And Medler's feet repose, unscanned,
Beneath the wide Atlantic.

Wild Nick, whose oaths made such a din, Does Dr. Martext's duty;

And Mullion, with that monstrous chin,

Is married to a beauty;

And Darrel studies, week by week,
His Mant, and not his Manton;
And Ball, who was but poor at Greek,
Is very rich at Canton.

And I am eight-and-twenty now

The world's cold chains have bound me;

And darker shades are on my brow,

And sadder scenes around me:

In Parliament I fill my seat,

With many other noodles;

And lay my head in Jermyn-street,
And sip my hock at Boodle's.

But often, when the cares of life
Have set my temples aching,
When visions haunt me of a wife,
When duns await my waking,
When Lady Jane is in a pet,
Or Hoby in a hurry,

When Captain Hazard wins a bet,

Or Beaulieu spoils a curry:

For hours and hours I think and talk
Of each remembered hobby;
I long to lounge in Poet's Walk-
To shiver in the lobby;

I wish that I could run away

From house, and court, and levee, Where bearded men appear to-day, Just Eton boys, grown heavy;

That I could bask in childhood's sun,
And dance o'er childhood's roses;
And find huge wealth in one pound one,
Vast wit in broken noses;

And play Sir Giles at Datchet Lane,
And call the milkmaids houris;

That I could be a boy again—
A happy boy at Drury's!

(1829.)

"WE want"-the Duchess said to me to-day,'We want, fair sir, a prologue for our play. A charming play to show a charming robe in, 'The Honeymoon' "By Phoebus!"—" No: by Tobin."

“A prologue!”--I made answer--"if you need

one,

In every street and square your Grace may re. 1 one."

“Cruel papa! don't talk about Sir Harry!”— So Araminta lisped;--"I'll never marry; I loathe all men; such unromantic creatures! The coarsest tastes, and, ah! the coarsest features!

Betty! the salts!-I'm sick with mere vexa

tion,

To hear them called the Lords of the Creation: They swear fierce oaths, they seldom say their prayers;

And then, they shed no tears,-unfeeling bears! VOL. II.-15

I, and the friend I share my sorrows with,
Medora Gertrude Wilhelmina Smith,

Will weep together through the world's disasters,

In some green vale, unplagued by Lords and
Masters,

And hand in hand repose at last in death,
As chaste and cold as Queen Elizabeth.”
She spoke in May, and people found in June,
This was her Prologue to the Honeymoon!

"Frederic is poor, I own it," Fanny sighs, "But then he loves me, and has deep blue eyes. Since I was nine years old, and he eleven,

We've loved each other, 'Love is light from
Heaven!'

And penury with love, I will not doubt it,
Is better far than palaces without it.
We'll have a quiet curacy in Kent;

We'll keep a cow; and we'll be so content!
Forgetting that my father drove fine horses,
And that my mother dined upon three courses,
There I shall sit, perusing Frederic's verses,
Dancing in spring, in winter knitting purses;
Mending the children's pinafores and frills,
Wreathing sweet flowers, and paying butcher's
bills."

Alas, poor Fanny! she will find too soon
Her Prologue's better than her Honeymoon,

But, lo! where Laura, with a frenzied air,
Seeks her kind cousin in her pony chair,
And in a mournful voice, by thick sobs broken,
Cries "Yes, dear Anne! the favours are be-
spoken;

I am to have him;-so my friends decided;
The stars knew quite as much of it as I did!
You know him, love;-he is so like a mum-

my;-

I wonder whether diamonds will become me!

He talks of nothing but the price of stocks;
However, I'm to have my opera box.

That pert thing, Ellen, thought she could secure him,

I wish she had, I'm sure I can't endure him! The cakes are ordered;-how my lips will falter

When I stand fainting at the marriage altar! But I'm to have him! Oh, the vile baboon!" Strange Prologue this for Laura's Honeymoon!

Enough of Prologues; surely I should say
One word, before I go, about the play.
Instead of hurrying madly after marriage
To some lord's villa in a travelling carriage,
Instead of seeking earth's remotest ends

To hide their blushes and avoid their friends,
Instead of haunting lonely lanes and brooks
With no companions but the doves and rooks,——