A letter comes, just gathered. We Then, after we have kissed its wit My eyes! how I love you, So glossy your hair is, Quite Grecian your nose is, And your cheeks are like roses, So delicious - O Moses! Surpassingly sweet! Not the beauty of tulips, Not the black eyes of Juno, Can equal your own! O, how my heart prances, Upon me are thrown! And now, dearest Kitty, To keep me in sorrow! So, if you 'll but chime in, And be married to-morrow. CUPID SWALLOWED. T' OTHER day, as I was twining "Faith!" says Rory, "I'd rather love you than the ground." "Now, Rory, I'll cry if you don't let me go; Sure I dream every night that I'm hating you so!" "Och!" says Rory, "that same I'm delighted to hear, For dhrames always go by conthraries, my dear. So, jewel, kape dhraming that same till ye die, And bright morning will give dirty night the black lie! And 't is plazed that I am, and why not, to be sure? Since 't is all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More. THE LOW-BACKED CAR. But when that hay was blooming grass, With the blooming girl I sing. Never asked for the toll, In battle's wild commotion, The proud and mighty Mars That knock men down in the market town, Sweet Peggy round her car, sir, Has strings of ducks and geese, But the scores of hearts she slaughters By far outnumber these ; While she among her poultry sits, Just like a turtle-dove, Of the blooming god of Love! While she sits in her low-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken As she sits in her low-backed car. O, I'd rather own that car, sir, Than a coach and four, and gold galore, For the lady would sit forninst me, With my arm around her waist, While we drove in the low-backed car, To be married by Father Mahar ; O, my heart would beat high At her glance and her sigh, Though it beat in a low-backed car! SAMUEL LOVER. |