Tell him to send me down that song
He said he loved the best of any,—
Tell him I'm sure I can't live long,-
And-bid him love me,-won't you, Fanny?

AN INVITATION.

"If she be not fair to me,

What care I how fair she be."-SUCKLING.

WHEREFORE, Fanny, look so lovely,
In your anger, in your glee?
Laughing, weeping, fair, capricious!
If you will look so delicious,
Prythee, look at me!

Wherefore, Fanny, sing so sweetly,
Like the bird upon the tree,—
Hearts in dozens round you bringing?
Siren! if you must be singing,
Prythee, sing to me!

Wherefore, Fanny, dance so lightly,
Like the wave upon the sea?
Motion every charm enhancing;
Fanny, if you will be dancing,
Prythee, dance with me!

Wherefore smile so like an angel,
Angel-like although you be?
Head and heart at once beguiling,—
Dearest ! if you will be smiling,

Prythee, smile on me!

Wherefore flirt, and aim your arrows
At each harmless fop you see?
Coxcombs, hardly worth the hurting ;
Tyrant! if you must be flirting,
Prythee, flirt with me!

Wherefore, Fanny, kiss and fondle
Half the ugly brats you see?
Waste not love among so many ;—
Sweetest! if you fondle any,
Prythee, fondle me!

Wherefore wedlock's lottery enter?
Chances for you, one to three !
Richest ventures oft miscarry,
Fanny, Fanny, if you marry,
Prythee, marry me !

A DISCOURSE DELIVERED BY A COLLEGE

TUTOR,

AT A SUPPER PARTY, JULY IST, 1825.

YE dons and ye doctors, ye provosts and proctors,
Who are paid to monopolise knowledge,
Come make opposition, by vote and petition,
To the radical infidel college;

Come put forth your powers, in aid of the towers
Which boast of their bishops and martyrs ;
And arm all the terrors of privileged errors
Which live by the wax of their charters.

Let Mackintosh battle with Canning and V-,
Let Brougham be a friend to the niggers,
Burdett cure the nation's misrepresentations,
And Hume make a figure in figures;

But let them not babble of Greek to the rabble,
Nor teach the mechanics their letters;
The labouring classes were born to be asses,
And not to be aping their betters.

'Tis a terrible crisis for Cam and for Isis,
Fat butchers are learning dissection;

And looking-glass makers become Sabbath breakers,
To study the laws of reflection;

Sin and sin 0, no sin can be sweeter,
Are taught to the poor of both sexes,

And weavers and spinners jump up from their dinners
To flirt with their y's and their x's.

Chuck farthing advances the doctrine of chances
In spite of the staff of the beadle;

And menders of breeches between the long stitches
Write books on the laws of the needle;

And chandlers all chatter of luminous matter,
Who communicate none to their tallows;
And rogues gets a notion of the pendulum's motion
Which is only of use at the gallows.

The impurest of Attics read pure mathematics,
The gin-shops are turned into cloisters;

A Crawford next summer will fill up your rummer,
A Copleston open your oysters;

The bells of Old Bailey are practising gaily
The erudite tunes of St. Mary's;

The Minories any day will rear you a Kennedy,

And Bishopsgate blossom with Airy's.

The nature of granites, the tricks of the planets,
The forces of steam and of gases,

The engines mechanical, the long words botanical,
The ranging of beetles in classes,

The delicate junctions of symbols and functions,
The impossible roots of equations,

Are these proper questions for Cockney digestions,
Fit food for a cit's lucubrations?

The eloquent pages of time-hallowed sages,
Embalmed by some critical German,

Old presents by Brunckius, new futures by Monckius,*
The squabbles of Porson with Hermann,

Your Alphas and Betas, your canons of metres,
Your infinite powers of particles,

Shall these and such like work make journeymen
strike work,

And 'prentices tear up their articles.

But oh, since fair science will cruelly fly hence,

To smile upon vagrants and gypsies,

Since knights of the hammer must handle their

grammar,

And nightmen account for eclipses,

Our handicraft neighbours shall share in our labours
If they leave us the whole of the honey,

And the sans culotte caitiff shall start for the plate if
He puts in no claim for plate-money.

Ye halls on whose daïs the don of to-day is
To feed on the beef and the benison,

Ye common room glories, where beneficed Tories
Digest their belief and their venison,

*Referring to a note by Bishop Monk on the Greek Play, "Facile persentibunt juvenes."

Ye duels scholastic, where quibbles monastic
Are asserted with none to confute them,
Ye grave congregations, where frequent taxations
Are settled with none to dispute them :

Far hence be the season when radical treason

Of port and of puddings shall bilk ye;

When the weavers aforesaid shall taste of our boar's head,

The silk-winders swallow our silky :

When the mob shall eat faster than any vice-master,
The watermen try to out-tope us;

When Campbell shall dish up a bowl of our bishop.
Or Brougham and Co. cope with our Copus.

*

GOOD NIGHT.

GOOD night to thee, lady!—though many
Have join'd in the dance to-night,
Thy form was the fairest of any,

Where all was seducing and bright;

Thy smile was the softest and dearest,
Thy form the most sylph-like of all,
And thy voice the most gladsome and clearest
That e'er held a partner in thrall.

Good night to thee, lady!-'tis over-
The waltz, the quadrille, and the song-
The whisper'd farewell of the lover,

The heartless adieu of the throng;

* This poem was published in the Morning Chronicle of 19th July 1825, in reference to a meeting in promotion of the scheme for the London University that had been held at the London Tavern on the first of that month,