Pale is Amelia's face,
And red Lavinia's nose is;
The sisters ever jar:
'Tis like the civil war
Between the rival roses.
* * * * *
On that dark theme, man's genealogy,
How strangely people's notions disagree!--
Sir Snub-nose, growling, swears that he can trace
Strong kindred likeness to the monkey-race:--
My Lady Graceful smiles, well-pleased, to find
Far more resemblance to the Angelic-kind:--
Sure the reflection from their looking-glasses
Into their minds,--to prompt opinion--passes.
Would-be philosophers have tried to scan
The pedigree of that odd creature, man.
'We are of monkey-race!' Sir Snub-nose cries.
Your strange assertion strikes me with surprise;
(I, for my part, the compliment decline)--
But do you, Sir, sincerely thus opine?
'I do indeed: nay more, I'm sure 'tis true!'
Is't possible?--Yet, when I look on you,--
I, verily, begin to think so too.
* * * * *
'Oh! Doctor! I've had such a headache--so bad!
I was fearful I should have gone out of my senses.'
"I should not have wonder'd, dear Ma'am, if you had,
You'd not have to go far to leap over those fences."
ON THE CONDUCT OF SOME FEW CLERGYMEN,
WHO ARE A DISGRACE TO THEIR SACRED PROFESSION.
Satan, says scripture, like a roaring lion,
Goes about, seeking whom he may devour.
What should a priest, then, chiefly keep his eye on?
To guard his flock against the tempter's power.--
Pshaw! what he chiefly looks at is to fleece 'em:
To seize his prey, the tithes, and still increase 'em:
Like a devouring lion is the priest;
Or--give the devil his due--you'll own, at least,
He has the marks about him of the beast.
* * * * *
Why, Sir, so proud to sign your name M.D.?
'It means I'm member of the Faculty.'
Hum!--from your practice else one might infer
It meant mock-doctor, or death's minister.