Running like one of Human kind
Dogged by fleet Bailiffes close behind-
As if he had not payde his Bill
For Ven'son, or was owing still
For his two Hornes, and soe did get
Over his Head and Ears in Debt ;-
Wherefore he strives to paye his Waye
With his long Legges the while he maye:-
But he is chased, like Silver Dish,

As well as anye Hart may wish
Except that one whose Heart doth beat
So faste it hasteneth his feet ;-

And runninge soe, he holdeth Death
Four Feet from him,-till his Breath
Faileth, and slacking Pace at last,
From runninge slow he standeth faste,
With hornie Bayonettes at baye,
To baying Dogges around, and they
Pushing him sore, he pusheth sore,
And goreth them that seeke his Gore,
Whatever Dogge his H ne doth rive
Is dead-as sure as he's live!

Soe that courageous Hart doth fight
With Fate, and calleth up his might-
And standeth stout that he maye fal
Bravelye, and be avenged of all,
Nor like a Craven yeeld his Breath
Under the Jawes of Dogges and Death!

DECEMBER AND MAY.

"Crabbed Age and Youth cannot live together."

I.

SHAKSPEARE

SAID Nestor, to his pretty wife, quite sorrowful one day,

'Why, dearest, will you shed in pearls those lovely cyes away? You ought to be more fortified;" "Ah, brute, be quiet, do,

I know I'm not so fortyfied, nor fiftyfied as you!

II.

Oh, men are vile deceivers all, as I have ever heard,

You'd die for me you swore, and I-I took you at your word.
I was a tradesman's widow then-a pretty change I've made;
To live, and die the wife of one, a widower by trade!"

III.

"Come, come, my dear, these flighty airs declare, in sober truth,
You want as much in age, indeed, as I can want in youth;
Besides, you said you liked old men, though now at me you huff."
"Why, yes," she said, "and so I do—but you're not old enough!'

IV.

"Come, come, my dear, let's make it up, and have a quiet hive;
I'll be the best of men,—I mean,-I'll be the best alive!
Your grieving so will kill me, for it cuts me to the core."—
"I thank ye, Sir, for telling me-for now I'll grieve the more!"

A WINTER NOSEGAY.

O, WITHER'D winter Blossoms,
Dowager-flowers,—the December vanity.
In antiquated visages and bosoms,—
What are ye plann'd for,

Unless to stand for

Emblems, and peevish morals of humanity?

There is my Quaker Aunt,

A Paper-flower,—with a formal border

No breeze could e'er disorder,

Pouting at that old beau-the Winter Cherry,

A pucker'd berry ;

1

And Box, like tough-liv'd annuitant,—
Verdant alway-

From quarter-day even to quarter-day;
And poor old Honesty, as thin as want,
Well named-God-wot;

Under the baptism of the water-pot,
The very apparition of a plant ;
And why,

Dost hold thy head so high,

Old Winter-Daisy ;

Because thy virtue never was infirm,
Howe'er thy stalk be crazy?

That never wanton fly, or blighted worm,
Made holes in thy most perfect indentation?
'Tis likely that sour leaf,

To garden thief,

Forcepp'd or wing'd, was never a temptation ;-
Well,-still uphold thy wintry reputation ;
Still shalt thou frown upon all lovers' trial;
And when, like Grecian maids, young maids of ours
Converse with flow'rs,

Then thou shalt be the token of denial.

Away! dull weeds,

Born without beneficial use or needs!

Fit only to deck out cold winding-sheets;
And then not for the milkmaid's funeral bloom,

Or fai Fidele's tomb

To tantalise,-vile cheats!

Some prodigal bee, with hope of after-sweets,
Frigid, and rigid,

As if ye never knew
One drop of dew,

Or the warm sun resplendent;
Indifferent of culture and of care,

Giving no sweets back to the fostering air,

Churlishly independent

I hate ye, of all breeds!

Yea, all that live so selfishly-to sell,
And not by interchange of kindly deeds—
Hence! from my shelf!

EQUESTRIAN COURTSHIP.

I.

It was a young maiden went forth to ride,
And there was a wooer to pace by her side;
His horse was so little, and hers so high,
He thought his angel was up in the sky.

II.

His love was great tho' his wit was small;
He bade her ride easy—and that was all.
The very horses began to neigh,—
Because their betters had nought to say.

III.

They rode by cim, and they rode by oak, They rode by a church-yard, and then he spoke :"My pretty maiden, if you'll agree

You shall always amble through life with me."

IV.

The damsel answer'd him never a word,

But kick'd the gray mare, and away she spurr'd.

The wooer still follow'd behind the jade,

And enjoy'd like a wooer-the dust she made,

They rode thro' moss, and they rode thro' moor,The gallant behind and the lass before :—

At last they came to a miry place,

And there the sad wooer gave up the chase.

VI.

Quoth he, "If my nag were better to ride,
I'd follow her over the world so wide.

Oh, it is not my love that begins to fail,

But I've lost the last glimpse of the gray mare's tail!"

A TRUE STORY

Of all our pains, since man was curst,

I mean of body, not the mental,
To name the worst, among the worst,
The dental sure is transcendental;
Some bit of masticating bone,
That ought to help to clear a shelf,
But let its proper work alone,
And only seems to gnaw itself;
In fact, of any grave attack
On victual there is little danger,
'Tis so like coming to the rack,
As well as going to the manger.

Old Hunks-it seem'd a fit retort
Of justice on his grinding ways—
Possess'd a grinder of the sort,
That troubled all his latter days.
The best of friends fall out, and so
His teeth had done some years ago,

Save some old stumps with ragged root,

And they took turn about to shoot;

If he drank any chilly liquor,

They made it quite a point to throb;

But if he warm'd it on the hob,

Why then they only twitch'd the quicker.

One tooth--I wonder such a tooth

Had never kill'd him in his youth