The DUEL.
In Brentford town, of old renown,
There lived a Mister Bray
Who fell in love with Lucy Bell,
And so did Mister Clay.
To see her ride from Hammersmith,
By all it was allowed,
Such fair "outside" was never seen,—
An angel on a cloud.
Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay,
"You choose to rival me,
And court Miss Bell; but there your court
No thoroughfare shall be.
"Unless you now give up your suit,
You may repent your love;—
I who have shot a pigeon match,
Can shoot a turtle dove.
"So pray, before you woo her more,
Consider what you do:
If you pop aught to Lucy Bell,—
I'll pop it into you."
Said Mr. Clay to Mr. Bray,
"Your threats I do explode;—
One who has been a volunteer
Knows how to prime and load.
"And so I say to you, unless
Your passion quiet keeps,
I, who have shot and hit bulls' eyes,
May chance to hit a sheep's!"
Now gold is oft for silver changed,
And that for copper red;
But these two went away to give
Each other change for lead.
But first they found a friend apiece,
This pleasant thought to give—
That when they both were dead, they'd have
Two seconds yet to live.