There he sits like a friar or monk,
Till the guests around grow uncommonly drunk;
The witch of the party, with gin they cram her,
In their eager strife for the good of the dram her;
But Shakspeare's voice, from bottle and stoup,
Warned all the spirits to go their ways,
And Cruikshank had hardly finished his group,
Ere they'd all got home to their several plays!
APRIL—"I know a bank" Shaks: (A consol-atory refletion)