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Moria pur quando vuol, non è bisogna mutar ni faccia ni voce per esser un Angelo.*

DIE when you will, you need not wear
At Heaven's Court a form more fair
Than Beauty here on earth has given;
Keep but the lovely looks we see—
The voice we hear-and you will be

An angel ready-made for Heaven!

The learned

Irish Bed of Roses, like Lord CASTLEREAGH'S. Clerk next favours us with some remarks upon a well-known punning epitaph on fair Rosamond, and expresses a most loyal hope, that, if "Rosa munda” mean a Rose with clean hands," it may be found applicable to the Right Honourable Rose in question. He then dwells at some length upon the "Rosa aurea," which, though descriptive, in one sense, of the old Treasury Statesman, yet, as being consecrated and worn by the POPE, must of course, not be brought into the same atmosphere with him. Lastly, in reference to the words "old Rose," he winds up with the pathetic lamentation of the Poet, "consenuisse Rosas." The whole note, indeed, shows a knowledge of Roses that is quite edifying.

*The words addressed by Lord Herbert of Cherbury to the beautiful Nun at Murano.-See his Life.

IMPROMPTU.

Upon being obliged to leave a pleasant party, from the want of a pair of Breeches to dress for

Dinner in.

1810.

BETWEEN Adam and me the great difference is,

Though a Paradise each has been forced to resign, That he never wore breeches till turn'd out of his, While, for want of my breeches, I'm banish'd from mine.

WHAT'S MY THOUGHT LIKE?

Quest.-WHY is a Pump like Viscount C-STL-R-GH?
Answ. Because it is a slender thing of wood,
That up
and down its awkward arm doth sway,
And coolly spout, and spout, and spout away,
In one weak, washy, everlasting flood!

EPIGRAM.*

WHAT news to-day?" Oh! worse and worse-
"M-c is the PR-E'S Privy Purse!"
The PR--E's Purse! no, no, you fool,
You mean the PR--E'S Ridicule!

EPIGRAM.

Dialogue between a Catholic Delegate and his R-y-l H-ghn-ss the D-ke of C-mb-rl-nd.

SAID his Highness to NED, with that grim face of his, "Why refuse us the Veto, dear Catholic NEDDY?""Because, Sir," said NED, looking full in his phiz, "You're forbidding enough, in all conscience, al ready!"

* This is a bon-mot, attributed, I know not how truly, to the PR-NC-SS of W-L-s. I have merely versified it.

EPIGRAM.

Dialogue between a Dowager and her Maid on the Night of Lord Y-rm-th's Féte.

"I WANT the Court-Guide," said my Lady, "to look "If the House, Seymour Place, be at 30 or 20""We've lost the Court-Guide, Ma'am, but here's the Red Book,

"Where you'll find, I dare say, Seymour PLACES in plenty !"

EPIGRAM.

From the French.

"I NEVER give a kiss," says Prue,

"To naughty man, for I abhor it."

She will not give a kiss, 'tis true—

She'll take one, though, and thank you for it.

ON A SQUINTING POETESS.

To no one Muse does she her glance confine,
But has an eye, at once, to all the Nine!

THE TORCH OF LIBERTY.

I saw it all in Fancy's glass-
Herself the fair, the wild magician,
That bid this splendid day-dream pass,
And named each gliding apparition.

'Twas like a torch-race-such as they
Of Greece perform'd, in ages gone,
When the fleet youths, in long array,
Pass'd the bright torch triumphant on.

I saw th' expectant nations stand

To catch the coming flame in turnI saw, from ready hand to hand,

The clear, but struggling glory burn.

And, oh! their joy, as it came near,
"Twas in itself a joy to see-
While Fancy whisper'd in my ear,
"That torch they pass is Liberty!"

And each, as she received the flame,
Lighted her altar with its ray,