Then having made a hearty meal, And here some sage, with moral spleen, may say, "This Haman should have driv'n the dog away, "Th' effects of vice the blameless should not bear, "And folks that are not drunkards lose their hare." All this, we grant, is very true- Not so unfashionably good, Besides, he knew, whate'er the plan Hence, though of mirth a lucky store, And thus he said, or seem'd to say : "How will the people fret and scold, "The denoument must needs be droll- Haman kept post to wait the sleeper's leisure. Had eas'd him in his load behind. Haman drew near, with eager mien, And now we need but mention one thing more, Tho' drunk, our porter hit at last the door, THE JEWESS AND HER SON. PINDAR. POOR Mistress Levi had a luckless son, In short, he broke his pretty Hebrew neck; The mother was distracted, raving, wild; Shriek'd, tore her hair, embrac'd and kiss'd her child; T Afflicted ev'ry heart with grief around. She cast about her eyes in thought profound; "Sher, I am de móder of de poor Chew lad, THE RAZOR SELLER. PINDAR. A FELLOW, in a market town, As every man would buy,-with cash and sense. A country bumpkin the great offer heard: No matter if the fellow be a knave, "Provided that the razors shave: "It certainly will be a monstrous prize." So home the clown with his good fortune went, Smiling, in heart and soul content, And quickly soap'd himself to ears and eyes. Being well lather'd from a dish or tub, 'Twas a vile razor!-then the rest he tried All were impostors Ah," Hodge sigh'd, "I wish my eighteen-pence within my purse." In vain to chase his beard, and bring the Graces, swore, Brought blood, and danc'd, blasphem'd, and made wry faces, And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o'er. His muzzle form'd of opposition stuff, Hodge sought the fellow-found him and begun, Perhaps, Master Razor Rogue, to you 'tis fun, "That people flay themselves out of their lives; "You rascal! for an hour have I been grubbing, "Giving my scoundrel whiskers here a scrubbing, "With razors, just like oyster-kaives; "Sirrah! I tell you you're a knave, "To cry up razors that can't shave!" "Friend," quoth the razor-man, " I'm not a knave, "As for the razors you have bought, "Upon my soul I never thought "That they would shave." "Not think they'd shave!" quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; "What were they made for then, you dog?" he cries. "Made!" quoth the fellow, with a smile to sell!" MOSES MOUSETRAP. A TALE. ANONYMOUS. SEQUESTER'D in a silent vale tale; Who chose his habitation where But little of the grosser fare, That turns to flesh and blood. His solitary life he led Within a church unseen! That he was better taught than fed Scarce once a year a scanty dole, The starv'ling from the chancel stole, For why? few thither went to hear, The evangelic word; And fewer more than once a year, To banquet with the Lord. Yet oft the godly vicar toil'd, As oft, 'twould seem, the devil foil'd Heav'n's champion still, the good man strove And much discours'd of heaven above, And eke of hell below |