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Along the homeward path then feels his way,
Lifting his brow against the shining day,
And with a playful rapture round his eyes,
Presents a sighing parent with the prize.

BLOOMFIELD. Lifting his brow, &c.-An allusion to the singular habit observed in all blind persons of keeping the head very erect, as if searching for the light.

LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN. [GEORGE COLMAN, an able and successful dramatic author, was

born 21st October, 1762. His best-known works are “Broad Grins,” “Poor Gentleman,” and “John Bull.”

He died 26th October, 1836.] 1. Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown

place, Has seen “Lodgings to Let” stare him full in the


Some are good, and let dearly; while some, 'tis

well known, Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone. 2. Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and

lonely, Hired lodgings that took single gentlemen only; But Will was so fat, he appeared like a ton,

Or like two single gentlemen rolled into one.
3. He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated,

But all the night long he felt fevered and heated;
And though heavy to weigh, as a score of fat

sheep, He was not by any means heavy to sleep. 4. Next night 'twas the same; and the next, and

the next; He, perspired like an ox; he was nervous and

vexed ;

Week passed after week, till, by weekly succession,

His weakly condition was past all expression. 5. In six months his acquaintance began much to

doubt him; For his skin, “like a lady's loose gown,” hung

about him; He sent for a doctor, and cried like a ninny : “I have lost many pounds — make me well

there's a guinea.” 6. The doctor looked wise: “A slow fever,” he said :

Prescribed sudorifics and going to bed.
“Sudorifics in bed,” exclaimed Will, “are humbugs!
I've enough of them there without paying for

drugs!” 7. Will kicked out the doctor; but when ill indeed,

E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host, he said : “Sir, do you know,

I’m the fat single gentleman six months ago ? 8. "Look'e, landlord, I think,"argued Will with a grin,

“ That with honest intentions you first took me in: But from the first night—and to say it I'm boldI've been so hanged hot, that I'm sure I caught

cold.” 9. Quoth the landlord : “ Till now I had ne'er a dis

I've let lodgings ten years ; I'm a baker to boot;
In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven;

your bed is immediately over my oven.” 10. “ The oven !” says Will. Says the host : “Why

this passion ? " In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir ?” “ Zounds !” cries Will,

in a taking, “Who wouldn't be crusty with half-a-year's baking?” 11. Will paid for his rooms; cried the host, with a

“Well, I see you've been going away half a year.”
Friend, we can't well agree; yet no quarrel,”

Will said;
“But I'd rather not perish while you


your bread.




(CAROLINE OLIPHANT, BARONESS NAIRN, belonged to the family

of the Oliphants of Gask, in Perthshire. She was born on
the 16th of August, 1766 ; and died 27th October, 1845.
She is authoress of several fugitive pieces, of which our ex-
tract is perhaps the best known.]
1. I'm wearin' awa', John,

Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John;
I'm wearin' awa'

To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, John;

no. There's neither cauld nor care, John; cold. The day's aye fair

I the land o' the leal.




2. Our bonny bairn's there, John;

She was baith gude and fair, John;
And oh! we grudged her sair

To the land o' the leal.
But sorrow's seľ wears past, John-
And joy 's a-comin' fast, John-
The joy that's aye to last

In the land o' the leal.

3. Sae dear 's that joy was bought, John,

Sae free the battle fought, John,
That sinfu’man e'er brought

To the land o' the leal.

eye. soul.


Oh, dry your glistening e'e, John!
My saul langs to be free, John;
And angels beckon me

To the land o' the leal.
4. Oh, haud ye leal and true, John !

Your day it's wearin' through, John;
And I'll welcome you

To the land o' the leal.
Now, fare-ye-weel, my ain Jolm,
This warld's cares are vain, John;
We'll meet, and we'll be fain,

In the land o' the leal.

BETH GELERT. [The Hon. W. R. SPENCER, one of the brightest ornaments of the

gay circles of the metropolis, was younger son of Lord Charles
Spencer. He was author of some ballads and miscellaneous
pieces, and published a translation of Bürger’s “Leonora.'
He held the situation of Commissioner of Stamps, and died
at Paris in 1834.]
1. The spearmen heard the bugle sound,

And cheerily smiled the morn;
And many a brach, and many a hound,

Obeyed Llewelyn's horn.
2. And still be blew a louder blast,


gave a lustier cheer,
Come, Gêlert, come, wert never last

Llewelyn's horn to hear.
3. “() where does faithful Gêlert roam,

The flower of all his race ;
So true, so brave-a lamb at home,

A lion in the chase ?
4. In sooth, he was a peerless hound,

The gift of royal John ;
But now no Gêlert could be found,

And all the chase rode on.


5. That day Llewelyn little loved

The chase of hart and hare;
And scant and small the booty proved,

For Gêlert was not there.
6. Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied,

When, near the portal seat,
His truant Gelert he espied,

Bounding his lord to greet.
7. But, when he gained his castle-door,

Aghast the chieftain stood;
The hound all o'er was smeared with gore;

His lips, his fangs, ran blood.
8. Llewelyn gazed with fierce surprise ;

Unused such looks to meet,
His favourite checked his joyful guise,

And crouched, and licked his feet. 9. Onward, in haste, Llewelyn passed,

And on went Gêlert too;
And still, where'er his eyes he cast,

Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view. 10. O’erturned his infant's bed he found,

With blood-stained covert rent:
And all around the walls and ground

With recent blood besprent.
11. He called his child-no voice replied-

He searched with terror wild ;
Blood, blood he found on every side,

But nowhere found his child. 12. “Hell-hound ! my child's by thee devoured,"

The frantic father cried ;
And to the hilt his vengeful sword

He plunged in Gêlert's side. 13. Aroused by Gêlert's dying yell,

Some slumberer wakened nigh :

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