He bought a little country seat-

A most delightful rural box,

'Midst woods, and vales, and rocks,

On which were grazing pretty little flocks,
In short, a paradise complete-

And here, some time, they lived in clover;
But-ere the honeymoon was quite, quite over,
The sweet diversity of hill and dale,
My Lady thought, grew rather stale!
She didn't like the hills and rocks,

She found how strange-that they were steepish;
She couldn't bear the pretty little flocks,
Because she thought the little flocks look'd sheepish!

Sir Easy, you must know, was fond of farming;
He had been planning new canals and drains,
And ta'en a monstrous deal of pains :-
One day, when he had been explaining

His fine improvement, he the question put

Of "How d'ye like 'em ?"-" Very well, Love— but"

"But!" cries the Knight—"but what! why ar'n't they charming?"

For this exception put him in a fright;

There was an end of all his Cuts,

His new Canals and Draining;

In that one word he saw his project's ruin;
And well enough he might,

For when a man hears talk of butts,

He naturally thinks there's something brewing.


My dear," exclaims his spouse,

"The house is much too small,

'Tis scarce an habitation for a mouseAnd though the country's very well, Yet I am sure I could not dwell

In it for good and all."

Now good Sir Easy, at the best,

Was never very fond of ranging,

And nothing did he more detest
Than habitation-changing;
However, to oblige his spouse,

As she, alas! had weary grown,
He sold his pretty little house,

And took a spacious mansion up in town.

She came, she saw, but still it was not right, Such suits of rooms, of stairs too, such a train; "My dear, Sir Easy, we must move again !"

He moved again, house after house he tried,
But still my lady was not satisfied;

One was too light, another was too dark,
This had no grounds, and that too large a park!
At length our knight, quite weary of his life,
Began to argue with his wife.

He once was fat, but now so thin was grown,
His waist, a lady might have spann'd it;
(So wonderful was the disparity-)

He lit'rally was nought but skin and bone,
He told her that his spirits could not stand it;
Quite to a skeleton this roving wore him,

And certainly for one who loved hilarity, Events like these were quite too moving for him; "Besides," says he,

"What other husband in the world would be Sent like a card of compliments about

From house to house? I say 'tis plaguy hard!
And if you mean to keep up this vagary,
Drat me, ma'am, but I'd rather be a card!
And then, ma'am, if I were sent out,
At least, I should be stationary !"

Thus, having given his passion vent,
He soon grew cool;

And two hours after, forth he went
Like a good natur'd fool,

And bought another house,

To make a final trial of his spouse.

He pitched on one i' the outskirts of the City,
On which he placed a firm reliance;

You couldn't point out one more neat and pretty,
'Twas not too large, 'twas not too small;
'Twas not too low, 'twas not too tall;
Neither in country, nor in town,

But set in happy medium down,

Just like St Dunstan's bells between the giants.

My lady viewed it round and round,
And not a fault was to be found;
The knight exults, his cares are past,
And he shall happy live at last.
Alas! how blind is man,

Of disappointments how unwitting!

One morn, at breakfast sitting,

The conversation on contentment ran :

"My dear," exclaims the knight, in pleasant strain, "You've nothing now of which you can complain."

"No, nothing, love-but-" "But again! Madam, I plainly see


You want to make a butt of me!"
"Good Lord! Sir Easy, how you
Pray hear me out-I like it all:
But just upon that garden wall
A Peacock comes, my ears appalling
Each morn with his continual squalling;
And all the servants do, wont scare it—
I fear my nerves will never bear it!"
Forth rush'd Sir Easy in a roar,
And dashed his tea-cup on the floor;
"Confound the peacock and his squall!
Now hear me, madam, once for all;
The house I've got, the house I love,
And hang me, madam, if I move!

So take it well or take it ill;
For let me choose what house I will,
In town or country, great or small,
You'll find-a Peacock on the wall!"



A WARRIOR SO bold and a virgin so bright,
Convers'd as they sat on the green;
They gaz'd on each other with tender delight,
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight,
The maid was the fair Imogene.

"And ah !" said the youth, "since to-morrow I go To fight in a far-distant land,

Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow, Some other will court you, and you will bestow

On a wealthier suitor your hand."

"Oh! hush these suspicions!" fair Imogene said,
"So hurtful to love and to me;
For if you be living or if you be dead,

I swear by the Virgin that none in your stead
Shall husband of Imogene be.

"And if e'er for another my heart should decide, Forgetting Alonzo the Brave,

God grant that to punish my falsehood and pride,
Thy ghost at my marriage may sit by my side,
May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,
And bear me away to the grave."

To Palestine hastened the warrior so bold,
His love she lamented him sore;

But scarce had a twelvemonth elapsed, when behold!
A baron all covered with jewels and gold

Arriv'd at fair Imogene's door.

His treasure, his presents, his spacious domain,
Soon made her untrue to her vows;
He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain,
He caught her affections so light and so vain,
And carried her home as his spouse.

And now had the marriage been blest by the priest, The revelry now was begun,

The tables they groaned with the weight of the feast, Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceased, When the bell of the castle toll'd-ONE!

"Twas then, with amazement, fair Imogene found A stranger was placed by her side;

His air was terrific, he uttered no sound,

He spoke not, he moved not, he looked not around,
But earnestly gazed on the bride.

His vizor was closed, and gigantic his height,
His armour was sable to view;

All laughter and pleasure were hush'd at his sight,
The dogs, as they eyed him, drew back with affright,
And the lights in the chamber burnt blue.

His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay,
The guests sat in silence and fear;

At length spoke the bride, while she trembled, "I pray,
Sir Knight, that your helmet aside you would lay,
And deign to partake of our cheer."

The lady is silent, the stranger complies,
And his vizor he slowly unclosed-
O gods! what a sight met fair Imogene's eyes!
What words can express her dismay and surprise,
When a skeleton's head was exposed!

All present then uttered a terrified shout,
And turn'd with disgust from the scene;

The worms they crept in and the worms they crept ou;
And sported his eyes and his temples about
While the spectre addressed Imogene

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