Good humour alone can impart, The roses that bloom in her face, Have planted their thorns in my heart. Fair Venus who sprang from the sea, Despising the haunts of renown, Leaves Brighton, to frolic with me, And spends the whole winter in town. I sang of the heroes of Spain, Come, Love, bring the graces along, Sweet Ellen, to reign in thy heart, When Love owes to Nature his charms, How vain are the lessons of art. J. And eyes may be, as morning, bright, And tho' a cherry lip I spy, I will not form a wish to press, The warm and mutual kiss to bless. Those charms, I hate then, where I trace, The impulse of a heart unkind, And if I love that heavenly face, 'Tis 'lumin'd with an angel's mind! P. G. ARITHMETIC. ANSWER TO A LADY, WHO SEEING SOME SYMPTOMS OF COURT- "May you ere long united be, And en famille soon number THREE.” K. L. LA REPONSE. Un et une font deux, En la galanterie ; Un et une font trois, C'est une diablerie! Says COCKER, One and one make two ; If folks are kind and civil ; But O! when one and one make three, Christmas. Devil! OLD NICK. GVOL, VII.* : THE LOVES OF THE PLANTS. AIR-" Said a smile to a tear." A hair-bell one day, To a jonquil did say, (The sun beaming bright in spring weather :) Let's set off to yon bower, And beguile half an hour In amorous pastime together. The blushing jonquil, At first took it ill, That to her he such language should use, sir, But at last, (silly plant!) Overcome by his cant, Cried, "I cannot your offer refuse, sir." Of her fatal consent, She soon had to repent, She had, sure as mutton is mutton; For in less than a year, The jonquil, it is clear, Lay-in of a bachelor's button! Jonquil had a brother, Who made a sad pother, Crying, "Oh! my dear sister betray'd is,” And he swore that the law Should redress this faux-pas Of the hair-bell-a Turk 'mongst the ladies. Then away did he trudge, To a cauliflower judge, And to him did the sad tale relate; Taking pains to describe, That the whole jonquil tribe, Were involv'd in his sister's hard fate. Here the grave magistrate, And vow'd that the fuss he'd soon settle- And the hair-bell condemn'd, Now in Blackfriars road, There is seen an abode, For girls, who at times have been frisky: The jonquil to repent, Where she revels, talks slang, and drinks whisky. MORAL. Ye fond maidens so fair! Of that man, ah! beware, Who too warmly on virtue descants, A good lesson for you, May be learnt from the loves of the plants. NAUTICAL QUIBBLE. POLYPETALOUS. FATHER. A sailor is a drunken sot, And shall not have my daughter FRIEND. How can it be! Have you forgot A sailor lives on water? |