FUGITIVE LINES ON PAWNING MY WATCH.

"Aurum pot-a-bile: "—Gold biles the pot.-Free TranslatiON.

FAREWELL then, my golden repeater,

We're come to my Uncle's old shop;
And hunger won't be a dumb-waiter,
The Cerberus growls for a sop!

To quit thee, my comrade diurnal,
My feelings will certainly scotch;

But oh! there's a riot internal,

And Famine calls out for the Watch!

Ob! hunger's a terrible trial,

I really must have a relief,

So here goes the plate of your dial

To fetch me some Williams's beef!

As famish'd as any lost seaman,

I've fasted for many a dawn,

And now must play chess with the Demon,
And give it a check with a pawn.

I've fasted, since dining at Buncle's, Two days with true Perceval zealAnd now must make up, at my Uncle's, By getting a duplicate meal.

No Peachum it is, or young Lockit,
That rifles my fob with a snatch;
Alas! I must pick my own pocket,

And make gravy-soup of my watch!

So long I have wander'd a starver,
I'm getting as keen as a hawk;
Time's long hand must take up a carver,
His short hand lay hold of a fork.

Right heavy and sad the event is,
But oh! it is Poverty's crime;

I've been such a Brownrigg's Apprentice,
I thus must be "out of my Time."

Alas! when in Brook Street the Upper
In comfort I lived between walls,
I've gone to a dance for my supper ;-
But now I must go to Three Balls!

Folks talk about dressing for dinner,

But I have for dinner undrest;

Since Christmas, as I am a sinner,
I've eaten a suit of my best.

I haven't a rag or a mummock
To fetch me a chop or a steak;
I wish that the coats of my stomach
Were such as my Uncle would take!

When dishes were ready with garnish
My watch used to warn with a chime-
But now my repeater must furnish
The dinner in lieu of the time!

My craving will take no denials,
I can't fob it off, if you stay,
So go, and the old Seven Dials

Must tell me the time of the day.

Your chimes I shall never more hear 'em, To part is a Tic Douloureux !

But Tempus has his edax rerum,

And I have my Feeding-Time too!