THE SAILOR’S CONSOLATION

ONE night came on a hurricane,

The sea was mountains rolling,

When Barney Buntline turned his quid,

And said to Billy Bowling:

“A strong nor’-wester’s blowing, Bill—

Hark! don’t ye hear it roar now?

Lord help ’em! how I pities all

Unhappy folks on shore now!

“Foolhardy chaps who live in town—

What danger they are all in,

And now are quaking in their beds,

For fear the roof should fall in.

Poor creatures! how they envies us,

And wishes, I’ve a notion,

For our good luck, in such a storm

To be upon the ocean.

“But as for them who’re out all day,

On business from their houses,

And late at night are coming home,

To cheer the babes and spouses,

While you and I, Bill, on the deck

Are comfortably lying,

My eyes! what tiles and chimney-pots

About their heads are flying!

“And very often have we heard

How men are killed and undone

By overturns of carriages,

By thieves and fires in London.

We know what risks all landsmen run,

From noblemen to tailors;

Then, Bill, let us thank Providence

That you and I are sailors!”

William Pitt.

VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER
ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR DURING
ONE OF THE DEBATES OF THE
FIRST REFORMED PARLIAMENT

SLEEP, Mr. Speaker; ’tis surely fair,

If you mayn’t in your bed, that you should

in your chair;

Louder and longer still they grow,

Tory and Radical, Aye and No;

Talking by night and talking by day.

Sleep, Mr. Speaker—sleep while you may!

Sleep, Mr. Speaker; slumber lies

Light and brief on a Speaker’s eyes;

Fielden or Finn in a minute or two

Some disorderly thing will do;

Riot will chase repose away.

Sleep, Mr. Speaker—sleep while you may!

Sleep, Mr. Speaker; Sweet to men

Is the sleep that cometh but now and then;

Sweet to the weary, sweet to the ill,

Sweet to the children that work in the mill.

You have more need of repose than they.

Sleep, Mr. Speaker—sleep while you may!

Sleep, Mr. Speaker; Harvey will soon

Move to abolish the sun and the moon;

Hume will no doubt be taking the sense

Of the House on a question of sixteen pence;

Statesmen will howl, and patriots bray.

Sleep, Mr. Speaker—sleep while you may!

Sleep, Mr. Speaker, and dream of the time,

When loyalty was not quite a crime;

When Grant was a pupil in Canning’s school,

And Palmerston fancied Wood a fool.

Lord, how principles pass away!

Sleep, Mr. Speaker—sleep while you may!

Winthrop M. Praed.