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But a turtle journeying o'er the sea, 'On the service of his Majesty !'

When I spied him first, in the twilight dim,

I did not know what to make of him; But said to myself-as slow he plied His fins, and rolled from side to side, Conceitedly over the watery path"Tis my Lord of St-w-ll taking a bath;

And I hear him now, among the fishes,
Quoting Vattel and Burgerdiscius!"

But, no-twas, indeed, a turtle, wide
And plump as ever these eyes descried;
A turtle, juicy as ever yet
Glued up the lips of a baronet!
Ah, much did it grieve my soul to see
That an animal of such dignity,
Like an absentee, abroad should roam,
When he ought to stay and be ate at
home.

But now 'a change came o'er my dream,' Like the magic lantern's shifting slider ;

I looked, and saw by the evening beam, On the back of that turtle sate a rider,

A goodly man, with an eye so merry,
I knew 'twas our Foreign Secretary,
Who there, at his ease, did sit and smile,
Like Waterton on his crocodile ;
Cracking such jokes, at every motion,

As made the turtle squeak with glee, And own that they gave him a lively

notion

Of what his own forced-meat balls would be.

So on the Sec., in his glory, went
Over that briny element,
Waving his hand, as he took farewell,
With a graceful air, and bidding me tell
Inquiring friends that the turtle and he
Were gone on a foreign embassy-
To soften the heart of a Diplomate,
Who is known to doat upon verdant fat,
And to let admiring Europe see,
That calipash and calipee

Are the English forms of Diplomacy!

COTTON AND CORN.

A DIALOGUE.

SAID Cotton to Coru t'other day,

As they met, and exchanged a salute(Squire Corn in his cabriolet, Poor Cotton, half famished, on foot)—

'Great Squire, if it isn't uncivil

Look down on a hungry poor devil,
To hint at starvation before you,
And give him some bread, I implore
you!'

Quoth Corn then, in answer to Cotton, Perceiving he meant to make free,— 'Low fellow, you've surely forgotten

The distance between you and me !

"To expect that we, peers of high birth, Should waste our illustrious acres

For no other purpose on earth

Than to fatten curst calico-makers!—

That bishops to bobbins should bend, Should stoop from their bench's sublimity,

Great dealers in lawn, to befriend

Your contemptible dealers in dimity!

'No-vile manufacture! ne'er harbour A hope to be fed at our boards;Base offspring of Arkwright the barber, What claim canst thou have upon lords?

'No-thanks to the taxes and debt,

And the triumph of paper o'er guineas, Our race of Lord Jemmys, as yet, May defy your whole rabble of Jennys l

So saying, whip, crack, and away Went Corn in his cab through the throng,

So madly, I heard them all say Squire Corn would be down before long.

THE DONKEY AND HIS PANNIERS.

A FABLE.

Fessus jam sudat asellus,

Parce illi; vestrum delicium est asinus.-Virgil. Copa.

A DONKEY, whose talent for burdens was wondrous,
So much that you'd swear he rejoiced in a load,
One day had to jog under panniers so pond'rous,
That-down the poor donkey fell, smack on the road.

His owners and drivers stood round in amaze-
What! Neddy, the patient, the prosperous Neddy,
So easy to drive through the dirtiest ways,

For every description of job-work so ready!

One driver (whom Ned might have 'hailed' as a 'brother')1
Had just been proclaiming his donkey's renown,

For vigour, for spirit, for one thing or other,

When, lo, 'mid his praises, the donkey came down !

But, how to upraise him?-one shouts, t'other whistles,
While Jenky the conjuror, wisest of all,

Declared that an "

over production' of thistles 2—
(Here Ned gave a stare)—was the cause of his fall.
Another wise Solomon cries, as he passes,-

'There, let him alone, and the fit will soon cease
The beast has been fighting with other jackasses,
And this is his mode of transition to peace."

Some looked at his hoofs, and, with learned grimaces,
Pronounced that too long without shoes he had
gone-
'Let the blacksmith provide him a sound metal basis,
(The wiseacres said), and he's sure to jog on.'

But others who gabbled a jargon half Gaelic,

Exclaimed, Hoot awa, mon, you're a' gane astray,
And declared that, whoe'er might prefer the metallic,
They'd shoe their own donkeys with papier maché.'
Meanwhile the poor Neddy, in torture and fear,
Lay under his pannier, scarce able to groan,
And-what was still dolefuller-lending an ear
To advisers whose ears were a match for his own.

At length, a plain rustic, whose wit went so far

As to see others' folly, roared out, as he passed-
'Quick-off with the panniers, all dolts as ye are,
Or your prosperous Neddy will soon kick his last !'

Alluding to an early poem of Mr. Coleridge's addressed to an ass, and beginning, 'I hail thee, brother!'

* A certain country gentleman having said in

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the House, 'that we must return at last to the food of our ancestors,' somebody asked Mr. T. what food the gentleman meant ?'-"Thistles, I suppose,' answered Mr. T.

ODE TO THE SUBLIME PORTE.

GREAT Sultan, how wise are thy state compositions !
And oh, above all, I admire that decree,
In which thou command'st that all she politicians
Shall forthwith be strangled and cast in the sea.

"Tis my fortune to know a lean Benthamite spinster—
A maid, who her faith in old Jeremy puts;
Who talks, with a lisp, of the last new Westminster,'
And hopes you're delighted with Mill upon Gluts;'
Who tells you how clever one Mr. F-nbl-nque is,
How charming his Articles 'gainst the Nobility;-
And assures you, that even a gentleman's rank is,
In Jeremy's school, of no sort of utility.

To see her, ye Gods, a new Number devouring-
Art. 1, On the Needle's variations' by Snip;
Art. 2, 'On the Bondage of Greece,' by John B-r-ng
(That eminent dealer in scribbling and scrip);

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Art. 3, Upon Fallacies,' Jeremy's own

(The chief fallacy being his hope to find readers); Art. 4, Upon Honesty-author unknown;

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Art. 5 (by the young Mr. M-), Hints to Breeders.'

Oh Sultan, oh Sultan, though oft for the bag

And the bowstring, like thee, I am tempted to call-
Though drowning's too good for each blue-stocking hag,
I would bag this she Benthamite first of them all!

Ay, and-lest she should ever again lift her head
From the watery bottom, her clack to renew,-
As a clog, as a sinker, far better than lead,

I would hang round her neck her own darling Reviev

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Oft, too, the Corn grows animate,

And a whole crop of heads appears, Like Papists, bearding Church and State

Themselves together by the ears!

While, leaders of the wheat, a row
Of Poppies, gaudily declaiming,
Like Counsellor O'Bric and Co.,

Stand forth, somniferously flaming!
In short, their torments never cease;
And oft I wish myself transferred off
To some far, lonely land of peace,
Where Corn or Papists ne'er were
heard of.

Oh waft me, Parry, to the Pole;

For-if my fate is to be chosen "Twixt bores and icebergs-on my soul, I'd rather, of the two, be frozen!

THE PERIWINKLES AND THE
LOCUSTS.

A SALMAG UNDIAN HYMN.

To Panurge was assigned the Lairdship of Salmagundi, which was yearly worth 6,789,106,789 ryals, besides the revenue of the Locusts and Periwinkles, amounting one year with another to the value of 2,425,768,' etc. etc.-Rabelais. 'HURRA! Hurra!' I heard them say, And they cheered and shouted all the

way,

As the Laird of Salmagundi went
To open in state his Parliament.

The Salmagundians once were rich,
Or thought they were-no matter
which-

For, every year, the Revenue1

From their periwinkles larger grew;
And their rulers, skilled in all the trick,
And legerdemain of arithmetic,
Knew how to place 1, 2, 3, 4,

5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 and 10,

Such various ways, behind, before,
That they made a unit seem a score,
And proved themselves most wealthy

men!

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But folks at length began to doubt
What all this conjuring was about;
For, every day, more deep in debt
They saw their wealthy rulers get :-
'Let's look (said they) the items
through,

And see if what we're told be true
Of our Periwinkle Revenue.'

But, lord, they found there wasn't a
tittle

For they gained by Periwinkles little,
Of truth in aught they heard before;

And lost by Locusts ten times more!
These Locusts are a lordly breed
Some Salmagundians love to feed.
Of all the beasts that ever were born,
Your Locust most delights in corn;
And though his body be but small,
To fatten him takes the devil and all!

Nor this the worst, for, direr still,
Alack, alack, and well-a-day!
Their Periwinkles-once the stay
And prop of the Salmagundian till—
For want of feeding, all fell ill !

And still, as they thinned and died
away,

The Locusts, ay, and the Locusts' Bill,
Grew fatter and fatter every day!

'Oh fie! oh fie!' was now the cry,
As they saw the gaudy show go by,
And the Laird of Salmagundi weut
To open his Locust Parliament !

Accented as in Swift's line-
'Not so a nation's revenues are paid.'

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