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HOW-D’Y’-DO AND GOOD-BYE.

One day Good-bye met How-d'y'-do,

Too close to shun saluting, But soon the rival sisters flew

From kissing to disputing.

Away! says How-d’y'-do, your mien

Appals my cheerful nature; No name so sad as yours is seen

In Sorrow's nomenclature.

Whene'er I give one sunshine hour,

Your cloud comes o'er to shade it; Where'er I plant one bosom flower,

Your mildew drops to fade it.

Ere How-d'y'-do has tuned each tongue

To • Hope's delightful measure,' Good-bye in Friendship's ear has rung

The knell of parting pleasure.

From sorrows past my chemic skill

Draws smiles of consolation, While you from present joys distil

The tears of separation.

Good-bye replied, “ Your statement's true,

And well your cause you've pleaded ; But pray who'd think of How-d'y’-do,

Unless Good-bye preceded ?

Without my prior influence

Could yours have ever flourish’d; And can your hand one flower dispense

But those my tears have nourish'd ?

How oft, if at the court of Love

Concealment be the fashion,
When How-d’y’-do has fail'd to move,

Good-bye reveals the passion.

How oft when Cupid's fires decline,

As every heart remembers, One sigh of mine, and only mine,

Revives the dying embers.

Go bid the timid lover choose,

And I'll resign my charter,
If he for ten kind How-d'y'-do's

One kind Good-bye would barter.

From Love and Friendship's kindred source

We both derive existence,
And they would both lose half their force

Without our joint assistance.

'Tis well the world our merit knows,

Since time, there's no denying, One half in How-d'y'-doing goes, And t'other in Good-byeing.

HON. W. R. SPENCER.

THE

BUTTERFLY'S BALL AND THE GRASS

HOPPER'S FEAST:

COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste To the Butterfly's ball and the Grasshopper's feast; The trumpeter Gadfly has summon’d the crew, And the revels are now only waiting for you.

On the smooth shaven grass by the side of a wood, Beneath a broad oak which for ages has stood, See the children of earth and the tenants of air To an evening's amusement together repair.

And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back, And there came the Gnat, and the Dragonfly too, And all their relations, green, orange, and blue.

And there came the Moth, with her plumage of

down, And the Hornet, with jacket of yellow and brown, Who with him the Wasp, his companion did bring, But they promised that evening to lay by their

sting.

Then the sly little Dormouse peep'd out of his hole, And led to the feast his blind cousin the Mole; And the snail, with her horns peeping out of the shell,

[an ell. Came, fatigued with the distance, the length of

A mushroom the table, and on it was spread
A water-dock leaf, which their tablecloth made;
The viands were various, to each of their taste,
And the Bee brought his honey to crown the repast.

Then close on his haunches, so solemn and wise, The Frog from a corner look'd up to the skies ; And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversion to see,

[tree. Mounted high over head, and look'd down from a

Then out came the Spider, with fingers so fine,
To show his dexterity on the tight line ;
From one branch to another his cobwebs he strung,
Then quick as an arrow he darted along;

But just in the middle, oh, shocking to tell! From his rope in a moment poor harlequin fell; Yet he touch'd not the ground, but his talons he

spread, Hung suspended in air at the end of a thread.

Then the Grasshopper came with a jerk and a spring,

[wing; Very long was his leg, though but short was his He took but one skip, and was soon out of sight, Then chirp'd his own praises the rest of the

night.

With steps most majestic the Snail did advance, And he promised the gazers a minuet to dance; But they all laugh'd so loud that he drew in his

head, And went in his own little chamber to bed.

Then, as evening gave way to the shadows of night,

[light: Their watchman, the Glowworm, came out with his So home let us hasten, while yet we can see, For no watchman is waiting for you or for me.

ROSCOE.

ODE TO THE SPRING.

BY A MAN OF FASHION.

Lo! where the party-giving dames,

Fair Fashion's train appear,
Disclose the long-expected games,

And wake the modest year;
The Opera warbler pours her throat,
Responsive to the actor's note,

The dear bought harmony of spring ;
While, beaming pleasure as they fly,
Bright flambeaus through the murky sky

Their welcome fragrance fling.

Where'er the rout's full myriads close

The staircase and the door,
Where'er thick files of belles and beaux

Perspire at every pore;
Beside some faro table’s brink,
With me the Muse shall stand and think

(Hemm’d sweetly in by squeeze of state)
How vast the comfort of the crowd,
How condescending are the proud,

How happy are the great!

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