ILLUSTRATION OF A BORE.

If ever you've seen a gay party,
Relieved from the pressure of Ned-
How instantly joyous and hearty

They've grown when the damper was fled-
You may guess what a gay piece of work,
What delight to champagne it must be,
To get rid of its bore of a cork,

And come sparkling to you, love, and me!

A SPECULATION.

Of all speculations the market holds forth,
The best that I know for a lover of pelf

Is, to buy ****** up, at the price he is worth,

And then sell him at that which he sets on him

self.

SCEPTICISM.

ERE Psyche drank the cup that shed

Immortal life into her soul,

Some evil spirit pour'd, 'tis said,
One drop of Doubt into the bowl-

Which, mingling darkly with the stream,
To Psyche's lips-she knew not why-
Made even that blessed nectar seem

As though its sweetness soon would die.

Oft, in the very arms of Love,

A chill came o'er her heart-a fear That Death would, even yet, remove Her spirit from that happy sphere.

“Those sunny ringlets," she exclaim'd, Twining them round her snowy fingers"That forehead, where a light, unnamed, "Unknown on earth, for ever lingers

"Those lips, through which I feel the breath "Of Heaven itself, whene'er they sever

VOL. VIII.

4

"Oh! are they mine, beyond all death"My own, hereafter and for ever?

"Smile not-I know that starry brow,
"Those ringlets and bright lips of thine,
“Will always shine as they do now-
"But shall I live to see them shine?"

In vain did Love say, "Turn thine

eyes

"On all that sparkles round thee here

"Thou 'rt now in Heaven, where nothing dies, "And in these arms-what canst thou fear?"

In vain the fatal drop, that stole
Into that cup's immortal treasure,
Had lodged its bitter near her soul,
And gave a tinge to every pleasure.

And, though there ne'er was rapture given
Like Psyche's with that radiant boy,

Hers is the only face in Heaven

That wears a cloud amid its joy.

FROM THE FRENCH.

Of all the men one meets about,

There's none like JACK-he's every where : At church-park-auction-dinner-rout— Go where and when you will, he's there. Try the West End, he's at your back— Meets you, like Eurus, in the EastYou're call'd upon for "How do, JACK?" One hundred times a-day at least. A friend of his one evening said,

66

As home he took his pensive way,

Upon my soul, I fear JACK 's dead

“I've seen him but three times to-day!"

ROMANCE.

I HAVE a story of two lovers, fill'd

With all the pure romance, the blissful sadness, And the sad, doubtful bliss, that ever thrill'd Two young and longing hearts in that sweet madness;

But where to choose the locale of my

vision

In this wide, vulgar world—what real spot
Can be found out, sufficiently elysian

For two such perfect lovers, I know not.
Oh, for some fair FORMOSA, such as he,
The young Jew,* fabled of, in the Indian Sea,
By nothing but its name of Beauty known,
And which Queen Fancy might make all her own,
Her fairy kingdom-take its people, lands,
And tenements into her own bright hands,
And make, at least, one earthly corner fit
For Love to live in-pure and exquisite !

A JOKE, VERSIFIED.

"COME, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life, "There's no longer excuse for thus playing the rake"It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife.""Why, so it is, father,-whose wife shall I take?”

* Psalmanazar.