HIEROGLYPHICUM IN FUTURO.
The Queen of Hearts, Virgo, a bright constellation,
(That she'll turn up a trump is the hope of the nation),
By a whole pack of outlandish knaves who are suing,
Is sorely beset, for she shrinks from their wooing.
Each holds out a circle in which to entrap her,
And ev'ry one hopes that he shall kidnap her.
But occult operations behind the state curtain
Shew an Elph, that makes their success very uncertain.
Now, look to the left, and you'll see that Egalité,
That awful French thing, wants to pull down Regality;
And, much to the horror of all Christian people,
It tugs at the Church,—or, at least, at the steeple.
A sage-looking wight, who is marking the "Movement,"
Seems to think it by no means would be an improvement;
But as prophecies often show forth strange vagaries,
And, nine times in ten, are explained by contraries,
Let us hope we shall find that a people's affection
Is the very best remedy 'gainst disaffection.
May it crush the foul traitors who love revolution,
And preserve all that's good in our wise constitution.
JANUARY.—New Year's Eve.
