And engages (lest Gold-foot should give us leg-bail, As he did once before) to pay down on the nail.
Or those frogs, whose legs a barbarous cook
Cut off, and left the frogs in the brook,
To cry all night, till life's last dregs,
This is all for the present-what vile pens and paper!" Give us our legs!-give us our legs!" Yours truly, dear Cousin-best love to Miss Draper.
BY THE AUTHOR OF CHRISTABEL.
"Up!" said the Spirit, and, ere I could pray
One hasty orison, whirl'd me away
To a Limbo, lying-I wist not where-
Above or below, in earth or air;
For it glimmer'd o'er with a doubtful light,
One couldn't say whether 'twas day or night;
And 'twas crost by many a mazy track,
One didn't know how to get on or back;
And I felt like a needle that's going astray
(With its one eye out) through a bundle of hay;
When the Spirit he grinn'd, and whisper'd me,
"Thou'rt now in the Court of Chancery!"
Around me flitted unnumber'd swarms
Of shapeless, bodiless, tailless forms;
(Like bottled-up babes, that grace the room
Of that worthy knight, Sir Everard Home)-
All of them, things half-kill'd in rearing;
Some were lame- -some wanted hearing;
Some had through half a century run,
Though they hadn't a leg to stand upon.
Others, more merry, as just beginning,
Around on a point of law were spinning;
Or balanc'd aloft, 'twixt Bill and Answer,
Lead at each end, like a tight-rope dancer.
Some were so cross, that nothing could please 'em;—
Some gulph'd down affidavits to ease 'em ;-
All were in motion, yet never a one,
Let it move as it might, could ever move on.
"These," said the Spirit, "you plainly see,
"Are what they call suits in Chancery !"
I heard a loud screaming of old and young,
Like a chorus by fifty Vellutis sung;
Or an Irish Dump (" the words by Moore")
At an amateur concert scream'd in score;
So harsh on my ear that wailing fell
Of the wretches who in this Limbo dwell!
It seem'd like the dismal symphony
Of the shapes Æneas in hell did see;
Touch'd with the sad and sorrowful scene,
I ask'd what all this yell might mean,
When the Spirit replied, with a grin of glee,
""Tis the cry of the Suitors in Chancery!"
I look'd, and I saw a wizard rise, 1
With a wig like a cloud before men's eyes.
In his aged hand he held a wand,
Wherewith he beckon'd his embryo band,
And they mov'd and mov'd, as he wav'd it o'er,
But they never got on one inch the more.
And still they kept limping to and fro,
Like Ariels round old Prospero—
Saying, "Dear Master, let us go,”
But still old Prospero answer'd "No."
And I heard, the while, that wizard elf
Muttering, muttering spells to himself,
While o'er as many old papers he turn'd,
As Hume e'er mov'd for, or Omar burn'd.
He talk'd of his virtue-" though some, less nice,
(He own'd with a sigh) preferr'd his Vice”—
And he said, "I think”—“I doubt”—“ I hope,"
Call'd God to witness, and damn'd the Pope;
With many more sleights of tongue and hand
I couldn't, for the soul of me, understand.
Amaz'd and pos'd, I was just about
To ask his name, when the screams without,
The merciless clack of the imps within,
And that conjuror's mutterings, made such a din,
That, startled, I woke—leap'd up in my bed—
Found the Spirit, the imps, and the conjuror fled,
And bless'd my stars, right pleas'd to see,
That I wasn't, as yet, in Chancery.
THE PETITION OF THE ORANGEMEN OF IRELAND.
To the people of England, the humble Petition
Of Ireland's disconsolate Orangemen, showing-
That sad, very sad, is our present condition;—
Our jobbing all gone, and our noble selves
going;-
That, forming one seventh, within a few fractions. Of Ireland's seven millions of hot heads and hearts,
The Lord Chancellor Eld-n.
1 To such important discussions as these the greater part of time this dispute between "ex” and “ per was going on), he Dr. Southey's Vindiciæ Ecclesiæ Anglicane is devoted.
* Consubstantiation- the true Reformed belief; at least, the belief of Luther, and, as Mosheim asserts, of Melancthon also.
found the Turks, we are told, "laughing at the Christians for being divided by two such insignificant particles."
4 The Arian controversy. - Before that time, says Hooker, "in order to be a sound believing Christian, men were not
3 When John of Ragusa went to Constantinople (at the curious what syllables or particles of speech they used."
Went Corn in his chaise through the throng, Old women and B-tt-rw-rths make just as good
Jump high, all ye Jumpers, ye Ranters all roar, While B-tt-rw-rth's spirit, uprais'd from
Like a kite made of foolscap, in glory shall soar, With a long tail of rubbish behind, to the skies!
SUNG BY THE BUBBLE SPIRIT.
Air. Come with me, and we will go Where the rocks of coral grow.
COME with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles, bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy-
-or from soap;
Bright as e'er the South Sea sent
From its frothy element!
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny W-lks,
Thou, who rhym'st so well to bilks; '
Mix the lather-who can be
Fitter for such task than thee,
Great M. P. for Sudsbury!
Now the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter, bring thy pipe,—
Thou, whom ancient Coventry
Once so dearly lov'd, that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter; —
Puff the bubbles high in air,
Puff thy best to keep them there.
Bravo, bravo, Peter M-re!
Now the rainbow humbugs3 soar,
Glitt'ring all with golden hues,
Such as haunt the dreams of Jews;—
Some, reflecting mines that lie
Under Chili's glowing sky,
Some, those virgin pearls that sleep
Cloister'd in the southern deep;
1 Strong indications of character may be sometimes traced in the rhymes to names. Marvell thought so, when he wrote
The foolish Knight who rhymes to mutton."
2 The member, during a long period, for Coventry.
3 An humble imitation of one of our modern poets, who, in a poem against War, after describing the splendid habiliments of the soldier, thus apostrophizes him—"thou rainbow ruffian!"
Others, as if lent a ray
From the streaming Milky Way, Glist'ning o'er with curds and whey From the cows of Alderney.
Now's the moment- - who shall first
Catch the bubbles, ere they burst?
Run, ye Squires, ye Viscounts, run,
Br-gd-n, T--ynh-m, P-lm—t—n ;—
John W-lks junior runs beside ye!
Take the good the knaves provide ye!+
See, with upturn'd eyes and hands,
Where the Shareman 5, Br-gd-n, stands,
Gaping for the froth to fall
Down his gullet - lye and all.
See!
But, hark, my time is out-
Now, like some great water-spout,
Scatter'd by the cannon's thunder,
Burst, ye bubbles, all asunder!
But, no- -'twas, indeed, a Turtle, wide
And plump as ever these eyes descried;
A Turtle, juicy as ever yet
Glued up the lips of a Baronet !
And much did it grieve my soul to see
That an animal of such dignity,
Like an absentee abroad should roam,
When he ought to stay and be ate at home.
But now "a change came o'er my dream,"
Like the magic lantern's shifting slider ;-
I look'd, and saw, by the evening beam,
On the back of that Turtle sat a riderA goodly man, with an eye so merry, I knew 'twas our Foreign Secretary, 1 Who there, at his ease, did sit and smile, Like Waterton on his crocodile ; 2 Cracking such jokes, at every motion,
As made the Turtle squeak with glee,
And own they gave him a lively notion
Of what his forc'd-meat balls would be.
So, on the Sec. in his glory went,
Over that briny element,
Waving his hand, as he took farewell,
With graceful air, and bidding me tell
Inquiring friends that the Turtle and he
Were gone on a foreign embassy-
To soften the heart of a Diplomate,
Who is known to doat upon verdant fat,
And to let admiring Europe see,
That calipash and calipee
Are the English forms of Diplomacy.
THE DONKY AND HIS PANNIERS.
"fessus jam sudat asellus,
"Parce illi; vestrum delicium est asinus."
A DONKY, whose talent for burdens was wondrous. So much that you'd swear he rejoic'd in a load, One day had to jog under panniers so pond'rous, That-down the poor Donky fell smack on the road!
His owners and drivers stood round in amazeWhat! Neddy, the patient, the prosperous Neddy,
2 Wanderings in South America. "It was the first and last time (says Mr. Waterton) I was ever on a crocodile's back."
3 Alluding to an early poem of Mr. Coleridge's, addressed to an Ass, and beginning, I hail thee, brother!"
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