Then, unless ye the Church would submerge, ye Must leave us in peace to augment For the wretch who could number the Clergy, With few will be ever content.* But the wretch who can number his kisses, A SAD CASE. "If it be the undergraduate season at which this rabies religiosa is to be so fearful, what security has Mr. G-lb-n against it at this moment, when his son is actually exposed to the full venom of an association with Dissenters?"-The Times, March 25. How sad a case!-just think of it— By some insane Dissenter, roaming Through Granta's halls, at large and foaming, Which marks Dissenters when they're rabid ! God only knows what mischiefs might Or how the venom, once suck'd in, Might spread and rage through kith and kin. Mad folks, of all denominations, Our G-lb-n senior bitten too; The Hychurchphobia in those veins, Just fancy what a shock 'twould be Even worse than Parson B-v-rl—y's ; — * The Duke of Wellington, who styled them "the Articles of Christianity." Or like that class of Methodists Prince Waterloo styles "Atheists!" But 'tis too much-the Muse turns pale, And o'er the picture drops a veil, Praying, God save the G-lb-rns all From mad Dissenters, great and small! A DREAM OF HINDOSTAN. risum teneatis, amici. "THE longer one lives, the more one learns, Said I, as off to sleep I went, Bemus'd with thinking of Tithe concerns, And reading a book, by the Bishop of FERNS *, On the Irish Church Establishment. But, lo, in sleep, not long I lay, When Fancy her usual tricks began, And I found myself bewitch'd away To a goodly city in Hindostan A city, where he, who dares to dine On aught but rice, is deem'd a sinner; Where sheep and kine are held divine, And, accordingly-never drest for dinner. "But how is this?" I wondering criedAs I walk'd that city, fair and wide, * An indefatigable scribbler of anti-Catholic pamphlets. |