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We'll sleep through all its serious hours,

And laugh through all its silly. Be mine such motley scene as this,

Where, by established usance, Miss Gravity is quite amiss,

And Madam Sense a nuisance!

Hail, blest Confusion! here are met
All tongues, and times, and faces;
The Lancers flirt with Juliet,

The Brahmin talks of races;

And where's your genius, bright Corinne?
And where your brogue, Sir Lucius ?·
And, Chinca Ti, you have not seen
One chapter of Confucius.

Lo! dandies from Kamtschatka flirt
With beauties from the Wrekin;
And belles from Berne look very pert
On Mandarins from Pekin;
The Cardinal is here from Rome,
The Commandant from Seville,
And Hamlet's father from the tomb,
And Faustus from the Devil.

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?
I guess they told no beads to-day,
And sang no Ave Mary ;

From Mass and Matins, Priest and Pix,
Barred door, and window grated,
I wish all pretty Catholics

Were thus emancipated.

Four Seasons come to dance quadrilles
With four well-seasoned sailors;
And Raleigh talks of railroad bills
With Timon, prince of railers;
I find Sir Charles, of Aubyn Park,
Equipped for a walk to Mecca ;
And I run away from Joan of Arc,
To romp with sad Rebecca.

Fair Cleopatra's very plain,

Puck halts, and Ariel swaggers;
And Cæsar's murdered o'er again,
Though not by Roman daggers;
Great Charlemagne is four feet high,
Sad stuff has Bacon spoken,
Queen Mary's waist is all awry,

And Psyche's nose is broken.

Our happiest bride,—how very odd !—
Is the mourning Isabella ;

And the heaviest foot that ever trod
Is the foot of Cinderella;
Here sad Calista laughs outright,
There Yorick looks most grave, Sir,
And a Templar waves the cross to-night,
Who never crossed the wave, Sir.

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."

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“Lord Nugent ”—“ an enchanting shape ". "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."

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"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

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"Her age is ""four by London !"

Thus run the giddy hours away,
Till morning's light is beaming,
And we must go to dream by day
All we to-night are dreaming;
To smile and sigh, to love and change,
Oh! in our heart's recesses,

We dress in fancies quite as strange
As these, our fancy-dresses.

(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,
My own Araminta, next week;
Why cannot my fancy discover

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,
My own Araminta, say "No!"

Miss Lane, at her Temple of Fashion,
Taught us both how to sing and to speak,
And we loved one another with passion
Before we had been there a week;
You gave me a ring for a token,

I wear it wherever I go;

I gave you a chain-is it broken?
My own Araminta, say "No!"

Oh! think of our favourite cottage,
And think of our dear Lalla Rookh;
VOL. II.-13

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