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Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again,
* But then her face,
Alone it hangs
She was an only child-her name Ginevra,
Just as she looks there in her bridal dress,
And, in the lustre of her youth, she gave
Great was the joy; but at the nuptial feast, When all sat down, the bride herself was wanting. Nor was she to be found! Her father cried,
'Tis but to make a trial of our love !"
Weary of his life,
Full fifty years were passed, and all forgotten, When on an idle day, a day of search Mid the old lumber in the gallery, That mouldering chest was noticed ; and 'twas said By one as young, as thoughtless as GINEVRA “ 'Why not remove it from its lurking-place ?" 'Twas done as soon as said ; but on the way It burst, it fell; and lo, a skeleton, With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone, A golden clasp,$clasping a shred of gold. All else had perished --save a wedding-ring, And a small seal, her mother's legacy, Engraven with a name, the name of both, ^ GINEVRA."
There then had she found a grave! Within that chest had she concealed herself, Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy;.. When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down for ever!
VAT YOU PLEASE.....!! Some years ago when civil faction
Raged like a fury through the fields of Gauļ ; sit And children, in the general distraction, i t '
Were taught to curse as soon as they could squall. When common sense in common folks was dead, 18.
And murder showed a love of nationality, And France, determined not to have a head,
Decapitated all the higher class,
To put folks more on an equality;
And liberty in Bonnet-rouge might pass
Bidding soup-maigre an abrupt farewell,
And hither came pell-mell, Sans cash, sans clothes, and almost sans every thing! Two Messieurs who about this time came over,
Half-starved, but toujours gai,
(No weasels e'er were thinner,). Trudged up to town from Dover,
Their slender store exhausted in the way,
Extremely puzzled how to get a dinner. From morn till noon, from noon till dewy eve,
Our Frenchmen wandered on their expedition ; Great was their need, and sorely did they grieve, a
Stomach and pocket in the same condition! At length, by mutual consent they parted, no And different ways on the same errand started.
This happened on a day most dear
To Epicures, when general use -
Necessity's the mother of invention,
And our sly Frenchman at a table seated. The ready waiter at his elbow stands“ Sir, will you favour me with your commands, We've roast and boiled, Sir, choose you those or these" “ Sare! you are very good, Sare! Vat you please !"
Quick at the word,
But pounced pell-mell upon it,
Exulting in the merry-thought that won it !
“Pay, pay, ma Foi! . I call for noting, Sare-pardonnez moi ! You bring me vat you call your goose, your cheese, You ask-a me to eat I tell you, Vat you please !" Down came the master, each explained the case, The one with cursing, t'other with grimace,
But Boniface who dearly loved a jest,
And finding nothing could be done, (you know,
Of a bad bargain made the best,
And Briton-like forgave a fallen foe,
Laughed heartily and let him go. Our Frenchman's hunger thus subdued, Away he trotted in a merry mood; When turning round the corner of a street, Who, but his countryman he chanced to meet ! To him, with many a shrug and many a grin,, He told how he had taken Jean Bullin ! Fired with the tale, the other licks his chops, Makes his congee, and seeks this shop of shops. Entering, he seats himself, just at his ease, " What will you take, Sir ?"_" Vat you please !" The waiter looked as pale as Paris plaster, And, upstairs running, thus addressed his Master : “ These poor Mounseers come over sure in pairs; Sir, there's another 'vat you please!' down stairs." This made the honest Landlord rather crusty, . Too much of one thing—the proverb's somewhat musty. Once to be done, his anger didn't touch,
But when a second time they tried the treason,
It made him crusty, Sir, and with good reason, You would be crusty were you done so much. There is a kind of instrument Which greatly helps a serious argument, · And which, when properly applied, occasions Some most unpleasant tickling sensations! 'Twould make more clumsy folks than Frenchmen skip, "Twould strike you presently,ma stout Horsewhip.