Now squat city misses their albums expand,
And woo the worn rhymer for “something offhand”;
No longer with stinted effrontery fraught,
Bucklersbury now seeks what St. James’ once sought,
And (oh, what a classical haunt for a bard!)
The Poet of Fashion dines out in Barge-yard.
James Smith.
CHRISTMAS OUT OF TOWN
FOR many a winter in Billiter Lane,
My wife, Mrs. Brown, was not heard to complain;