WANTED, A SINGER.

H! sing me a song of the wild, wide sea,
Of the peril of rocks and storms-

How mariners bold as bold can be
Face Death in a hundred forms.
Methinks whenever I hear you sing-
That I rather should relish that kind
of thing.

Nay, fashion the verse to a knightly

strain,

And sing of some warlike band;

Of chivalry seeking a battle-plain

And perishing sword in hand.

I feel whenever I hear you sing

So decided a taste for that kind of thing.

But can you not carol a heart-felt lay,
On the pleasures and pains of love--
A melody soft as a breeze in May,

And pure as the skies above?

I think whenever I hear you sing

That there may be a charm in that kind of thing.

Come, chirrup me gaily a drinking-stave,

Of the bowl and its deep delights

A hymn to old BACCHUS, the god that gave
Such mirth to our festive nights.

But stop-why trouble yourself to sing,

As I know I am good at that kind of thing?

ANTICIPATIONS.

I

AM thirty to-day, and my health
Will be drunk at our family party,

Where prophecies touching my wealth

And my fame will be fluent and hearty. Then Fancy, excited by themes

That are born of the wine and the dinner,

May bring back belief in the dreams

That I dream'd as a hopeful beginner.

Ah! my ballads, my songs, how I've yearn'd
For the time to collect you and edit
A book that perhaps would have earn'd,
Not a name, but a quantum of credit.
I'd christen it "Sweets for the Sweet,"

Or "The Lyrics and Lays of a Lover ;
And Simmonds's Poems Complete,

Should be printed in gold on the cover.

I have long'd for the pleasures that gold Can procure-and I freely confess it : (For avarice grows, we are told,

As the ipsa pecunia crescit.) If I had but a fortune-oh, then

I could finish my course pretty gaily, With lots of the cleverest men

In my circle to dine with me daily.

I should give up my bachelor life

When I met with a girl to adore me :

With riches and fame and a wife,

What a path would be open before me!

My bliss would be trebly secure,

And my future unclouded and sunny. She'd love me for love, I am sure:

And, if not, she could love me for money!

THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.

HAVE a friend in Eaton Place

A very wealthy man

Whose house is one I love to grace

As often as I can.

His meats are always of the best,

His wines are rich and rare

A footman, elegantly drest,

Keeps watch behind my chair.

I like the meats-I love the wine-
(For, give me leave to say,
'Tis very seldom that I dine

In that expensive way.)

K