From attorney to sweep, from physician to pavior, To drink of cold water at sixpence a glass,

And learn true politeness and genteel behavior. Though the crowd was immense till the hour of de

parture,

No gentleman's feelings were hurt in the rush,

Save a grocer's, who lost his proof-glass and bung-starter, And a chimney-sweep's, robbed of his scraper and

brush.

They lingered till sunset and twilight had come,

When, wearied in limb, but much polished in man

ners,

The sovereign people moved gracefully home,

In the beauty and pride of "an army with banners." As to politics-Adams 16 and Clinton yet live,

And reign, we presume, as we never have missed 'em, And woollens and Webster continue to thrive

Under something they call the American System, If you're anxious to know what the country is doing, Whether ruined already or going to ruin,

And who her next President will be, please Heaven, Read the letters of Jackson, the speeches of Clay, All the party newspapers, three columns a day,

And Blunt's Annual Register," year 'twenty-seven.

FANNY.

"A fairy vision

Of some gay creatures of the element,

That in the colors of the rainbow live, And play in the plighted clouds."

MILTON.

JANNY was younger once than she is now, And prettier of course; I do not mean To say that there are wrinkles on her brow; Yet, to be candid, she is past eighteenPerhaps past twenty-but the girl is shy About her age, and Heaven forbid that I

II.

Should get myself in trouble by revealing
A secret of this sort; I have too long
Loved pretty women with a poet's feeling,

And when a boy, in day-dream and in song, Have knelt me down and worshipped them: alas! They never thanked me for't-but let that pass.

III.

I've felt full many a heartache in my day,
At the mere rustling of a muslin gown,
And caught some dreadful colds, I blush to say,
While shivering in the shade of beauty's frown.
They say her smiles are sunbeams-it may be-
But never a sunbeam would she throw on me.

IV.

But Fanny's is an eye that you may gaze on
For half an hour, without the slightest harm;
E'en when she wore her smiling summer face on

There was but little danger, and the charm

That youth and wealth once gave, has bade farewell : Hers is a sad, sad tale-'tis mine its woes to tell.

V.

Her father kept, some fifteen years ago,

A retail dry-good shop in Chatham Street,
And nursed his little earnings, sure though slow,
Till, having mustered wherewithal to meet

The gaze of the great world, he breathed the air
Of Pearl Street-and "set up" in Hanover Square.

VI.

Money is power, 'tis said-I never tried ;

I'm but a poet--and bank-notes to me