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Says my lordI beg you will call it ee;
And as whilom you have listen'd ne, I'll be off to the Paynims beyond the sea(Oh Thrope! Ann Thrope! Oh Miss Ann Thrope !)
And leave you eftsoons to die.'
A Corsair hove in sight;-
And hold it fast and tight.
And they jump'd together into the boat (Oh Thrope! Ann Thrope! Oh Miss Ann Thrope !)
And bid her papa good night.
TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE.
O’er London Bridge was stumping,
The water-works a pumping,
This grand machine was made,
Betwixt the ballustrade,
Observes the gaping lout;
His pocket inside out.
Numps feels a twitch, and turns around
The thief, with artful leer,
For pickpockets are near.'
I'se not a simple youth;
I've putn in ma mouth!'
Then modestly retires ;
And still the works admires.
With Humphry full in view, And now an infant thief drew near,
And each the other knew: When thus the elder thief began :
Observe that gaping lout!
And we must get it out.'
. I have a scheme quite pat: Only observe how neat I'll queer
That gaping country flat !'
Was trudging through the street,
Falls prostrate at his feet.
The artful urchin moans;
Roll jingling o'er the stones.
The passengers now stoop to find
And give the boy his coin,
Most cordially does join.
But where's my guinea, master? Help, help! good folks, for God's sake, help!'
Bawls out this hopeful youth;
And has it in his mouth!'
Now close to Humphry draws;
The guinea from his jaws !
I'll give the child his guinea;
In this same country ninny?'
• Good measters, hear me, pray;' But Duck him! duck him! is the cry:
At length he sneaks away.
What often I've heard zaid,
VOLUMES of historic lore
Flourish'd a brood of strapping dogs,
And hurl it at your pericrane,
By gallant Guy of Warwick slain
Nor could this desperate champion daunt
His whyniard in her blood imbrued;
And in his porridge-pot her brisket stew'd; Then butcher'da wild boar and ate him barbecued.
When Pantagruel ate salt pork
To shovel mustard into 's chops.-
And made on purpose for an age of gold;
throttles, But we are a race of starvelings—I'll be shot elseBegotten with the rinsings of the bottles.
'Twas so the sage Monboddo wrote: And many a learned clod of note
You'll see come forward and advance
Positions every whit as wise :
And that they tell their friends no lies I'll show you by collateral circumstance.
There lived-though that is somewhat wide
O'the purpose—I should say, there died A squire, and Wyschard was bis name :
Pictish and Saxon ancestry
Illustrated his pedigree,
Yet these renowned ancestors,
As if they had been vulgar sons of whores, Were long, long since by all the world forgot Save by himself: he knew the very spot Where they had each been coffin'd up to rot;
And in his will directions gave exact Amongst those venerable dads to have his carcass
Now deep the sexton burrows to explore
The sepulchre that these old worthies hid; Something at last that seem'd a huge barn-door,
But was no other than a coffin lid, Opposed his efforts ; long it spread, and wide, And near the upper end a crevice he espied. Thence on his ear strange uncouth utterance broke, As of some sullen slumberer half awoke, Who, yawning, mutter'd inarticulate And angry sounds; yet could not this abate The courage of the clown: "Speak out!' quoth he, « Raw head and bloody bones ne'er yet affrighted