By luck or roguery of course Old Nick
Won ev’ry trick:
The score was full, the last turn-up had done it—
“Your soul—I’ve won it!”
“It’s true for you I’ve lost that same,”
Said Pat a little hazy in his wits—
“My soul is yours—but come, another game—
Double, or quits!”
ON THE DEATH OF THE GIRAFFE.
They say, God wot!
She died upon the spot:
But then in spots she was so rich,—
I wonder which?
ON THE REMOVAL OF A MENAGERIE.
Let Exeter Change lament its change,
Its beasts and other losses—
Another place thrives by its case,
Now Charing has two Crosses.