If he should have a letter in answer to his sighs,
He’ll put it to his lips up, instead of to his eyes.
For he’s blind, &c.
Then if he has a meeting the question for to put,
In suing for her hand he’ll be kneeling at her foot.
For he’s blind, &c.
Oh Love is like a furnace wherein a Lover lies,
And like a pig before the fire, he scorches out his eyes.
Till he’s blind, &c.
A HAPPY NEW YEAR!
“If the affairs of this world did not make us so sad,
’Twould be easy enough to be merry.”—Old Song.
HERE is nothing but plague in this house!
There’s the turbot is stole by the cat,
The Newfoundland has eat up the grouse,
And the haunch has been gnawed by a rat!
It’s the day of all days when I wish
That our friends should enjoy our good cheer;
Mr. Wiggins—our dinner is dished—
But I wish you a happy New Year!
Mr. Fudge has not called, but he will,
For his Rates, Church, and Highway, and Poor;
And the butcher has brought in his bill—
Twice as much as the quarter before.
Little Charles is come home with the mumps,
And Matilda with measles, I fear;
And I’ve taken two sov’reigns like dumps—
But I wish you a happy New Year!
Your poor brother is in the Gazette,
And your banker is off to New York;
Mr. Bigsby has died in your debt,
And the “Wiggins” has foundered near Cork.
Mr. Merrington’s bill is come back;
You are chosen to serve overseer;
The new wall is beginning to crack—
But I wish you a happy New Year!