The PIOUS PAINTER.

THE SECOND PART.

The Painter so pious all praise had acquired ́
For defying the malice of Hell;

The Monks the unerring resemblance admired:
Not a Lady lived near but her portrait desired
From one who succeeded so well..

One there was to be painted the number among Of features most fair to behold;

The country around of fair Marguerite rung, Marguerite she was lovely and lively and young, Her husband was ugly and old..

O Painter avoid her! O Painter take care!"

For Satan is watchful for you!

Take heed lest you fall in the Wicked One's sna

The net is made ready, O Painter beware

Of Satan and Marguerite too.

She seats herself now, now she lifts up her head,
On the Artist she fixes her eyes;

The colours are ready, the canvas is spread,
He lays on the white, and he lays on the red,
And the features of beauty arise.

He is come to her eyes, eyes so bright and so blue!
There's a look that he cannot express ;..
His colours are dull to their quick-sparkling hue,
More and more on the Lady he fixes his view,
On the canvas he looks less and less.

In vain he retouches, her eyes sparkle more,
And that look that fair Marguerite gave!
Many Devils the Artist had painted of yore,
But he never attempted an Angel before,..
St. Anthony help him and save!

He yielded alas! for the truth must be told,
To the Woman, the Tempter, and Fate.
It was settled the Lady so fair to behold,
Should elope from her husband so ugly and old,
With the Painter so pious of late!

Now Satan exults in his

vengeance compleat, To the Husband he makes the scheme known, Night comes and the lovers impatiently meet, Together they fly, they are seiz'd in the street, And in prison the Painter is thrown.

With Repentance, his only companion, he lies,
And a dismal companion is she!

On a sudden he saw the Old Serpent arise,
Now

you villainous dauber! Sir Beelzebub cries, You are paid for your insults to me!

But my tender heart it is easy to move

If to what I propose you agree;

That picture,.. be just! the resemblance improve, Make a handsomer portrait, your chains I'll remove, And you shall this instant be free.

Overjoyed, the conditions so easy he hears,
I'll make you quite handsome! he said,
He said, and his chain on the Devil appears,
Releas'd from his prison, releas'd from his fears,
The Painter is snug in his bed.

At morn he arises, composes his look;

And proceeds to his work as before;

The people beheld him, the culprit they took; They thought that the Painter his prison had broke, And to prison they led him once more.

They open the dungeon ;.. behold in his place
In the corner old Beelzebub lay.

He smirks and he smiles and he leers with a grace,
That the Painter might catch all the charms of his face
Then vanish'd in lightning away.

Quoth the Painter, I trust you'll suspect me no more,
Since you find my assertions were true.

But I'll alter the picture above the Church-door,
For I never saw Satan so closely before,
And I must give the Devil his due.

ST. MICHAEL'S CHAIR,

AND WHO SAT THERE.

Merrily merrily rung the bells,

The bells of St. Michael's tower,

When Richard Penlake and Rebecca his wife
Arrived at the church-door.

Richard Penlake was a chearful man,

Chearful and frank and free,

But he led a sad life with Rebecca his wife,
For a terrible shrew was she.

Richard Penlake a scolding would take,
Till patience availed no longer,

Then Richard Penlake his crab-stick would take,
And shew her that he was the stronger.