MR. PUNCH'S ANTI-LABOUR CONGRESS.

There is a slumber here that softlier falls

Than forty-winks where dull, dull Bills they pass;

Oft have I drowsed within those dreary walls,

Where brays the pertinacious party ass.

Here sleep more gently on the spirit lies

Than where the SPEAKER tells the Noes and Ayes.

The wave-wash brings sweet sleep down, from the summer skies,

Here laps the azure deep,

And through the weed the small crabs creep,

And safe from prigs who plague and nymphs who peep,

Sagacious Punch reclines and woos benignant sleep.