"Who art thou, awful stranger?
Our ancient annals say,
That twice two hundred years ago
Another passed this way
Like thee in face and feature;
And, if the tale be true,
'Tis writ, that in this very year
Again the stranger shall appear.
Art thou the Wandering Jew?"
"The Wandering Jew, thou dotard!"
The wondrous phantom cried—
"'Tis several centuries ago
Since that poor stripling died.
He would not use my nostrums—
See, shaveling, here they are!
These put to flight all human ills,
These conquer death—unfailing pills,
And I'm the inventor, PARR!"
[Original Size]
TARQUIN AND THE AUGUR
Gingerly is good King Tarquin shaving,
Gently glides the razor o'er his chin,
Near him stands a grim Haruspex raving,
And with nasal whine he pitches in
Church extension hints,
Till the monarch squints,
Snicks his chin, and swears—a deadly sin!
"Jove confound thee, thou bare-legged impostor
From my dressing-table get thee gone!
Dost thou think my flesh is double Glo'ster?
There again! That cut was to the bone!
Get ye from my sight;
I'll believe you're right
When my razor cuts the sharpening hone!"
Thus spoke Tarquin with a deal of dryness;
But the Augur, eager for his fees,
Answered—"Try it, your Imperial Highness;
Press a little harder, if you please.
There! the deed is done!"