Said she, my taste will never learn
To like so huge a man,

So I must beg you will come here
As little as you can.

But still he stoutly urged his suit

With vows, and sighs, and tears, Yet could not pierce her heart, altho' He drove the Dart for years.

In vain he wooed, in vain he sued,
The maid was cold and proud,
And sent him off to Coventry,
While on his way to Stroud.

He fretted all the way to Stroud,
And thence all back to town,
The course of love was never smooth,
So his went up and down.

At last her coldness made him pine
To merely bones and skin,

But still he loved like one resolved
To love through thick and thin.

O Mary! view my wasted back,
And see my dwindled calf;
Tho' I have never had a wife,
I've lost my better half.

Alas, in vain he still assail'd,

Her heart withstood the dint; Though he had carried sixteen stone He could not move a flint.

Worn out, at last he made a vow
To break his being's link;
For he was so reduced in size,
At nothing he could shrink.

Now some will talk in water's praise,
And waste a deal of breath,

But John, tho' he drank nothing else,
He drank himself to death!

The cruel maid that caused his love
Found out the fatal close,

For looking in the butt, she saw
The butt-end of his woes.

Some say his spirit haunts the Crown,

But that is only talk

For after riding all his life,

His ghost objects to walk!

HUGGINS AND DUGGINS

PASTORAL, AFTER POPE

Two swains or clowns-but call them swains-
Whilst keeping flocks on Salisbury plains,

For all that tend on sheep as drovers
Are turned to songsters or to lovers,
Each of the lass he call'd his dear,
Began to carol loud and clear.
First Huggins sang, and Duggins then,
In the way of ancient shepherd men ;
Who thus alternate hitched in song,
"All things by turns, and nothing long."

HUGGINS

Of all the girls about our place,

There's one beats all in form and face;

Search through all Great and Little Bumpstead, You'll only find one Peggy Plumstead,

DUGGINS

To groves and streams I tell my flame,
I make the cliffs repeat her name;
When I'm inspired by gills and noggins,
The rocks re-echo Sally Hoggins!

HUGGINS

When I am walking in the grove,
I think of Peggy as I rove.

I'd carve her name on every tree,
But I don't know my A, B, C.

DUGGINS

Whether I walk in hill or valley,
I think of nothing else but Sally.
I'd sing her praise, but I can sing
No song, except "God save the king!"
HUGGINS

My Peggy does all nymphs excel,
And all confess she bears the bell,-
Where'er she goes swains flock together,
Like sheep that follow the bell wether.
DUGGINS

Sally is tall and not too straight,—
Those very poplar shapes I hate;
But something twisted like an S,—
A crook becomes a shepherdess.

HUGGINS

When Peggy's dog her arms empris'n
I often wish my lot was hisn;
How often I should stand and turn,
To get a pat from hands like hern.

DUGGINS

I tell Sall's lambs how blest they be,
To stand about, and stare at she;
But when I look, she turns and shies,
And won't bear none but their sheep's eyes!

HUGGINS

Love goes with Peggy where she goes,—
Beneath her smile the garden grows;
Potatoes spring, and cabbage starts,
'Tatoes have eyes, and cabbage hearts!

DUGGINS

Where Sally goes it's always Spring,
Her presence brightens everything;

The sun smiles bright, but where her grin is,
It makes brass farthings look like guineas.

HUGGINS

For Peggy I can have no joy,

She's sometimes kind, and sometimes coy,
And keeps me, by her wayward tricks,
As comfortless as sheep with ticks!

DUGGINS

Sally is ripe as June or May,

And yet as cold as Christmas Day;
For when she's asked to change her lot,
Lamb's wool, but Sally, she wool not.

HUGGINS

Only with Peggy and with health,
I'd never wish for state or wealth;
Talking of having health and more pence,
I'd drink her health if I had fourpence!

DUGGINS

Oh, how that day would seem to shine,
If Sally's banns were read with mine;
She cries, when such a wish I carry,
"Marry come up!" but will not marry.

THE CHINA - MENDER

GOOD-MORNING, Mr. What-d'ye-call! Well! here's another pretty job!

Lord help my Lady!—what a smash !—if you had only heard her sob!

It was all through Mr. Lambert: but for certain he was

winey,

To think for to go to sit down on a table full of Chiney. "Deuce take your stupid head!" says my Lady to his very face;

But politeness, you know, is nothing when there's Chiney in the case;

And if ever a woman was fond of Chiney to a passion, It's my mistress, and all sorts of it, whether new or old

fashion.

Her brother's a sea-captain, and brings her home shiploads

Such bonzes, and such dragons, and nasty squatting things like toads;

And great nidnoddin' mandarins, with palsies in the

head :

I declare I've often dreamt of them, and had nightmares

in my bed.

But the frightfuller they are— e-lawk! she loves them all the better,

She'd have Old Nick himself made of Chiney if they'd let her.

Lawk-a-mercy! break her Chiney, and it's breaking her very heart;