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56 Ah! knew'st thou how we find it sweet

“ Beneath the wayes to go, Thyself would leave the hook's deceit, “ And live with us below.

“ Love not their splendour in the main

6 The sun and moon to lave? 6 Look not their beams as bright again,

• Reflected on the wave?

“ Tempts not this river's glassy blue,

“ So crystal, clear and bright ? “ Tempts not thy shade, which bathes in dew,

“ And shares our cool delight?”—

The water rush'd, the water swell’d,

The fisherman sat nigh;
With wishful glance the flood beheld,

And long'd the wave to try.

To him the said, to him she sung,

The river's guileful queen :
Half in he fell, half in he sprung,

And never more was seen.


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LANDLORD, another bowl of punch, and comrades fill

your glasses ! First in another bumper toast our pretty absent lasses, Then hear how sad and strange a sight my chance it was to

fee, While lately, in the · Lovely Nan,' returning from Goree!

As all alone at dead of night along the deck I wander'd,
And now I whistled, now on home and Polly Parsons pon-

der'd, Sudden a ghastly form appear’d, in dripping trowsers rigg'd, And soon, with strange surprise and fear, Jack Tackle's

ghost I twigg'd.

" Dear

_"Dear Tom," quoth he, “ I hither come a doleful tale

to tell ye ! “A monstrous fish has safely stow'd your comrade in his

belly; “ Groggy last night, my luck was such, that overboard I

slid, “When a shark snapp'd and chew'd me, just as now you

chew that quid.

“Old Nick, who seem'd confounded glad to catch my soul

a napping, Straight tax'd me with that buxom dame, the tailor's wife

at Wapping; " In vain I begg’d, and swore, and jaw’d; Nick no excuse

would hear; Quoth he, – You lubber, make your will, and dam'me,

downwards steer.'

“ Tom, to the 'foresaid tailor's wife I leave my worldly

riches, “But keep yourself, my faithful friend, my bran-new linen

breeches; " Then, when you wear them, sometimes give one thought

to Jack that's dead, “ Nor leave those galligatkins off while there remains ons



At hearing Jack's sad tale, my heart, you well may think,

was bleeding; The spirit weil perceived my grief, and seem’d to be pro

ceeding, But here, it so fell out, he sneezed :-Says I—" God bless

you, Jack !"

And poor Jack Tackle’s grimly ghost was vanish'd in a

crack !

Now comrades, timely warning take, and landlord fill the

bowl; Jack Tackle, for the tailor's wife, has damn’d his precious

soul; Old Nick's a devilish dab, it seems, at snapping up a failor's, So if you kiss your neighbour's wife, be sure she's not a



No. XVI.




WHERE fragrant breezes figh'd through orange bowers,
And springing fountains cool'd the air with showers,
From pomp retired, and noon-tide's burning ray,
The fair, the royal Nouronihar lay.
The cups of roses, newly-cropp’d, were spread
Her lovely limbs beneath, and'o'er her head
Imprison'd nightingales attuned their throats,
And lull’d the princess with melodious notes.
Here roll'd a lucid stream its gentle wave
With scarce heard murmur; while a Georgian slave
Placed near the couch with feathers in her hand,
The lady's panting breast in filence fann'd,
And chased the insects, who presumed to seck
Their banquet on the beauty's glowing cheek.
This slave, a mild and simple maid was she,
Of common form, and born of low degree,

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