Whom your own children never knew ;
Who less the blessed sun esteem
Than lamps' and tapers' greasy gleam;
Ye morning gamesters, walkers, riders,
Say, are ye pelicans or spiders?

THE CAMELEON.-Merrick.

OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud conceited talking spark,
With eyes that hardly served, at most,
To guard their master 'gainst a post;
Yet round the world the blade has been,
To see whatever could be seen:
Returning from his finished tour,
Grown ten times perter than before,
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell'd fool your mouth will stop;
Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-

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"I've seen and sure I ought to know-" So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast, As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass'd, And on their way, in friendly chat, Now talked of this, and then of that, Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter, Of the cameleon's form and nature. "A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never lived beneath the sun : "A lizard's body, lean and long, "A fish's head, a serpent's tongue : "Its tooth, with triple claw disjoin'd, "And what a length of tail behind! "How slow its pace! and then its hue"Who ever saw so fine a blue?"

"Hold there," the other quick replies, "'Tis green,—I saw it with these eyes,

"As late with open mouth it lay,
"And warmed it in the sunny ray :
"Stretch'd at its ease the beast I view'd,
"And saw it eat the air for food."

"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,
"And must again affirm it blue.
"At leisure I the beast survey'd,
"Extended in the cooling shade."

?"

" "Tis
green, 'tis
green, sir, I assure ye."
"Green!" cries the other in a fury-
Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes
""Twere no great loss," the friend replies;
"For if they always serve you thus,
“You'll find 'em but of little use."

So high at last the contest rose,
From words they almost came to blows:
When luckily came by a third-
To him the question they referr❜d;
And begged he'd tell them, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue?

Sirs," cries the umpire," cease your pother, "The creature's neither one nor t'other; "I caught the animal last night, "And viewed it o'er by candle-light: "I marked it well-'twas black as jet"You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet, "And can produce it." "Pray, sir, do: "I'll lay my life, the thing is blue.""And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen "The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." "Well, then, at once to cease the doubt,' Replies the man, " I'll turn him out; "And, when before your eyes I've set him, "If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." He said; then full before their sight Produced the beast, and lo-'twas white!

Both stared; the man looked wond'rous wise"My children," the cameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue,) "You all are right, and all are wrong: "When next you talk of what you view, "Think others see as well as you; "Nor wonder, if you find that none "Prefers your eye-sight to his own."

THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.

GENIUS, blest term of meaning wide!
(For sure no term so misapplied :)
How many bear the sacred name,
That never felt a real flame!
Proud of the specious appellation,
Thus fools have christened Inclination.

But yet suppose a genius true;
As for example, me or you;
Some genial spark of Phoebus' rays,
Perhaps within our bosom plays.
O! how the purer rays aspire,
If Application fans the fire!
Without it genius vainly tries,
Howe'er sometimes it seem to rise;
Nay, Application will prevail,
When braggart parts and genius fail.
And now, to lay my proof before ye,
I here present you with a story.

In days of yore, when Time was young,
When birds convers'd as well as sung,
And use of speech was not confined
Merely to brutes of human-kind;
A forward hare, of swiftness vain,
The genius of the neighb'ring plain!
Would oft deride the drudging crowd;
For geniuses are ever proud.

His flight, he'd boast, 'twere vain to follow;
For horse and dog, he'd beat them hollow:
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length.
A tortoise heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation:
0 puss! it bodes thee dire disgrace,
"When I defy thee to the race.

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Come, 'tis a match,-nay, no denial:

"I lay my shell upon the trial."

'Twas done and done-all fair-a bet-
Judges prepared, and distance set.
The scamp'ring hare outstript the wind
The creeping tortoise lagged behind;
And scarce had past a single pole,
When puss had almost reach'd the goal.
"Friend tortoise," cries the jeering hare,
"Your burden's more than you can bear;
"To help your speed it were as well
"That I should ease you of your shell.
Jog on a little faster, prithee:

"I'll take a nap, and then be with thee."
So said, so done and safely sure!
For say, what conquest more secure?
Whene'er he wak'd (that's all that's in it)
He could o'ertake him in a minute.

The tortoise heard the taunting jeer,
But still resolved to persevere;
Still drawled along, as who should say,
I win, like Fabius, by delay;
On to the goal securely crept,
While puss, unknowing, soundly slept.
The bets were won, the hare awake,
When thus the victor tortoise spake :
"Puss, though I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always won by starts;
"Thou may'st deride my awkward pace;
"But slow and steady wins the race."

THE BOY, AND THE RING DOVE.

A GIDDY boy, intent on play,
With bow and arrow took his way
To where a ring-dove in the grove
Sung her unvarying note of love.
The plaintive sound-the plumage white,
Struck his young ear, and caught his sight
In thoughtless haste his bow he drew,
Straight to the mark the arrow flew,
Transfix'd the dove with fatal wound,
And brought her flutt'ring to the ground

With triumph sparkling in his eyes,
He ran his victim to surprize,

But started breathless as he view'd
Her silver feathers stain'd with blood;
Her panting breast, her closing eye,
And wept, too late! his cruelty.

Ye gay, who sport
sport with satire's darts,
And thoughless aim at human hearts,
Approach your victims prostrate laid,
And see the havock ye have made;
Then will ye weep the sportive jest,
That robb'd the innocent of rest;
The witty tale will charm no more,
That set the table in a roar;
The shaft at others' bosoms thrown
Will turn again to wound your own!

THE ATHEIST AND THE ACORN.
Lady Winchilsea.

METHINKS this world is oddly made,
"And every thing's amiss,"

A dull presuming atheist said,

As stretch'd he lay beneath the shade,
And instanced in this :