The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,
Enlarged the former narrow bounds,

And added length-to solemn sounds,

With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both-divide the crown;
He-raised a mortal-to the skies;
She drew an angel down.

FAITHLESS SALLY BROWN.

(THOMAS HOOD.)

Young Ben he was a nice young man, a carpenter by trade;

And he fell in love with Sally Brown, that was a lady's

maid.

But as they fetch'd a walk one day, they met a press

gang crew;

And Sally she did faint away, whilst Ben he was brought to.

The Boatswain swore with wicked words, enough to shock a saint,

66

That though she did seem in a fit, 'twas nothing but a feint. Come, girl," said he, "hold up your head, he'll be as good as me;

For when your swain is in our boat, a boatswain he will be."

So when they'd made their game of her, and taken off her elf,

She roused, and found she only was a-coming to herself. "And is he gone, and is he gone?" she cried, and wept outright:

"Then I will to the water side, and see him out of sight."

A waterman came up to her, "Now, young woman," said he,

"If you weep on so, you will make eye-water in the sea.”

"Alas! they've taken my beau Ben to sail with old Benbow;"

And her woe began to run afresh, as if she'd said Gee woe!

Says he, “They've only taken him to the Tender ship, you see:"

"The Tender ship," cried Sally Brown, "What a hardship that must be !

O! would I were a mermaid now for then I'd follow him; But oh!--I'm not a fish-woman, and so I cannot swim.

"Alas! I was not born beneath the Virgin and the Scales, So I must curse my cruel stars, and walk about in Wales." Now Ben had sail'd to many a place that's underneath the world;

But in two years the ship came home, and all her sails were furl'd.

But when he call'd on Sally Brown, to see how she got on, He found she'd got another Ben, whose Christian name was John.

"O Sally Brown, O Sally Brown, how could you serve me so?

I've met with many a breeze before, but never such a blow."

Then reading on his 'bacco-box, he heaved a bitter sigh, And then began to eye his pipe, and then to pipe his eye. And then he tried to sing "All's Well," but could not though he tried ;

His head was turn'd, and so he chew'd his pigtail till he died.

His death, which happen'd in his berth, at forty-odd befell: They went and told the sexton, and the sexton toll'd the bell.

INVECTIVE AGAINST MR CORRY.-1800.

(HENRY GRATTAN.)

[A duel, in which Mr Corry was wounded in the arm, was the sequel to this speech. The immediate provocation of the speech was a remark from Corry that Grattan, instead of having a voice in the councils of his country, should have been standing as a culprit at her bar.]

MR SPEAKER, Sir, has the gentleman done? Has he completely done? He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. There was scarce a word that he uttered, that was not a violation of the privileges of the house. But I did not call him to order. Why? Because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without being unparliamentary. But before I sit down, I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think myself justifiable in treating with silent contempt anything which might fall from the honourable member; but there are times when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in the magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the honourable gentleman laboured under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man.

me.

The right honourable gentleman has called me "an unimpeached traitor." I ask, why not "traitor," unqualified by any epithet? I will tell him; it was because he dared not! It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not the courage to give the blow! I will not call him villain, because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy councillor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. But I say he is one who has abused the

privilege of Parliament and freedom of debate, to the uttering language, which, if spoken out of the House, I should answer only with a blow! I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech; whether a privy councillor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow! He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false ! Does the honourable gentleman rely on the report of the House of Lords for the foundation of his assertion? If he does, I can prove to the committee there was a physical impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to answer to any man for my conduct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by a false glare of courage or not.

I have returned, not, as the right honourable member has said, to raise another storm,—I have returned to discharge an honourable debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a great reward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that Constitution, of which I was the parent and founder, from the assassination of such men as the honourable member and his unworthy associates. They are corrupt-they are seditious-and they, at this very moment are in a conspiracy against their country! I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand for impeachment or trial! I dare accusation! I defy the honourable gentleman! I defy the Government! I defy their whole phalanx!—let them come forth ! I tell the ministers I shall neither give them quarter nor take it! I am here to lay the shattered remains of my constitution on the floor of this House, in defence of the liberties of my country.

MARINO FALIERO, DOGE OF VENICE.

(LORD BYRON.)

SCENE III.-The Court of the Ducal Palace; the outer gates are shut against the people.-The DOGE enters in his ducal robes, in procession with the Council of Ten and other Patricians, attended by the Guards, till they arrive at the top of the "Giants' staircase" (where the Doges took the oaths); the Executioner is stationed there with his sword.-On arriving, a Chief of the Ten takes off the ducal cap from the Doge's head.

Doge. So now the Doge is nothing, and at last

I am again Marino Faliero :

'Tis well to be so, though but for a moment.

Here was I crown'd, and here, bear witness, Heaven!
With how much more contentment I resign

That shining mockery, the ducal bauble,

Than I received the fatal ornament.

One of the Ten. Thou tremblest, Faliero!

Doge.

"Tis with age, then.

Benintende. Faliero! hast thou aught further to commend, Compatible with justice, to the senate?

Doge. I would commend my nephew to their mercy, My consort to their justice; for methinks

My death, and such a death, might settle all

Between the state and me.

Ben.

They shall be cared for;

Even notwithstanding thine unheard-of crime.
Doge. Unheard of! ay, there's not a history
But shows a thousand crown'd conspirators
Against the people; but to set them free,

One sovereign only died, and one is dying.

Ben. And who were they who fell in such a cause ? Doge. The King of Sparta and the Doge of VeniceAgis and Faliero!

Thou may'st;

But recollect the people are without,
Beyond the compass of the human voice.

N