Points may be badly managed, as they were the other day,
Because a stingy Company for hands enough won't pay;
Over and over goes the train—the engine off the rail,
And poor Papa's unable, when he's found, to tell the tale.
And should your poor Papa escape, my darlings, with his life,
May he return on two legs, to his children and his wife—
With both his arms, my little dears, return your fond embrace,
And present to you, unalter'd, every feature of his face.
I hope I shall come back, my dears—but, mind, I am insured—
So, in case the worst may happen, you are so far all secured.
An action then will also lie for you and your Mamma—
And don't forget to bring it—on account of poor Papa.
A LETTER AND AN ANSWER. PUNCH.
THE PRESBYTERS TO PALMERSTON.
The Plague has come among us,
Miserable sinners!
Fear and remorse have stung us,
Miserable sinners!
We ask the State to fix a day,
Whereon all men may fast and pray,
That Heaven will please to turn away
The Plague that works us sore dismay,
Miserable sinners!
PALMERSTON TO THE PRESBYTERS.
The Plague that comes among you,
Miserable sinners!
To effort hath it strung you?
Miserable sinners!
You ask that all should fast and pray;
Better all wake and work, I say;
Sloth and supineness put away,
That so the Plague may cease to slay;
Miserable sinners!
For Plagues, like other evils,
Miserable sinners!
Are GOD'S and not the Devil's,
Miserable sinners!
Scourges they are, but in a hand
Which love and pity do command:
And when the heaviest stripes do fall,
'Tis where they're wanted most of all,
Miserable sinners!
Look round about your city,
Miserable sinners!
Arouse to shame and pity,
Miserable sinners!
Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;
Fast: but feed those for want who fail;
Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace
But bow with cleaner hands and face,
Miserable sinners!