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Dear madam, give me leave forsk
You,- how your husband is?
Why, Mr. Snooks has lost his looks,
He's got the rheumatiz! .
With a " How do you do,
, Ma'am ?" « How are you? ...
How dear the things all áre !"
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam'd Soho Bazaar. And help us to diddle all London. (Song.)
“ Tom I see that girl, how well she walks !
But faith, I must confess,
In such a style of dress."
. (looking through his glass)
With a " How do you do,
How dear the things all are ?"
Thus beaux and belles together meet,
And thus they spend the day;
And then they walk away. :
The better way by far
With a “How do you do
How dear the things all are l",
: You hear them say,
Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xaviere
Yield, yield, ye youths! ye yeomen, yield your yell; THE SEASON OUT OF TOWN. Zeno's, Zampatee's, Zoroaster's zeal,
Attracting all, arms against acts appealt
NAMES OF PLACES,
For the Table Book. And wailing to the agitated shores.
The names of towns, cities, or villages, The fields are dotted with manure-the sheep
which terminate in ter, such as Chester, In unshorn wool, streak'd with the shepherd's red,
Caster, Cester, show that the Romans, in Their undivided peace and friendship keep,
their stay among us, made fortifications Shaking their bells, like children to their bed..
about the places where they are now situ. The roads are white and miry-waters run .; ated. In the Latin tongue Castra is the With violence through their tracks—and sheds, that name of these fortifications such are Case Rowers
tor, Chester, Doncaster, Leicester; Don In summer graced, are open to the sun,
signifies a mountain, and Ley, or ‘Lei, Which shines in noonday's horizontal hours. ground widely overgrown.. . Frost claims the night; and morning, like a bride,
In our ancient tongue wich, or wick, Forth from her chamber glides; mist spreads her
means a place of refuge, and is the termi
nation of Warwick, Sandwich, Greenwich, vest; The sunbeams ride the clouds till eventide,
Woolwich, &c. And the wind rolls them to ethereal rest.
Thorp, before the word village was bor
rowed from the French, was used in its Sleet, shine, cold, fog, in portions fill the tiine ;
stead, and is found at the end of many Like hope, the prospect cheers; like breath it fades;
towns' names. Life grows in seasons to returning prime,
Bury, Burgh, or Berry, signifies, metaAnd beauty rises from departing shades.
phorically, a town having a wall about it, January, 1827.
sometimes a high, or chief place.
Wold means a plain open country,
Combe, a valley between two hills.. THE SIEGE OF BELGRADE. Knock, a hill.
Hurst, a woody.place. Addressed to the Admirers of Alliteration,
Magh, a field. and the Advocates of Noisy Numbers.
Innes, an island.
Worth, a place situated between two Ardentem aspicio atque arrectis auribis asto.-Virgil. rivers.
Ing, a tract of meadows, An Austrian army awfully arrayed,
Minster is a contraction of monastery, Boldly by battery besieged Belgrade: Cossack commanders cannonading comie,
Sam Sam's Son. Dealing destruction's devastating doom; Every endeavour engineers essay, For fame, for fortune fighting-furious fray!
For the Table Book.
The snowdrop, rising to its infant height,
Looks like a sickly child upon the spot Labour low levels loftiest, longest lines,
Of youdg nativity, regarding not Men march 'mid mounds, 'mid moles, 'mid murder
The air's caress of melody and light ous mines :
Beam'd from the east, and soften'd by the bright Now noisy noxious numbers notice nought
Effusive flash of gold :-the willow stoops Of outward obstacles, opposing ought,
And muses, like a bride without her love, Poor patriots !-partly purchased--partly pressid, On her own shade, which lies on waves, and droops Quite quaking, quickly, “Quarterquarter!" quest;
Beside the natal trunk, nor looks aboveReason returns, religious right redounds,
The precipice, that torrents cannot move, Suwarrow stops such sanguinary sounds.
Leans o'er the sea, and steadfast as a rock, Truce to thee, Turkey, triumph to thy train,
Of dash and cloud unconscious, bears the rude. Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine!
Continuous surge, the sounds and echoes mock: Vanish, vain victory! vanish, victorý vain !
Thus Mental Thought enduring, wears in solitude, Why wish we warfare? Wherefore welcome were 1827.
Some years ago, the fine old font of the wardens during whose reign venality or ancient parish church of Harrow-on-the stupidity effected the removal of its prehill was torn from that edifice, by the cessor. If there be any persons in that “ gentlemen of the parish," and given out parish who either venerate antiquity, or deto mend the roads with. The feelings of sire to see “right things in right places,” one parishioner (to the honour of the sex, a it is possible that, by a spirited representafemale) were outraged by this act of paro- tion, they may arouse the indifferent, and chial Vandalism; and she was allowed to shame the ignorant to an interchange; and preserve it from destruction, and place it in force an expression of public thanks to the a walled nook, at the garden front of her lady whose good taste and care enabled it house, where it still remains. By her to be effected. The relative situation and obliging permission, a drawing of it was misappropriation of each font is a stain on made ihe summer before last, and is the parish, easily removable, by employing engraved above.
a few men and a few pounds to clap the On the exclusion of Harrow font from paltry usurper under the spout of the good the church, the parish officers put up the lady's house, and restore the noble original marble wash - hand - basin-stand - looking from that degrading destination, to its thing, which now occupies its place, in- rightful dignity in the church.. scribed with the pames of the church
When I first Mention'd the business to her all alone, Poor Soul, she blush'd, as if already she Had done some harm by hearing of me speak; Whilst from her pretty eyes two fountains ran So true, so native, down her fairest cheeks; As if she thought herself obliged to ery, 'Cause all the world was not so good as she..
Proportion in Pity. There must be some proportion still to pity Between ourselves and what we moan: 'tis hard For Men to be ought sensible, how Moats Press Flies to death. Should the Lion, in His midnight walks for prey, heat some poor worms Complain for want of little drops of dew, What pity could that generous creature have (Who never wanted small things) for those poor Ambitions ? yet these are their concernments, And but for want of these they pine and die.
No. III. [From the “ Rewards of Virtue," a Comedy,
by John Fountain, printed 1661.] Success in Battle not always attributable to the General.
-- Generals oftimes famous grow By valiant friends, or cowardly enemies; Or, what is worse, by some mean piece of chance. Truth is, 'tis pretty to observe How little Princes and great Generals Contribute oftentimes to the fame they win. How oft hath it been found, that noblest minds With two short arms, have fought with fatal stars ; And have endeavour'd with their dearest blood To mollify those diamonds, where dwell The fate of kingdoms; and at last have faln By vulgar hands, unable now to do More for their cause than die; and have been lost, Among the sacrifices of their swords ; No more remember'd than poor villagers, Whose ashës sleep among the common flowers, That every meadow wears : whilst other men With trembling hands have caught a victory, And on pale foreheads wear triumphant bays. Besides, I have thought A thousand times ; in times of war, when we Lift up our hands to heaven for victory; Suppose some virgin Shepherless, whose soul Is chaste and clean as the cold spring, where she Quenches all thirsts, being told of enemies, That seek to fright the long-enjoyed Peace Of our Arcadia hence with sound of drums, And with hoarse trumpets' warlike airs to drown The harmless music of her oaten reeds; Should in the passion of her troubled sprite Repair to some small fane (such as the Gods Hear poor folks from), and there on humble knees Lift up her trembling hands to holy Pan, And beg his helps: 'tis possible to think, That Heav'n, which holds the purest vows most rich, May not permit her still to weep in vain, But grant her wish, (for, would the Gods not hear The prayers of poor folks, they'd ne'er bid them pray); And so, in the next action, happeneth out (The Gods still using means) the Enemy May be defeated. The glory of all this Is attributed to the General, And none but he's spoke loud of for the act; While she, from whose so unaffected tears His laurel sprung, for ever dwells unknown.*
Modesty a bar lo preferment. Sure 'twas his modesty. He might have thriven, Much better possibly, had his ambition Been greater much. They oftimes take more paips Who look for Pins, thân those who find out Stars.
Innocence. vindicated at last. Heav'n may awhile correct the virtuous; Yet it will wipe their eyes again, and make Their faces whiter with their tears. Innocence Conceal'd is the Stoln Pleasure of the Gods, Which never ends in shame, as that of Men Doth oftimes do ; but like the Sun breaks forth, When it hath gratified another world ; And to our unexpecting eyes appears More glorious thro’ its late obscurity.
Dying for a Beloved Person.
# Is it possible that Cowper might have remembered this sentiment in his description of the advantages which the world, that scorns him, may derive from the noiseless hours of the contemplative man?
Perhaps she owes
There is a gust in Death, when 'tis for Love,
Urania makes a mock assignation with certainly make their escape, had not the the King, and substitutes the Queen in her bearer of cushion and pot, aware of the place. The King describes the supposed invincible aversion which young women meeting to the Confident, whom he had em have to be saluted by young men, preventployed to solicit for his guilty passion. ed their flight by locking the door, and
putting the key in his pocket. The dance Pyrrhus, I'll tell thee all. When now the night then begins. Grew black enough to hide a sculking action ;
The young man advances to the fiddler, And Heav'n had ne'er an eye unshut to see
drops a penny in the pot, and gives it to Her Representative on Earth creep 'mongst
one of his companions; cushion then Those poor defenceless worms, whom Nature left
dances round the room, followed by pot, An humble prey to every thing, and no
and when they again reach the fiddler, the Asylum but the dark; I softly stole
cushion says in a sort of recitative, accomTo yonder grotto thro' the upper walks,
panied by the music, “ This dance it will And there found my Urania. But I found her,
no farther go." I found her, Pyrrhus, not a Mistress, but
The fiddler, in return, sings or says, for A Goddess rather; which made me now to be
it partakes of both, “ I pray, kind sir, why No more her Lover, but Idolater. She only whisper'd to me, as she promised,
say you so ?”
The answer is, “ Because Joan SanderYet never heard I any voice so loud; And, tho' her words were gentler far than those
son won't come to." That holy priests do speak to dying Saints,
“ But,” replies the fiddler, “ she must Yet never thunder signified so much.
come to, and she shall come to, whether And (what did more impress whate'er she said)
she will or no.” Methought her whispers were my injured Queen's,
The young man, thus armed with the Her manner just like her's! and when she urged, authority of the village musician, reoomAmong a thousand things, the injury
mences his dance round the room, but stops I did the faithful'st Princess in the world;
when he comes to the girl he likes best, Who now supposed me sick, and was perchance and drops the cushion at her feet; she puts Upon her knees offering up holy vows
her penny in the pewter pot, and kneels For him who mock'd both Heav'n and her, and was down with the young man on the cushion, Now breaking of that vow he made her, when
and he salutes her. With sacrifice he call’d the Gods to witness :
When they rise, the woman takes up the When she urged this, and wept, and spake so like cushion, and leads the dance, the man folMy poor deluded Queen, Pyrrhus, I trembled ;
lowing, and holding the skirt of her gown; Almost persuaded that it was her angel
and having made the circuit of the room, Spake thro' Urania's lips, who for her sake
they stop near the fiddler, and the same Took care of me, as something she much loved.
dialogue is repeated, except, as it is now It would be long to tell thee all she said,
the woman who speaks, it is John SanderHow oft she sigh’d, how bitterly she wept:
son who won't come to, and the fiddler's But the effect--Urania still is chaste;
mandate is issued to him, not her. And with her chaster lips hath promised to
The woman drops the cushion at the Invoke blest Heav'n for my intended sin.
feet of her favourite man; the same cereC. L.
mony and the same dance are repeated, till every man and woman, the pot bearer
last, has been taken out, and all have THE CUSHION DANCE. danced round the room in a file.
The pence are the perquisite of the fidFor the Table Book.
dler. The concluding dance at a country wake,
H. Ņ. or other general meeting, is the “ Cushion
P.S. There is a description of this dance Dance ;” and if it be not called for when in Miss Hutton's “ Oakwood Hall." the company are tired with dancing, the fiddler, who has an interest in it which will be seen hereafter, frequently plays the tune
The Cushion DANCE. to remind them of it. A young man of the company leaves the room; the poor young
For the Table Book. women, uninformed of the plot against
. “Saltabamus.” them, suspecting nothing ; but he no sooner
The village-green is clear and dight returns, bearing a cushion in one hand and Under the starlight sky; a pewter pot in the other, than they are Joy in the cottage reigns to night, aware of the mischief intended, and would And brightens every eye: