Anon Night comes, and with her wings brings things Such as, with his poetic tongue, Young sung; The gas upblazes with its bright white light, And paralytic watchmen prowl, howl, growl About the streets, and take up Pall-Mall Sal, Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs.
Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash, Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep, But, frightened by Policeman B. 3, flee, And while they're going, whisper low, "No go!"
Now puss, when folks are in their beds, treads leads, And sleepers, waking, grumble, "Drat that cat!" Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will.
Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise In childish dreams, and with a roar gore poor Georgy, or Charley, or Billy, willy-nilly;— But Nursemaid in a nightmare rest, chest-pressed, Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games, And that she hears—what faith is man's!—Ann's banns And his, from Reverend Mr. Rice, twice, thrice; White ribbons flourish, and a stout shout out, That upward goes, shows Rose knows those bows' woes!
THOMAS HOOD.
RAILROAD RHYME.
Singing through the forests, Rattling over ridges; Shooting under arches, Rumbling over bridges; Whizzing through the mountains, Buzzing o'er the vale,— Bless me! this is pleasant, Riding on the rail!
Men of different "stations" In the eye of fame, Here are very quickly Coming to the same; High and lowly people, Birds of every feather, On a common level, Travelling together.
Gentleman in shorts, Looming very tall; Gentleman at large Talking very small; Gentleman in tights, With a loose-ish mien; Gentleman in gray, Looking rather green;
Gentleman quite old, Asking for the news, Gentleman in black, In a fit of blues; Gentleman in claret, Sober as a vicar; Gentleman in tweed, Dreadfully in liquor!