Hail, blest Confusion! here are met The Brahmin talks of races; And where's your genius, bright Corinne ? Lo! dandies from Kamschatka flirt The Commandant from Seville; O sweet Anne Page !—those dancing eyes Have peril in their splendour! "O sweet Anne Page!"'-so Slender sighs, And what am I, but slender? Alas! when next your spells engage So fond and starved a sinner, My pretty Page, be Shakspeare's Page, And ask the fool to dinner! What mean those laughing Nuns, I pray, What mean they, nun or fairy? From mass and matins, priest and pix, I wish all pretty Catholics Were thus emancipated! Four Seasons come to dance quadrilles Fair Cleopatra's very plain; Puck halts, and Ariel swaggers; And Psyche's nose is broken. Our happiest bride-how very odd!- And the heaviest foot that ever trod Is the foot of Cinderella ; Here sad Calista laughs outright, And what a Babel is the talk! "The Giraffe ". །། "plays the fiddle ". "Macadam's roads "- "I hate this chalk!" "Sweet girl"-" a charming riddle ❞— "I'm nearly drunk with "—"Epsom salts ""Yes, separate beds "-" such cronies! "Good Heaven! who taught that man to waltz ?"— "A pair of Shetland ponies." "Lord Nugent"-"an enchanting shape " 66 "Will move for "-" Maraschino " 'Pray, Julia, how's your mother's ape?". "He died at Navarino!" "The gout, by Jove, is "-" apple pie " "Don Miguel "—"Tom the tinker ". "His Lordship's pedigree's as high As"-"Whipcord, dam by Clinker.” "Love's shafts are weak "-" my chestnut kicks". "Heart broken "-"broke the traces"— "What say you now of politics?”– "Change sides and to your places.”"A five barred-gate"-"a precious pearl ""Grave things may all be punned on !”— "The Whigs, thank Heaven, are"-"out of curl !". "Her age is "—"four by London!" Thus run the giddy hours away, Till morning's light is beaming,. We dress in fancies quite as strange (1828.) A LETTER OF ADVICE FROM MISS MEDORA TREVILIAN, AT PADUA, TO MISS ARAMINTA VAVASOUR, IN LONDON. "Enfin, monsieur, un homme aimable; Voilà pourquoi je ne saurais l'aimer."-SCRIBE. You tell me you're promised a lover, The hue of his coat and his cheek? Alas! if he look like another, A vicar, a banker, a beau, Be deaf to your father and mother, Miss Lane, at her Temple of Fashion, And we loved one another with passion, Before we had been there a week: You gave me a ring for a token; |