156 A SINGULAR EXHIBITION AT SOMERSET HOUSE They're only fit for window frames, and shutters and street doors, David will paint 'em any day at Red Lions or Blue Boars, Why, Morland was a fool to him,-at a little pig or SOW It's really hard it ain't hung up,-I could cry about the Cow! But I know well what it is, and why-they're jealous of David's fame, But to vent it on the Cow, poor thing, is a cruelty and a shame, Do you think it might hang by and by, if you cannot hang it now? David has made a party up, to come and see his Cow. learners, Why can't it hang up, turn about, with that picture of Mr. Turner's? Or do you think from Mr. Etty you need apprehend a row, If now and then you cut him down to hang up David's Cow! I can't think where their tastes have been, to not have such a creature, Although I say, that should not say, it was prettier than nature! It must be hung-and shall be hung-for, Mr. H—, I Vow, I daren't take home the catalogue, unless it's got the Cow! As we only want it to be seen, I should not so much care, If it was only round the stone man's neck, a-coming up the stair. Or down there in the marble room where all the figures stand, Where one of them three Graces might just hold it in her hand Or may be Baily's Charity the favour would allow, And the Suffolk Gallery will not do-it's not a Suffolk I wish you'd seen him painting her, he hardly took his meals Till she was painted on the board, correct from head to heels: His heart and soul was in his Cow, and almost made him shabby, He hardly whipped the boys at all,—or helped to nurse the babby, And when he had her all complete and painted over red, He got so grand, I really thought him going off his head. Now hang it, Mr. Hilton, do just hang it anyhow, Poor David, he will hang himself, unless you hang his Cow. And if it's inconvenient and drawn too big by half— David shan't send next year except a very little calf!” LINES TO MARY OLD BAILEY BALLADS (At No. 1, Newgate. Favoured by Mr. Wontner.) O MARY, I believed you true, And I was blest in so believing; But till this hour I never knew That you were taken up for thieving! Oh! when I snatch'd a tender kiss, But then to gaze on that fair face— It would have been an unfair feeling To dream that you had pilfered lace And Flint's had suffered from your stealing! Or when my suit I first preferred, To bring your coldness to repentance, Before I hammer'd out a word, How could I dream you heard a sentence ! Or when with all the warmth of youth How could I dream that ivory part, Your hand-where I have look'd and linger'd, Altho' it stole away my heart, Had been held up as one light-fingered! In melting verse your charms I drew, Spoke only what had been indicted! Oh! when that form, a lovely one, A chance of hanging on your own too. You said you pick'd me from the world, Oh! when our love had got so far, The banns were read by Doctor Daly, Who asked if there was any bar— Why did not some one shout "Old Bailey"? But when you robed your flesh and bones And when the parson came to say, My goods were yours, if I had got any, And you should honour and obey, Who could have thought-"O Bay of Botany!" But oh!-the worst of all your slips THE COMPASS, WITH VARIATIONS "The Needles have sometimes been fatal to Mariners." Picture of Isle of Wight. I ONE close of day-'twas in the Bay While light was hanging crowns of gold On mountains high and hoary, A gallant bark got under weigh, II For Leghorn she was bound direct, III Bronzed mariners were hers to view, But midst their tan there stood one man, IV His brow was high, a loftier brow |