For oh, it was nuts to the father of lies That the greater the truth, the worse the libel! LITERARY ADVERTISEMENT. WANTED - Authors of all-work, to job for the season, No matter which party, so faithful to neither: If in gaol, all the better for out-o'-door topics; Your gaol is for trav'llers a charming retreat; They may study high life in the King's Bench community: And of place they're, at least, taught to stick to the unity. Any lady or gentleman come to an age To have good "Reminiscences" (three-score, or higher), And the spelling and grammar both found by the buyer. Price twenty-four shillings, is all that's required. That gingerbread-cakes always give them the colick. Wanted, also, a new stock of Pamphlets on Corn, (gemmen, whose lands Enclosed all in bow-pots, their attics adorn, Or, whose share of the soil may be seen on their hands). No-Popery Sermons, in ever so dull a vein, Sure of a market; should they, too, who pen 'em, Funds, Physic, Corn, Poetry, Boxing, Romance, Nine times out of ten, if his title be good, His matter within of small consequence is; A learn'd Essay, now printing, to show, When he wrote thus - Quodcunque in Fund is, assess it." 3 1 This lady, in her Memoirs, also favours us with the address of those apothecaries who have, from time to time, given her pills that agreed with her; the pills should be ordered "comme pour elle." always desiring that 2 A gentleman, who distinguished himself by his evidence before the Irish Committees. 3 According to the common reading, "quodcunque infundis, acescit." And I raised my chain, and turn'd me round, I saw my livid tormentors pass; Their grief 'twas bliss to hear and see! That did n't bring deadly bane to me. Eager I look'd through the mist of night, Whom nothing but wrong could e'er decide Or what suitors for freedom he'd shut out Ghastly my grim tormentors smiled, And thrusting me back to my den of woe, Than their funeral of howling, answer'd, "No." But the cry still pierced my prison gate, "Whose name is one of th' ill-omen'd words And he now was dead, and—I could n't rejoice! He had fann'd afresh the burning brands For his was the error of head, not heart, And carries a smile, with a curse below! If ever a heart made bright amends For the fatal fault of an erring head A prince without pride, a man without guile, Touch'd to the heart by that solemn toll, While, still as I said, "Heaven rest his soul!" My mates of the dungeon sigh'd, "Amen!" * "You fell," said they, "into the hands of the old man of the sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling by his malicious tricks." Story of Sinbad. BALLAD FOR THE CAMBRIDGE ELECTION. "I authorized my Committee to take the step which they did, of proposing a fair comparison of strength, upon the understanding that whichever of the two should prove to be the weakest, should give way to the other.' Extract from Mr. W. J. Bankes's Letter to Mr. Goulburn. B-NBS is weak, and G-lb-rn too, No one e'er the fact denied; Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, G-lb-rn of the Pope afraid is, On this point so well agree. Choose between them, Cambridge, pray, Each a different mode pursues, Each the same conclusion reaches; G-lb-rn, foolish in his speeches. Each a different foe doth damn, When his own affairs have gone ill; G-lb-rn damneth Dan O'Connell. So, whichever first shall bray, Choose him, Cambridge, for thy own. Choose him, choose him by his bray So described by a Reverend Historian of the Church: "A Delta hat, like the hori zontal section of a pyramid." — Grant's History of the English Church. Thou'rt not Sir Harcourt Lees's no For hats grow like the heads that wear 'em; Who knows but thou may'st deck the pate Or, haply, smartest of triangles, Thou art the hat of Doctor Ow-n; That venerable priest doth go in, Th' example of his reverend brothers, To the spruce delta of his pastor. Oh may'st thou be, as thou proceed'st, Still smarter cock'd, still brush'd the brighter Till, bowing all the way, thou lead'st Thy sleek possessor to a mitre! ODE TO FERDINAND. QUIT the sword, thou King of men, Making petticoats is far Safer sport than making war; Trimming is a better thing, Than the being trimm'd, oh King! First, thy care, oh King, devote Make it of that silk, whose dye If thou could'st a remnant get Of that stuff, with which, of old, Sage Penelope, we're told, • Archbishop Magee affectionately calls the Church Establishment of Ireland "the little Zion." Still, by doing and undoing, Kept her suitors always wooing After this, we'll try thy hand, This is all I now shall ask, Ribands, garters, and such things, By providing petticoats. HAT VERSUS WIG. is "At the interment of the Duke of York, Lord Eld-n, in order to guard against the effec of the damp, stood upon his hat during the whole of the ceremony." 1 "Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below and gods above, For Love is Heav'n and Heav'n is Love." SCOTT. 2 "Brim -a naughty woman." - GROSE. 3 "Ghost [beneath]. Swear! "Hamlet. Ha, ha! say'st thou so? Art thou there, Truepenny? Come ou." 4 His Lordship's demand for fresh affidavits was incessant. |