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Thou little tricksy Puck! With antic toys so funnily bestuck, Light as the singing bird that wings the air — (The door! the door! he ʼll tumble down the stair!)

Thou darling of thy sire !
(Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore afire !)

Thou imp of mirth and joy!
In Love's dear chain so strong and bright a link,
Thou idol of thy parents — (Drat the boy!

· There goes my ink !)

Thou cherub — but of earth ;
Fit playfellow for Fays, by moonlight pale,

In harmless sport and mirth,
(That dog will bite him if he pulls its tail !)

Thou human humming-bee, extracting honey From every blossom in the world that blows,

Singing in youth’s elysium ever sunny, (Another tumble! — that's his precious nose !)

Thy father's pride and hope ! (He 'll break the mirror with that skipping-rope !) With pure heart newly stamped from Nature's mint(Where did he learn that squint ?)

Thou young domestic dove !
(He'll have that jug off, with another shove !)

Dear nursling of the Hymeneal nest !
(Are those torn clothes his best ?)

Little epitome of man! (He'll climb upon the table, that's his plan!) Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning life —

(He's got a knife !)

Thou enviable being !
No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing,

Play on, play on,

My elfin John! Toss the light ball — bestride the stick (I knew so many cakes would make him sick !) With fancies, buoyant as the thistle-down, Prompting the face grotesque, and antic brisk,

With many a lamb-like frisk, (He's got the scissors, snipping at your gown!)

Thou pretty opening rose ! (Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose !) Balmy and breathing music like the South, (He really brings my heart into my mouth!) Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star, (I wish that window had an iron bar !) Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove,

(I 'll tell you what, my love, I cannot write, unless he's sent above !)

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IV.

A SERENADE.
“LULLABY, 0, lullaby!
Thus I heard a father cry,

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
The brat will never shut an eye;
Hither come, some power divine!
Close his lids, or open mine!”

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
What the devil makes him cry?

Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
Still he stares — I wonder why,
Why are not the sons of earth
Blind, like puppies, from the birth ?

"Lullaby, 0, lullaby!”
Thus I heard the father cry;

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby !
Mary, you must come and try!-
Hush, 0, hush, for mercy's sake –
The more I sing, the more you wake!”

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
fie, you little creature, fie!

Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
Is no poppy-syrup nigh?
Give him some, or give him all,
I am nodding to his fall!”

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby! '
Two such nights and I shall die !

Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
He 'll be bruised, and so shall I, -
How can I from bed-posts keep,
When I'nı walking in my sleep!”

“Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
Sleep his very looks deny -

Lullaby, 0, lullaby!
Nature soon will stupefy —
My nerves relax,- my eyes grow dim —
Who's that fallen — me or him?

A PLAIN DIRECTION.

“Do you never deviate ?” – John BULL. In London once I lost my way in faring to and fro, And asked a little ragged boy the way that I should go; He gave a nod, and then a wink, and told me to get there “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square."

I boxed his little saucy ears, and then away I strode ;
But since I've found that weary path is quite a common road.
Utopia is a pleasant place, but how shall I get there?
“Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.”.
I've read about a famous town that drove a famous trade,
Where Whittington walked upand found a fortune ready made.
The very streets are paved with gold; but how shall I get

there? "Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.” I've read about a Fairy Land, in some romantic tale, Where dwarfs if good are sure to thrive and wicked giants fail; My wish is great, my shoes are strong, but how shall I get

there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.” I've heard about some happy isle, where every man is free, And none can lie in bonds for life for want of L. S. D. 0! that's the land of Liberty ! but how shall I get there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.” I've dreamt about some blessed spot, beneath the blessed sky, Where bread and justice never rise too dear for folks to buy. It's cheaper than the Ward of Cheap, but how shall I get

there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.” They say there is an ancient house, as pure as it is old, Where members always speak their minds, and votes are

never sold. I'm fond of all antiquities, but how shall I get there? "Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square." They say there is a royal court maintained in noble state, Where every able man, and good, is certain to be great ! I'm very fond of seeing sights, but how shall I get there? 16 Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.”

They say there is a temple too, where Christians come to pray; But canting knaves and hypocrites and bigots keep away. 0! that's the parish church for me! but how shall I get there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square." They say there is a garden fair, that's haunted by the dove, Where love of gold doth ne'er eclipse the golden light of love; The place must be a Paradise, but how shall I get there ? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square." I've heard there is a famous land for public spirit known Whose patriots love its interests much better than their own. The Land of Promise sure it is! but how shall I get there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square." I've read about a fine estate, a mansion large and strong; A view all over Kent and back, and going for a song. George Robins knows the very spot, but how shall I get there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.” I've heard there is a company all formal and enrolled, Will take your smallest silver coin and give it back in gold. Of course the office-door is mobbed, but how shall I get there ! “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square." I've heard about a pleasant land, where omelettes grow on trees, And roasted pigs run crying out, “Come eat me, if you

please.” My appetite is rather keen, but how shall I get there? “Straight down the Crooked Lane, and all round the Square.”

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EQUESTRIAN COURTSHIP.
It was a young maiden went forth to ride,
And there was a wooer to pace by her side ;
His horse was so little, and hers so high,
He thought his angel was up in the sky.

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