The limpid melody would soar and float.
Now like a shattered lute,
The Nightingale who sang in winter's mute;
But long remembered that pure life shall be,
To Music dedicate and vowed to Charity.
[A] See Punch, Vol. XVI., p. 15.
"THE LABOUR MARKET."
First East Countryman. "Shall yeaou Voote for the Dis'tablishment o' th' Chu'ch?"