The Humorous Poetry of the English Language; from Chaucer to Saxe Part 92

So slowly you walk, and so quickly you eat, You should march with your mouth, and devour with your feet.

ON TWO BEAUTIFUL ONE-EYED SISTERS

Give up one eye, and make your sister's two, Venus she then would be, and Cupid you.

THE PER-CONTRA, OR MATRIMONIAL BALANCE

How strange, a deaf wife to prefer!

True, but she's also dumb, good sir.

EPIGRAMS S. T. COLERIDGE.

AN EXPECTORATION, Or Spienetic Extempore, on my joyful departure from the city of Cologne.

As I am rhymer, And now, at least, a merry one, Mr. Mum's Eudesheimer, And the church of St. Geryon, Are the two things alone, That deserve to be known, In the body-and-soul-stinking town of Cologne.

EXPECTORATION THE SECOND.

In Clon, the town of monks and bones, And pavements fanged with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches, I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well defined and separate stinks!

Ye nymphs that reign o'er sewers and sinks, The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne.

But tell me, nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?

TO A LADY, Offended by a sportive observation that women have no souls.

Nay, dearest Anna, why so grave?

I said you had no soul,'tis true, For what you ARE you can not HAVE; 'Tis _I_ that have one since I first had you.

AVARO.

[STOLEN FROM LESSING.]

There comes from old Avaro's grave A deadly stench--why sure they have Immured his SOUL within his grave.

BEELZEBUB AND JOB.

Sly Beelzebub took all occasions To try Job's constancy and patience.

He took his honor, took his health, He took his children, took his wealth, His servants, oxen, horses, cows-- But cunning Satan did not take his spouse.

But Heaven, that brings out good from evil, And loves to disappoint the devil, Had predetermined to restore Twofold all he had before; His servants, horses, oxen, cows-- Short-sighted devil, not to take his spouse!

SENTIMENTAL.

The rose that blushes like the morn, Bedecks the valleys low: And so dost thou, sweet infant corn, My Angelina's toe.

But on the rose there grows a thorn, That breeds disastrous woe: And so dost thou, remorseless corn, On Angelina's toe.

AN ETERNAL POEM.

Your poem must ETERNAL be, Dear sir, it can not fail, For 'tis incomprehensible, And wants both head and tail.

BAD POETS.

Swans sing before they die--'t were no bad thing; Did certain persons die before they sing.

TO MR. ALEXANDRE, THE VENTRILOQUIST.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

Of yore, in Old England, it was not thought good, To carry two visages under one hood: What should folks say to YOU? who have faces so plenty, That from under one hood you last night showed us twenty!

Stand forth, arch deceiver, and tell us in truth, Are you handsome or ugly, in age or in youth?

Man, woman or child--a dog or a mouse?

Or are you, at once, each live thing in the house?

Each live thing did I ask?--each dead implement too, A workshop in your person--saw, chisel, and screw!

Above all, are you one individual?--I know You must be, at least, Alexandre and Co.

But I think you're a troop, an a.s.semblage, a mob, And that I, as the sheriff, should take up the job: And, instead of rehearsing your wonders in verse, Must read you the riot-act, and bid you disperse!

THE SWALLOWS.

R. BRINSLEY SHERIDAN.

The Prince of Wales came into Brooke's one day, and complained of cold, but after drinking three gla.s.ses of brandy and water, said he felt comfortable.

The prince came in and said't was cold, Then put to his head the rummer, Till SWALLOW after SWALLOW came, When he p.r.o.nounced it summer.

FRENCH AND ENGLISH.

ERSKINE

The French have taste in all they do, Which we are quite without; For Nature, that to them gave GOUT To us gave only gout.