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There may be hands I may not Kemble will play or Kean, who

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makes the soul

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Some fret themselves to death,

With Whig and Tory jar;
I don't care which is in,
So I have my cigar.

Sir John requests my vote,
And so does Mr. Marr;
I don't care how it goes,
So I have my cigar.

Some want a German row,
Some wish a Russian war,
I care not- I'm at peace-
So I have my cigar.

I never see the Post,

I seldom read the Star, The Globe I scarcely heed, So I have my cigar.

They tell me that bank stock Is sunk much under par, It's all the same to me,

So I have my cigar.

Honors have come to men,
My juniors at the bar,
No matter - I can wait,
So I have my cigar.

Ambition frets me not;

A cab, or glory's car Are just the same to me, So I have my cigar.

I worship no vain gods,

But serve the household Lar;
I'm sure to be at home,
So I have my cigar.

I do not seek for fame,
A general with a scar;
A private let me be,

So I have my cigar.

To have my choice among The toys of life's bazaar, The deuce may take them all, So I have my cigar.

Some minds are often tost

By tempests, like a Tar;

I always seem in port,
So I have my cigar.

The ardent flame of love, My bosom cannot char; I smoke, but do not burn, So I have my cigar.

They tell me Nancy Low

Has married Mr. R-: The jilt! but I can live, So I have my cigar.

FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY. BEN BATTLE wa was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms: But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms!

Now, as they bore him off the field,
Said he, "Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg,

And the Forty-second Foot!"

The army surgeons made him limbs:
Said he, "They're only pegs:
But there's as wooden members
quite,

As represent my legs!"

Now Ben he loved a pretty maid,
Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devours
When he'd devoured his pay!

But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off!

"O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat,
Should be more uniform!"

Said she, "I loved a soldier once, For he was blithe and brave; But I will never have a man With both legs in the grave!

"Before you had those timber toes, Your love I did allow,

But then, you know, you stand upon Another footing now!"

"O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! For all your jeering speeches,

At duty's call I left my legs
In Badajos's breaches!"

But as they fetched a walk one day,
They met a press-gang crew;

And Sally she did faint away,
Whilst Ben he was brought to.

"Why, then," said she, "you've lost The boatswain swore with wicked

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One end he tied around a beam,
And then removed his pegs,
And, as his legs were off, of course,
He soon was off his legs!

And there he hung till he was dead
As any nail in town,-

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For though distress had cut him up, Says he, "They've only taken him

It could not cut him down!

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A carpenter by trade,

To the Tender ship, you see;" "The Tender ship," cried Sally

Brown,

What a hard-ship that must be!

"Oh! would I were a mermaid

now,

For then I'd follow him;

But, oh! - I'm not a fish-woman, And so I cannot swim.

"Alas! I was not born beneath

The Virgin and the Scales,

And he fell in love with Sally Brown, So I must curse my cruel stars,

That was a lady's maid.

And walk about in Wales."

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How hard, when those who do not wish to lend, thus lose, their books,
Are snared by anglers, folks that fish with literary Hooks,-
Who call and take some favorite tome, but never read it through;-
They thus complete their set at home, by making one at you.

I, of my "Spenser" quite bereft, last winter sore was shaken;
OfLamb" I've but a quarter left, nor could I save my "Bacon;"
And then I saw my "Crabbe," at last, like Hamlet, backward go;
And, as the tide was ebbing fast, of course I lost my "Rowe."

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My "Mallet" served to knock me down, which makes me thus a talker; And once, when I was out of town, my "Johnson" proved a Walker." While studying, o'er the fire, one day, my " Hobbes," amidst the smoke, They bore my "Colman" clean away, and carried off my "Coke."

They picked my "Locke," to me far more than Bramah's patent worth, And now my losses I deplore, without a "Home on earth.

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If once a book you let them lift, another they conceal,

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For though I caught them stealing Swift," as swiftly went my "Steele."

66 Hope" " is not now upon my shelf, where late he stood elated;
But what is strange my "Pope" himself is excommunicated.
My little "Suckling" in the grave is sunk to swell the ravage;
And what was Crusoe's fate to save, 'twas mine to lose,-a "Savage."

Even "Glover's" works I cannot put my frozen hands upon;
Though ever since I lost my "Foote," my "Bunyan" has been gone.
My "Hoyle" with "Cotton" went oppressed; my "Taylor," too, must fail;
To save my
Goldsmith" from arrest, in vain I offered "Bayle."

66

I" Prior" sought, but could not see the "Hood" so late in front;
And when I turned to hunt for "Lee," oh! where was my "Leigh Hunt" ?
I tried to laugh, old care to tickle, yet could not "Tickle" touch?
And then, alack! I missed my “Mickle,”—and surely Mickle's much.

'Tis quite enough my griefs to feed, my sorrows to excuse,

To think I cannot read my “Reid," nor even use my “Hughes;"
My classics would not quiet lie, a thing so fondly hoped;
Like Dr. Primrose, I may cry, my "Livy" has eloped.

My life is ebbing fast away; I suffer from these shocks,
And though I fixed a lock on "Gray," there's gray upon my locks;
I'm far from Young." am growing pale, I see my Butler" fly;
And when they ask about my ail, 'tis "Burton," I reply.

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They still have made me slight returns, and thus my griefs divide;
For, oh! they cured me of my Burns," and eased my Akenside."
But all I think I shall not say, nor let my anger burn,

66

For, as they never found me "Gay," they have not left me Sterne."

FRANCIS HOPKINSON.

THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS. GALLANTS, attend and hear a friend Trill forth harmonious ditty; Strange things I'll tell which late befell

In Philadelphia city.

'T was early day, as poets say,

Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on a log of wood, And saw a thing surprising.

As in amaze he stood to gaze,

The truth can't be denied, sir, He spied a score of kegs or more Come floating down the tide, sir.

A sailor too, in jerkin blue,

This strange appearance viewing, First rubbed his eyes, in great surprise,

Then said some mischief's brewing.

These kegs, I'm told, the rebels hold
Packed up like pickled herring;
And they're come down t' attack the

town,

In this new way of ferrying.

The soldier flew, the sailor too,

And scared almost to death, sir, Wore out their shoes, to spread the

news,

And ran till out of breath, sir.

Now up and down throughout the

town

Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here, and others there,
Like men almost distracted.

Some fire cried, which some denied,
But said the earth had quakèd;
And girls and boys, with hideous
noise.

Ran through the streets half naked.

From sleep Sir William starts upright,
Awaked by such a clatter;

He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries,
For God's sake, what's the matter?

At his bedside he then espied

Sir Erskine at command, sir;
Upon one foot he had one boot,

And th' other in his hand, sir.
"Arise, arise!" Sir Erskine cries;

"The rebels-more's the pity— Without a boat are all afloat, And ranged before the city. "The motley crew, in vessels new, With Satan for their guide, sir, Packed up in bags, or wooden kegs, Come driving down the tide, sir. "Therefore prepare for bloody war; These kegs must all be routed, Or surely we despised shall be, And British courage doubted."

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