LINES TO —.

Yes; I have seen the man you nam'd;
And ah! how GREAT and LITTLE too;
I would not be so doubly fam'd,

For all the riches of Peru.

Fortune, in frolic, bless'd the dunce,
She on him rain'd a golden shower:
Now, nearly all, who scorn'd him once,

THIS LESS THAN NOTHING DO ADORE!

Pray, what's his head?-an useless thing,
Where old, primeval chaos reigns;
Scarce two ideas can he bring-

But plainly shew a lack of brains!

Yet, he is current with the world,

As coin just issued from the mint; And bearing folly's flag, unfurl'd, Like fools behold their glory in't!

Tis thus is made a common cause,
Lest sense and merit should prevail;

For, dunce with dunce must shake HIS PAWS,
Or soon their every hold would fail.

And what's his heart?-tis poor and mean,

No fellow feeling warms his breast; But, at Religion's shrine he's seen,

And SINGS and PRAISES with the rest!

So 'tis he cheats the wondering throng,
Which laud his saintship to the skies;
A hypocrite the first among,

Tho' often hail'd with gladsome eyes!

For, fortune haply bless'd the dunce,-
She on him rain'd a golden shower;
Now, nearly all, who scorn'd him once,

THIS LESS THAN NOTHING DO ADORE!

A TRAVESTY SONG

WRITTEN FOR THE 4th OF JULY, 1819.

Come, friends and foes,

Come, altogether,

And let us now be jolly;

Dont care a fig how party goes,

And neither mind nor wind, nor weather,

This surely would be folly!

Bring, bring the cup

Of sparkling wine, all,

Let's soak our Clay most soundly,—

And ne'er to British sway give up,

Tho' ministers should whine, all,
And rave away confound'dly!

Health to the man,

Who sat at helm

Of good Ship, Constitution ;

WI

"age yells from Albion ran,

Astounding thro' our frighten'd realm!
And acted like a true son !

POETIC EFFUSIONS.

83

And next, in right,

Let Orleans hear

Her Hero ever praised ;

His warlike arm was dread in fight,
Sav'd many a widow's tear,

His country's glory raised!

And now, to all,
Each noble soul,

For battle-deeds of glory,

May honors thick as hailstones fall,

Their fame extend from pole to pole,

And ever live in story!

But stop--once more,

Let's fill the Bowl;

Full health to James Monroe too;

The mantle our old Pilot bore

Doth now inspire his gallant soul,

HE'S HEARTY AND HE'S TRUE TOO!

84

POETIC EFFUSIONS.

LINES

OCCASIONED BY A CONSIDERATION OF THE MOURNFUL EXIT OF THE VELOCIPEDE, FROM AN OVERWEENING PARENTAL SOLICITUDE FOR A BANTLING BEGAT, SOMEWHAT IN ITS OWN LIKENESS, CALLED THE VELOCIMANIPEDE!

Alas! is then thy promise fled,
Low in the dust thy honors laid?—
Full soon thy morning sun went down,
Well ere it reach'd a splendid noon!
But long thy merits shall survive,
Thou, in thy 'manipede, shalt live,—
An offspring worthy of thy loins,
Whence all the parent's glory shines-
Thee unborn ages yet shall praise,
Bless thee for Manipedian days ;—
Give thus to each a deathless fame,
And spread afar thy mongrel name!
O, how immortal must we call ye,—
Both child and parent sprung from folly!