Halloo! they follow the poor

beast,

Mat, Dick, Tom, Bob, and Walter.

VIII.

Old Lewis, ('twas his evil day)

Stood trembling in his shoes;
The Ox was his-what could he say?
His legs were stiffen'd with dismay,
The Ox ran o'er him 'mid the fray,
And gave him his death's bruise.

IX.

The frighted beast ran on—but here,
(No tale, though in print, more true is,)
My muse stops short in mid career—
Nay, gentle reader! do not sneer!
I cannot choose but drop a tear,
A tear for good old Lewis !

The frighted beast ran through the town;
All follow'd, boy and dad,

Bull-dog, parson,' shopman, clown:

The publicans rush'd from the Crown, "Halloo! hamstring him! cut him down!" They drove the poor Ox mad.

XI.

Should you a rat to madness teaze,
Why even a rat may plague you;
There's no philosopher but sees

Bull-dog, parson.] The comma, we suspect, has been (lazily) substituted for "and", to avoid offence.

That rage and fear are one disease-
Though that may burn and this may freeze,
They're both alike the ague.

XII.

And so this Ox, in frantic mood,

Faced round like any bull:

The mob turn'd tail, and he pursued,

Till they with heat and fright were stew'd,
And not a chick of all this brood

But had his belly full.

XIII.

Old Nick's astride the beast, 'tis clear

Old Nicholas, to a tittle!

But all agree, he'd disappear,

Would but the parson venture near,
And through his teeth,' right o'er the steer,
Squirt out some fasting spittle.

XIV.

Achilles was a warrior fleet,

The Trojans he could worry:

Our parson too was swift of feet,
But show'd it chiefly in retreat;
The victor Ox scour'd down the street,
The mob fled hurry-scurry.

1 According to the superstition of the West-Countries, if you meet the Devil, you may either cut him in half with a straw, or force him to disappear by spitting over his horns.-C.

XV.

Through gardens, lanes, and fields new plough'd,

Through his hedge, and through her hedge, He plunged and toss'd and bellow'd loud, Till in his madness he grew proud,

To see this helter-skelter crowd,

That had more wrath than courage.

XVI.

Alas! to mend the breaches wide
He made for these poor ninnies,
They all must work, whate'er betide,
Both days and months, and pay beside,
Sad news for avarice and for pride,)
A sight of golden guineas!

XVII.

But here once more to view did pop
The man that kept his senses;

And now he cried-"Stop, neighbours! stop;
The Ox is mad! I would not swop,
No! not a school-boy's farthing-top,
For all the parish-fences.

XVIII.

"The Ox is mad! Ho! Dick, Bob, Mat!

What means this coward fuss ?

Ho! stretch this rope across the plat!
"Twill trip him up: or if not that,
Why, damme! we must lay him flat :-
See, here's my blunderbuss."

XIX.

"A lying dog! just now he said The Ox was only glad!

Let's break his presbyterian head!"

"Hush!" quoth the sage, "you've been misled ;

No quarrels now-let's all make head :---
You drove the poor Ox mad."

XX.

As thus I sat, in careless chat,
With the morning's wet newspaper,
In eager haste, without his hat,
As blind and blundering as a bat,
In came that fierce aristocrat,
Our pursy woollen-draper.

XXI.

And so my Muse perforce drew bit;
And in he rush'd and panted :-

"Well, have you heard?" No, not a whit.
"What, ha'nt you heard?" Come, out with it!—
"That Tierney votes for Mister Pitt,
And Sheridan's recanted!"

PARLIAMENTARY OSCILLATORS.

LMOST awake? Why what is this, and whence,

O ye right loyal men, all undefiled ?

Sure, 'tis not possible that common sense

Has hitch'd her pulleys to each heavy eye-lid?

Yet wherefore else that start, which discomposes The drowsy waters lingering in your eye? And are you really able to descry

That precipice three yards beyond your noses?

Yet flatter you I cannot, that your wit

Is much improved by this long loyal dosing; And I admire, no more than Mr. Pitt,

Your jumps and starts of patriotic prosing

Now cluttering to the Treasury cluck, like chicken,

Now with small beaks the ravenous bill op

posing;

With serpent-tongue now stinging, and now licking,

Now semi-sibilant, now smoothly glozing

Now having faith implicit that he can't exr, Hoping his hopes, alarm'd with his alarms; And now believing him a sly enchanter,

Yet still afraid to break his brittle charms,

Lest some mad devil suddenly unhampering, Slap-dash! the imp should fly off with the steeple,

On revolutionary broom-stick scampering.soft-headed and soft-hearted people,

O ye

If you can stay so long from slumber free, My muse shall make an effort to salute 'e: For lo! a very dainty simile

Flash'd sudden through my brain, and 'twill just suit 'e!