Part 56 (1/2)

Never more will I suppose, You can taste my verse or prose.

IX

You no more at me shall fret, While I teach and you forget.

X

You shall never hear me thunder, When you blunder on, and blunder.

XI

Show your poverty of spirit, And in dress place all your merit; Give yourself ten thousand airs: That with me shall break no squares.

XII

Never will I give advice, Till you please to ask me thrice: Which if you in scorn reject, 'T will be just as I expect.

Thus we both shall have our ends And continue special friends.

_Dean Swift._

ALL-SAINTS

In a church which is furnish'd with mullion and gable, With altar and reredos, with gargoyle and groin, The penitents' dresses are sealskin and sable, The odour of sanct.i.ty's eau-de-Cologne.

But only could Lucifer, flying from Hades, Gaze down on this crowd with its panniers and paints, He would say, as he look'd at the lords and the ladies, ”Oh, where is All-Sinners', if this is All-Saints'?”

_Edmund Yates._

HOW TO MAKE A MAN OF CONSEQUENCE

A brow austere, a circ.u.mspective eye.

A frequent shrug of the _os humeri_; A nod significant, a stately gait, A bl.u.s.tering manner, and a tone of weight, A smile sarcastic, an expressive stare: Adopt all these, as time and place will bear; Then rest a.s.sur'd that those of little sense Will deem you sure a man of consequence.

_Mark Lemon._

ON A MAGAZINE SONNET

”Scorn not the sonnet,” though its strength be sapped, Nor say malignant its inventor blundered; The corpse that here in fourteen lines is wrapped Had otherwise been covered with a hundred.

_Russell Hilliard Loines._

PARADISE

A HINDOO LEGEND