Forty times over let Michaelmas pass,
Grizzling hair the brain doth clear-
Then you know a boy is an ass,
Then you know the worth of a lass,
Once you have come to Forty Year.

Pledge me round, I bid ye declare,

All good fellows whose beards are grey, Did not the fairest of the fair

Common grow and wearisome ere

Ever a month was passed away?

The reddest lips that ever have kissed,
The brightest eyes that ever have shone,
May pray and whisper, and we not list,
Or look away, and never be missed,
Ere yet ever a month is gone.

Gillian's dead, God rest her bier,
How I loved her twenty years syne!
Marian's married, but I sit here

Alone and merry at Forty Year,

Dipping my nose in the Gascon wine.

SORROWS OF WERTHER.

7ERTHER had a love for Charlotte

WE

Such as words could never utter Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter.

Charlotte was a married lady,

And a moral man was Werther, And, for all the wealth of Indies, Would do nothing for to hurt her.

So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,

Till he blew his silly brains out,

And no more was by it troubled.

Charlotte, having seen his body

Borne before her on a shutter,

Like a well-conducted person,

Went on cutting bread and butter.

82

With a sweet perplexity,

And a mystery pretty,

Threading through Threadneedle Street, Trots the little KITTY.

What was my astonishment-
What was my compunction,
When she reached the Offices
Of the Didland Junction!

Up the Didland stairs she went,
To the Didland door, Sir;
Porters, lost in wonderment,
Let her pass before, Sir.

“Madam,” says the old chief Clerk, "Sure we can't admit ye."

"Where's the Didland Junction deed ? " Dauntlessly says KITTY.

"If you doubt my honesty,

Look at my receipt, Sir."

Up then jumps the old chief Clerk,
Smiling as he meets her.

KITTY at the table sits

(Whither the old Clerk leads her),

"I deliver this," she says,

"As my act and deed, Sir."

When I heard these funny words
Come from lips so pretty,
This, I thought, should surely be
Subject for a ditty.

What! are ladies stagging it?

Sure, the more's the pity; But I've lost my heart to her,— Naughty little KITTY.

THE LAST OF MAY.

IN REPLY TO AN INVITATION DATED ON THE IST.

fate's benevolent award,

BY should I survive the day,

I'll drink a bumper with my lord
Upon the last of May.

That I may reach that happy time
The kindly gods I pray,

For are not ducks and peas in prime
Upon the last of May ?

At thirty boards, 'twixt now and then,

My knife and fork shall play;

But better wine and better men

I shall not meet in May.

And though, good friend, with whom I dine,

Your honest head is grey,

And, like this grizzled head of mine,

Has seen its last of May;

Yet, with a heart that's ever kind,

A gentle spirit gay,

You've spring perennial in your mind,

And round you make a May!