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, His owners and drivers stood round in amaze- For every description of job-work so ready! One driver (whom Ned might have 'hailed' as a 'brother')1 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, Declared that an 'over production' of thistles 2— 'There, let him alone, and the fit will soon cease Some looked at his hoofs, and, with learned grimaces, But others who gabbled a jargon half Gaelic, 6 Exclaimed, Hoot awa, mon, you're a' gane astray,'- Meanwhile the poor Neddy, in torture and fear, At length, a plain rustic, whose wit went so far 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! "Tis my fortune to know a lean Benthamite spinster- To see her, ye Gods, a new Number devouring- 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- Ay, and-lest she should ever again lift her head I would hang round her neck her own darling Review. 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, 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 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 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 The Salmagundians once were rich, For, every year, the Revenue1 From their periwinkles larger grew; 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 and 10, men! 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 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, 'Oh fie! oh fie!' was now the cry, 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. |