My gold in his purse dropped sweet,
My iron o'er his lawn I threw,

And I laughed at the calm of his snug retreat,
With a merry whistle, whew!

4. The

peer, from his old gray towers-
His forefathers' proud domain-
Looked down on my new-born powers
With a lordly and high disdain;
But he started to see my breath
His ancestral oaks bedew;

And I greeted his ear, his window beneath,
With a piercing whistle, whew!

5. The Scot on his wild hill stood,
Defying my onward course,
And, pointing to mountain and flood,
He dared me a passage to force;
But my arch o'er the gulf I flung,

And the startled heathcock flew,

As the caverned breast of the lone hills rung
With a tearing whistle, whew!

6. Poor Pat from his bog looked round,
And mocked my advancing tread ;

But I taught him to train the deceitful ground,
And his little ones blessed me for bread;
For famine forsook his door,

When I made him my servant true,
And wherever I passed on before,

To make way for the whistle, whew!

7. When I came to the crowded town,
They said I must stand outside;

But from high on their roofs I looked down,
And they stared at my giant stride:

Then hiding, with cunning art,

I tunneled in darkness through,

And came rushing up in the city's heart,
With a fierce whiz, whistle, whew!

8. The old royal mail dashed on,

With its coachman and guard in state, And its foaming steeds, and its bugle-blower In its glory and pride elate;

To a creeping "bus" it shrunk,

As

my steam-cloud rose in view,

And its haughty guard, to a cabman sunk,
Came to meet the whistle, whew!

9. "Tis good that I pass along:

From the smoke of the city I bear
A pale and o'erwearied throng

To fields and the fresh sweet air.
'Tis good, for my path is fraught
With boons for the country too-
I waken men's spirits to life and thought
With my stirring whistle, whew!

10. I fly like the tempest's wing,

Yet the timid have nought to fear

A great but gentle thing,

An infant might check my career.

11. Away, away, away!

Who will not follow me? who?

Peasant and prince the shrill summons obey
Of my proud whiz, whistle, whew!

SHERIDAN AND THE HEIR.

1. A NUMEROUS party was assembled at the mansion of a northern squire. Among them were Sheridan and a young, wealthy heir, belonging to a neighboring county. This youth prided himself on the accident of his birth, and on his consequent acquisition of riches.

2. During the early part of the day, the stripling sneered at poverty, and spoke slightingly of authors, actors, and other classes of the community who afford occupation and amusement to thousands who would otherwise be devoured by ennui, or seek excitement in vicious pleasures. Sheridan was justly displeased at the want of tact, taste, and feeling in the rich young man, and waited for an opportunity of making him feel the edge of his keen rebuke.

3. At dinner were twenty guests. Sheridan sat on the left hand, at the bottom of the table; the youth on the right at the top; so that they were at opposite angles; and the whole party were so placed as to witness and hear what passed from either of them. The youth talked much of all that concerned him. He gave accounts of the wonderful leaping of his favorite hunter, of the distance his new double-barreled gun killed a wild duck, of the extraordinary stanchness of a crossbred setter, of his dexterity in catching salmon with a single hair, of his prowess in London, &c., &c., to the number of eighteen different circumstances.

4. After the removal of the second course, silence ensued. Sheridan availed himself of the moment, and thus addressed the youth, his voice insuring a continuation of the prevailing silence: "Sir, from the distance at which I sit from you, I did not hear with accuracy the whole of your interesting anecdotes. Permit me to ask you whose hunter performed those extraordinary leaps." The youth replied: "Mine, sir." Sheridan continued: "But whose gun killed so far!" Again the youth answered: "Mine, sir." "Whose setter was so stanch ?"

"Mine, sir," repeated the victim.

"Who caught the salmon,

sir ?" "I did," was faintly answered.

5. Sheridan was inexorable, and continued, with the utmost politeness of manner, until he had exhausted the whole eighteen items, and then dryly said: "So, you were the chief actor in every anecdote, and the author of them all. Is it not impolitic to depise your own professions?" The youth left the mansion the following day, and was cured of his illiberality and egotism.

POETRY AND POVERTY.

1. 'Twas sung of old, how one Amphion
Could, by his verses, tame a lion;
And by his strange enchanting tunes,
Make bears and wolves dance rigadoons;
His songs could call the timber down,
And form it into house or town;
But it is plain, now in these times,
No house is raised by poet's rhymes;
They for themselves can only rear
A few old castles in the air.

2.

Poor are the brethren of the Bays,
Down from high strains, to ekes and ayes;
The muses too, are virgins yet,

And may be, till they portions get;

Yet, still the doating rhymer dreams,

And sings of Helicon's bright streams;
But Helicon, for all his clatter,
Yields nothing, but insipid water.

3. Yet, ev'n a-thirst, he sweetly sings
Of Nectar, and Elysian springs.
The grave physician, with his physic,
Like death, despatches him that is sick;

4.

In shady groves the muses play,
And love, in flow'ry meads, to stray
Pleased with a bleaky barren ground,
Where rip'ning fruits are never found.
But then, some say, you purchase fame,
And gain a never dying name;
Great recompense for real trouble,

To be rewarded with a bauble!

Thus soldiers, who in deadly battle
Get bangs and blows, like butchers' cattle,
Are paid with fame and wooden leg,
And gain a pass with leave to beg!

THE FLY.-OLDYS.

OCCASIONED BY A FLY DRINKING OUT OF THE AUTHOR'S CUP.

1. Busy, curious, thirsty fly!

Drink with me, and drink as I!

Freely welcome to my cup,

Couldst thou sip and sip it

up:

Make the most of life you may;
Life is short and wears away!

2. Both alike are mine and thine,
Hastening quick to their decline!
Thine's a summer, mine no more,
Though repeated to threescore!
Threescore summers, when they're gone,
Will appear as short as one!