Not this world's wedlock-gross, gallant,
But pure,—as when Amram married his aunt.
Our ages differ—but who would count
One's natural sinful life's amount,
Or look in the register's vulgar page
For a regular twice-born Christian's age,
Who, blessed privilege! only then
Begins to live when he's born again.
And, counting in this way,—let me see,—
I myself but five years old shall be,
And dear Magan, when the event takes place,
An actual new-born child of grace,-
Should Heaven in mercy so dispose,-
A six-foot baby, in swaddling clothes.
Finding myself, by some good fate,
With Mr. Magan left tête-à-tête,
Had just begun,-having stirr'd the fire,
And drawn my chair near his,-to inquire
What his notions were of Original Sin,
When that naughty Fanny again bounced in;
And all the sweet things I had got to say
Of the Flesh and the Devil, were whisk'd away!
Much grieved to observe that Mr. Magan
Is actually pleased and amused with Fan!
What charms any sensible man can see
In a child so foolishly young as she,-
But just eighteen, come next May-day,
With eyes, like herself, full of nothing but play,—
Is, I own, an exceeding puzzle to me.
Dark comrade of my path, while earth and sky
Thus weĉ their charms, in bridal light array'd,
Wy, in the bright hour, wak'st thou ever nigh,
Blackening my footsteps with thy length of shade—
Dark comrade. WHY?
Thon mimic Shape that, 'mid these flowery scenes,
Glidest beside me o'er each sunny spot,
Sadd'ning them as thou goest,-say, what means
So dark an adjunct to so bright a lot,—
Grim goblin, WHAT?
Still, as to pluck sweet flowers I bend my brow,
Thou bendest, too,—then risest when I rise;—
Say, mute mysterious Thing! how is't that thou
1etween me and those blessed skies,— shadow, How?
And now, to this nymph of the seraph-like eye,
Letting out, as you see, my first floor next the sky. (1)
But, alas! nothing's perfect on earth,-even she,
This divine little gipsy, does odd things sometimes;
Talks learning looks wise (rather painful to see),
Prints already in two county papers her rhymes;
And raves-the sweet, charming, absurd little dear!
About Amulets, Bijous, and Keepsakes, next year,
In a manner which plainly bad symptoms portends
Of that Annual blue fit, so distressing to friends;
A fit which, though lasting but one short edition,
Leaves the patient long after in sad inanition.
However, let's hope for the best,-and, meanwhile,
Be it mine still to bask in the niece's warm smile;
While you, if you 're wise, Dick, will play the gallant
(Uphill work, I confess) to her Saint of an Aunt.
Think, my boy, for a youngster like you, who 've a lack,
Not indeed of rupees, but of all other specie,
What luck thus to find a kind witch at your back,
An old goose with gold eggs, from all debts to release ye! Never mind, though the spinster be reverend and thin, What are all the Three Graces to her Three per Cents.? While her acres !-oh Dick, it don't matter one pin
How she touches the affections, so you touch the rents; And Love never looks half so pleased as when, bless him, he Sings to an old lady's purse "Open, Sesame."
By the way, I've just heard, in my walks, a report,
Which, if true, will ensure for your visit some sport.
(1) That floor which a facetious garreteer called "Le premier en pescendant du ciel."
'T is rumour'd our Manager means to bespeak
The Church tumblers from Exeter Hall for next week;
And certainly ne'er did a queerer or rummer set
Throw, for the amusement of Christians, a summerset.
"T is fear'd their chief "Merriman," C―ke, cannot come,
Being call'd off, at present, to play Punch at home; (')
And the loss of so practised a wag in divinity,
Will grieve much all lovers of jokes on the Trinity;-
His pun on the name Unigenitus, lately
Having pleased Robert Taylor, the Reverend, greatly. (*)
'T will prove a sad drawback, if absent he be,
As a wag Presbyterian 's a thing quite to see;
And, among the Five Points of the Calvinists, none of 'em
E'er thought of making a point of wit one of 'em.
But ev❜n though deprived of this comical elf,
We've a host of buffoni in Murtagh himself,
Who, of all the whole troop is chief mummer and mime,
As C-ke takes the Ground Tumbling, he the Sublime; (3)
And of him we 're quite certain, so, pray, come in time.
(') See the Dublin Evening Post, of the 9th of this month (July), for an account of a scene which lately took place at a meeting of the Synod of Ulster, in which the performance of the above-mentioned part by the personage in question appears to have been worthy of all his former reputation in that line.
(2) "All are punsters if they have wit to be so; and therefore when an Irishman has to commence with a Bull, you will naturally pronounce it a bull. (A laugh.) Allow me to bring before you the famous Bull that is called Unigenitus, referring to the only-begotten Son of God.' -Report of the Rev. Doctor's Speech, June 20, in the Record News
) In the language of the play-bills, "Ground and Lofty Tum
FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MRS. ELIZABETH
JUST in time for the post, dear, and monstrously busy,
With godly concernments,—and worldly ones, too;
Things carnal and spiritual mix'd, my dear Lizzy,
In this little brain till, bewilder'd and dizzy,
"Twixt heaven and earth, I scarce know what I do.
First, I've been to see all the gay fashions from town,
Which our favourite Miss Gimp for the spring has had down.
Sleeves still worn (which I think is wise) à la folle,
Charming hats, pou de soie,-though the shape rather droll.
But you can't think how nicely the caps of tulle lace,
With the mentonnières, look on this poor sinful face;
And I mean, if the Lord in his mercy thinks right,
To wear one at Mrs. Fitz-wigram's to-night.
The silks are quite heavenly:-I'm glad, too, to say,
Gimp herself grows more godly and good every day;
Hath had sweet experience-yea, ev'n doth begin
To turn from the Gentiles, and put away sin,—
And all since her last stock of goods was laid in.
What a blessing one's milliner, careless of pelf,
Should thus "walk in newness" as well as one's self!
So much for the blessings, the comforts of Spirit
I've had since we met, and they 're more than I merit!
Poor, sinful, weak creature in every respect,
Though ordain'd (God knows why) to be one of the Elect.
But now for the picture's reverse.-You remember
That footman and cook-maid I hired last December;
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