Begging for mercy,-which I gave to them.
Once as a god, I sat with Victory

On the same throne, which proudly then o'erlook'd
The fairest part of Europe's spacious fields !
Now am I fallen indeed! yes-fallen indeed!
Yet I shall rise again, on Eagle's wings.-
Avaunt Despair!

Still I will live; 'tis cowardice to die,-
I've conquer'd others,-I'll subdue myself,-
Which is far nobler: never shall Despair
Reign over me, or crush me to the ground.
I'll arm myself against Adversity,

And, like this fearless rock whereon I stand,
I'll dash her roaring billows back again;

Or rush to meet the tide,-then mount the waves,
And tread them under-foot. I am prepar'd,
Let the worst come that can,-I am prepar'd,—
My spirit is wrapt up in triple brass,
And I'll sit down in sweet tranquillity.

THE EMPEROR OF RUSSIA.

From Lord Byron's Poem, entitled " the Age of Bronze.”
"Behold the coxcomb Czar,

The autocrat of waltzes and of war!
As eager for a plaudit as a realm,
And just as fit for flirting as the helm ;
A Calmuck beauty with a Cossack wit,

And generous spirit, when 'tis not frost-bit;
Now half dissolving to a liberal thaw,

But hardened back whene'er the morning's raw;
With no objection to true liberty,

Except that it would make the nations free.
How well the Imperial Dandy prates of peace,

How fain, if Greeks would be his slaves, free
Greece !"

THE INCURABLE.

O doctor, doctor, I am come
As far as 'tis from here to home,
To tell you my condition :
I've got the itch, I've got the gout,
My shins are bruis'd, I've sprain'd my foot;
I want a good physician.

The surgeons say, my liver's bad,
My pulse is quick, my heart is sad,
My stomach's out of order;
I've got a hobbling in my gait,
My words I cannot speak them strait,—
Oh, tell me my disorder !

My hands are weak, my sight is dim,
And now and then my head will swim,
My neighbours won't insure me;
But the worst plague of all my life,
I've lately caught-a scolding wife :
Oh! doctor, can you cure me?

THE COURT OF ALDERMEN AT FISHMONGERS' HALL.

Is that dace or perch?
Said Alderman Birch;
I take it for herring,
Said Alderman Perring.
This jack's very good,

Said Alderman Wood;

But its bones might a man slay,

Said Alderman Ansley.

I'll butter what I get,

Said Alderman Heygate. Give me some stew'd carp, Said Alderman Thorp. The roe's dry as pith,

Said Aldermen Smith. Don't cut so far down, Said Alderman Brown; But nearer the fin,

Said Alderman Glyn. I've finish'd, i' faith man :

Said Alderman Waithman :

And I too, i'fatking,

Said Alderman Atkins. They've crimp'd this cod drolly, Said Alderman Scholey;

'Tis bruised at the ridges.

Said Alderman Brydges. Was it caught in a drag? Nay, Said Alderman Magnay. 'Twas brought by two men,

Said Alderman Ven

ables Yes, in a box,

:

Said Alderman Cox.

They care not how fur 'tis,

Said Alderman Curtis. From air kept, and from sun, Said Alderman Thompson; Pack'd neatly in straw,

Said Alderman Shaw : In ice got from Gunter, Said Alderman Hunter. This ketchup iš sour,

Said Alderman Flower; Then steep it in claret,

Said Alderman Garret.

TO PRINCE TALLEYRAND.

Sev'n cities boasted Homer's birth 'tis true,
But twenty boast of not producing you.

IRISH ANGLING:

An Irishman fishing one day in the Liffey,
Which runs close by Dublin's great city so fine,
A smart show'r of rain falling, Pat, in a jiffey,
Crept under the arch of the bridge with his line.

"That's never the way to accomplish your wishes,"
Cries Dermot, "the devil a bite 'll you get-”
"Sure my honey," cries Pat, "don't you know
that the fishes

"Will swim under here, to keep out of the wet."

ON THE RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN IN 1815.

To Spain, entranc'd in golden dreams,
Fair freedom comes, and tempting seems
The heavenly apparition :

But ah, when walking, Spain essay'd
To hold the all-enchanting maid,
She clasp'd the Inquisition.

TO-MORROW.

To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what far country does to-morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrives?
Beyond the Indies does this 'morrow live?

'Tis so far fetch'd, this 'morrow that I fear,
"Twill be both old and very dear.

To-morrow I will live, the fool does say,
To-day's too late-the wise liv'd yesterday.

MISS STEPHENS.

On hearing Miss Stephens sing, "Angels ever bright and fair.” Whilst you invoke the angels' care, In notes so soft, so sweet, so rare, I tremble lest you should be heard, And they should take you at your word.

TO THE FLEAS IN SEVEN DIALS.

Hence ye disturbers of my sleep,
No more my weary body bite;
Begone, you rogues, your distance keep,
And let me snore away the night.

Will you suck the crimson flood,

You hopping, jumping, ugly crew? Will nothing please you but my blood, And let that flow with torment too?

Then take your fill, you thirsty elves,
'Tis with my life tho' to my sorrow;
Drink, scoundrels, drink, and burst yourselves,
That I may have some sleep to-morrow.

THE SWORD.

"This emblem of all miseries and crimes,The robber's tool, that breaks the rich man's lock,The murderer's master-key to sleeping hearts,—