LONDON LYRICS.—THE IMAGE BOY.
Whoe'er has trudged, on frequent feet,
From Charing Cross to Ludgate-street,
That haunt of noise and wrangle,
Has seen, on journeying through the Strand,
A foreign image-vender stand
Near Somerset's quadrangle.
His coal-black eye, his balanced walk,
His sable apron, white with chalk,