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THE DEATH OF MARMION.
With fruitless labour, Clara bound,
For that she ever sung,
So the notes rung;---
Oh ! think on faith and bliss !
But never aught like this."
And-Stanley! was the cry;
And fired his glazing eye;
And shouted “Victory !
A HORSE WELL SOLD.
BY JOSEPH MIDDLETON.
For wit and cunning, mirth and fun,
"Twas Lammas fair, a joyous time
And hundreds more, a joyous band, All hastening forwards hand-in-hand; Some talking o'er the affairs o' state, Some grumbling loud at being so late, Some tossing round for pipes and glasses, Some whisp'ring nonsense to the lasses. And there went Hodge, exalted high, Above his fellow.company, Riding old Dobbin to the fair, To sell or 'change the hackney there, For he was much the worse for wear, And like the fat, old country parson, Oft carried a religious farce on. For lately amidst the pastures straying, He'd ta'en an awkward fit of praying, And often went, with greatest ease, Quite Christian-like, upon his knees; And whip nor spur had power to bind him, From ousting all that came behind him; Besides, as Hodge would often say, The "clumsy brute" had seen his day, For't had been settled o'er and o'er, His age was somewhere near a score. Thus mounted on that bit of blood, (The outcast of his master's stud!) Hodge soon went past his comrades hollow; And now, good readers, we will follow; For naught will us the crowd avail, Hodge is the hero of our tale.
“ Ya-hip! ya-hip! Zounds ! stand aside, I'll shew ye all, men, how to ride : Look at my tit, just mark his paces, He'd win the cup at Epsom Races !" Thus cried young Hodge, as on he flew, The busy cattle market through, Waving his whip this way and that, Now by his side, now o'er his hat; Looking around, with anxious eye, Some unskill'd yokel to espy: And shortly, chuckling loud with mirth, Up came a spark, (Cockney by birth!) “ Vell, Mister Hodge,” the Southern said, “ Now 'spose ve does a little trade; I like your beast, he seems to be All sound, and right and tight-demme! So now, good Hodge, say in a trice, Vat is his age and vat his price." “Wha, as for age, Sur, ye mun ken, He's t'other side o' five; and then
For price, I am in conscience bun',
The Cockney pulls a hnndred faces, Bids Hodge dismount and change him places, That he may try good Dobbin's paces ; A thing no sooner said than done. So now behold the spark upon Old Dobbin's back, with whip in hand A regular sportsman of the Strand ! His knees and toes turn'd widely out, His lengthy arms wagging about, Like windmill sails,-before, behind, When rudely blows the northern wind, Now off he goes, trot, trot along, The wonder of the gazing throng! While cunning Hodge runs quickly after, Though almost overwhelmed with laughter. On,-on he rides, until beyond The busy town, when, lo! a pond, Well stock'd with ducks and geese, appears, Old Dobbin neighs, and pricks his ears, And tow'rds the welcome water steers, In spite of spur or flogging, just, As “rum ones" say, to “slake the dust!" Now o'er some hidden stone he drops, And over head the Cockney pops; He rises now, and stares about, Now, like a half-drown'd rat crawls out, And unto all 'tis clear he hath Not much enjoy'd his trip to Bath'
Now Master Hodge, just out of breath,
Hodge took the cash-his race was won;
THE SAILOR'S JOURNAL. Hove out of Portsmouth on board the Britannia Fly—a swift sailer—an outside berth-rather drowsy the first watch or two - like to have slipped off the stern-cast anchor at Georgetook a fresh quid and supply of grog-comforted the upper works-spoke several homeward bound frigates on the roadand after a tolerable smooth voyage, entered the ports of London at ten minutes past five, post-meridian.-Steered to Nan's lodgings and unshipp'd my cargo-Nan admired the shiners, so did the landlord-gave 'em a handful a piece-emptied a bowl of the right sort with the landlord, to the health of Lord Nelson-all three set sail for the play-got a berth in the cabin on the larboard side—wanted to smoke a pipe, but the boatswain would not let me.
Nan, I believe, called the play Pollzaro, with Harlekin Hamlet; but d-n me if I knew stem for stern-remember to rig out Nan like the fine folks in the cabin right ahead. Saw Tom Junk aloft in the corner of the upper deck-hailed him—the signal returned-some of the land lubbers in the cock pit began to laugh-tipp'd 'em a little forecastle lingo, till they sheered off. Emptied the grog bottle-fell fast asleep-dream'd of the battle of Camperdown. My landlord told me the play was over-glad of it-crowded sail for a hackney coach-got on board-squally weather-rather inclined to be sea sick-arrived at Nan’s lodgings-gave the pilot a two-pound note, and told him not to mind the change-supped with Nan, and swung in the same hammock-looked over my rhino in the morning-great deal of it to be sure ; but I hope, with the help of a few
friends, to spend every shilling in a little time, to the honour and glory of Old England.
LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.
A CHIEFTAIN, to the highlands bound,
Cries, “Boatman, do not tarry !
To row us o'er the ferry."-
This dark and stormy water ?"
And this Lord Ullin's daughter.
" And fast before her father's men,
Three days we've fled together;
My blood would stain the heather.
“ His horsemen hard behind us ride,
Should they our steps discover,
When they had slain her lover ?"
Out spoke the hardy highland wight,
“I'll go my chief-I'm ready; It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady:
“ And, by my word! the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry;
I'll row you o'er the ferry !"
By this the storm grew loud apace,
The water-wraith was shrieking,
Grew dark as they were speaking.