turrns.

There's statues bright

Of marble white,

Of silver, and of copper;

And some in zinc,

And some, I think,

That isn't over proper.

549

There's staym injynes, That stands in lines, Enormous and amazing, That squeal and snort Like whales in sport, Or elephants a-grazing.

There's carts and gigs,

And pins for pigs,

There's dibblers and there's harrows,

And ploughs like toys

For little boys,

And illigant wheelbarrows.

For thim genteels

Who ride on wheels, There's plenty to indulge 'em:

There's droskys snug

From Paytersbug,

And vayhycles from Bulgium.

There's cabs on stands
And shandthrydanns;

There's wagons from New York here;
There's Lapland sleighs

Have cross'd the seas,

And jaunting cyars from Cork here.

Amazed I pass

From glass to glass,
Deloighted I survey 'em;
Fresh wondthers grows

Before me nose
In this sublime Musayum!

Look, here's a fan

From far Japan,

A sabre from Damasco:

There's shawls ye get

From far Thibet,

And cotton prints from Glasgow.

THE WOFLE NEW BALLAD OF JANE RONEY AND MARY BROWN

AN igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek—

I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak,

Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I

see,

Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin' of she.

This Mary was pore and in misery once,

And she came to Mrs. Roney it's more than twelve monce
She adn't got no bed, nor no dinner, nor no tea,
And kind Mrs. Roney gave Mary all three.

Mrs. Roney kep Mary for ever so many veeks
(Her conduct disgusted the best of all Beax),
She kept her for nothink, as kind as could be,
Never thinking that this Mary was a traitor to she.

"Mrs. Roney, O Mrs. Roney, I feel very ill;

Will you jest step to the doctor's for to fetch me a pill?” "That I will, my pore Mary," Mrs. Roney says she: And she goes off to the doctor's as quickly as may be.

No sooner on this message Mrs. Roney was sped,
Than hup gits vicked Mary, and jumps out a bed;
She hopens all the trunks without never a key-
She bustes all the boxes, and vith them makes free.

Mrs. Roney's best linning gownds, petticoats, and close,
Her children's little coats and things, her boots and her hose,
She packed them, and she stole 'em, and avay vith them did

flee

Mrs. Roney's situation-you may think vat it vould be!

Of Mary, ungrateful, who had served her this vay,
Mrs. Roney heard nothink for a long year and a day,
Till last Thursday, in Lambeth, ven whom should she see?
But this Mary, as had acted so ungrateful to she.

Ballad of Jane Roney and Mary Brown 553

She was leaning on the helbo of a worthy young man; They were going to be married, and were walkin hand in hand;

And the church-bells was a ringing for Mary and he,

And the parson was ready, and a waitin' for his fee.

When up comes Mrs. Roney, and faces Mary Brown,
Who trembles, and castes her eyes upon the ground.
She calls a jolly pleaseman, it happens to be me;
I charge this young woman, Mr. Pleaseman, says she.

Mrs. Roney, o, Mrs. Roney, o, do let me go,

I acted most ungrateful I own, and I know,

But the marriage bell is ringin, and the ring you may see, And this young man is a waitin, says Mary, says she.

I don't care three fardens for the parson and clark,

And the bell may keep ringing from noon day to dark.
Mary Brown, Mary Brown, you must come along with me.
And I think this young man is lucky to be free.

So, in spite of the tears which bejewed Mary's cheek,

I took that young gurl to A'Beckett the Beak;

That exlent justice demanded her plea-
But never a sullable said Mary said she.

On account of her conduck so base and so vile,
That wicked young gurl is committed for trile,
And if she's transpawted beyond the salt sea,
It's a proper reward for such willians as she.

Now, you young gurls of Southwark for Mary who veep, From pickin and stealin your ands you must keep,

Or it may be my dooty, as it was Thursday veek

To pull you all hup to A'Beckett the Beak.

W. M. Thackeray.