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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,

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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!'

addressed to an ass, and beginning, 'I hail thee, food of our ancestors,' somebody asked Mr. T. Alluding to an early poem of Mr. Coleridge's the House, 'that we must return at last to the

brother!'

2 A certain country gentleman having said in

'what food the gentleman meant P'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);

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

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

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 Review.

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The Benthamite hears-amazed that ghosts

Could be such fools—and away he posts, A patriot still! Ah no, ah noGoddess of Freedom, thy scrip is low, And, warm and fond as thy lovers are, Thou triest their passion when under par.

The Benthamite's ardour fast decays, By turns he weeps, and swears, and prays,

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Nothing in doors, or out of doors, But endless Catholics and Corn!

And wishes the d-1 had crescent and Never was such a brace of pests

cross,

Ere he had been forced to sell at a loss. They quote him the stock of various nations,

But, spite of his classic associations, Lord! how he loathes the Greek

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While Ministers, still worse than either,

Skilled but in feathering their nests, Bore us with both, and settle neither.

So addled in my cranium meet

Popery and Corn, that oft I doubt Whether, this year, 'twas bonded wheat Or bonded papists they let out.

Here landlords, here polemics, nail you, Armed with all rubbish they can rake

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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 SALMAGUNDIAN 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 à tittle

Of truth in aught they heard before; For they gained by Periwinkles little, 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 tillFor 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 went
To open his Locust Parliament !

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

A CASE OF LIBEL.

A CERTAIN old Sprite, who dwells

below

(Twere a libel, perhaps, to mention where),

Came up incog., some winters ago,

To try, for a change, the London air.

So well he looked, and dressed, and talked,

And hid his tail and his horns so handy,

You'd hardly have known him, as he walked,

From --, or any other Dandy.

(N.B.-His horns, they say, unscrew; So he has but to take them out of the socket,

And-just as some fine husbands doConveniently clap them into his pocket.)

In short, he looked extremely natty, And even contrived to his own great wonder

By dint of sundry scents from Gattie, To keep the sulphurous hogo under.

And so my gentleman hoofed about,

Unknown to all but a chosen few At White's and Crockford's, where, no doubt,

He had many post-obits falling due.

Alike a gamester and a wit,

At night he was seen with Crockford's crew;

At morn with learned dames would sit

So passed his time 'twixt black and blue.

Some wished to make him an M.P.;

But, finding W-lks was also one, he Was heard to say 'he'd be d―d if he Would ever sit in one house with Johnny.'

At length, as secrets travel fast,

And devils, whether he or she, Are sure to be found out at last,

The affair got wind most rapidly.

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