The Heathen, we know, made their Gods out of wood,

And Saints may be fram'd of as handy materials ;

As any the Pope ever book'd as Ethereals.

Stand forth, Man of Bibles !-not Mahomet's

pigeon,

When, perch'd on the Koran, he dropp'd there, they say,

Strong marks of his faith, ever shed o'er religion Such glory as B-tt-rw-rth sheds every day.

Great Galen of souls, with what vigour he cranis Down Erin's idolatrous throats, till they crack again,

Bolus on bolus, good man!—and then damns Both their stomachs and souls, if they dare cast them back again.

How well might his shop-as a type representing
The creed of himself and his sanctified clan,
On its counter exhibit "the Art of Tormenting,"
Bound neatly, and letter'd "Whole Duty of
Man!"

Canonize him!- by Judas, we will canonize him; For Cant is his hobby, and twaddling his bliss ; And, though wise men may pity and wits may despise him,

He'll make but the better shop-saint for all this.

Call quickly together the whole tribe of Canters,

Convoke all the serious Tag-rag of the nation; Bring Shakers and Snufflers and Jumpers and Ranters,

To witness their B-tt-rw-rth's Canonization!

Yea, humbly I've ventur'd his merits to paint,

Yea, feebly have tried all his gifts to portray, And they form a sum-total for making a Saint, That the Devil's own Advocate could not gainsay.

3 Toad Lane, in Manchester, where Mother Lee was born. In her "Address to Young Believers," she says, that "it is a matter of no importance with them from whence the means of their deliverance come, whether from a stable in Bethlehem, or from Toad Lane, Manchester."

Jump high, all ye Jumpers, ye Ranters all roar, While B-tt-rw-rth's spirit, uprais'd from

your eyes,

Like a kite made of foolscap, in glory shall soar, With a long tail of rubbish behind, to the skies!

AN INCANTATION.

SUNG BY THE BUBBLE SPIRIT.

Air. Come with me, and we will go Where the rocks of coral grow.

COME with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles, bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy-or from soap;
Bright as e'er the South Sea sent
From its frothy element!
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny W—lks,
Thou, who rhym'st so well to bilks; '
Mix the lather-who can be
Fitter for such task than thee,
Great M. P. for Sudsbury!

Now the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter, bring thy pipe,—
Thou, whom ancient Coventry
Once so dearly lov'd, that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter; —
Puff the bubbles high in air,
Puff thy best to keep them there.

Bravo, bravo, Peter M-re!

Now the rainbow humbugs 3 soar,
Glitt'ring all with golden hues,
Such as haunt the dreams of Jews;-
Some, reflecting mines that lie
Under Chili's glowing sky,
Some, those virgin pearls that sleep
Cloister'd in the southern deep;

1 Strong indications of character may be sometimes traced in the rhymes to names. Marvell thought so, when he wrote "Sir Edward Sutton,

The foolish Knight who rhymes to mutton."

2 The member, during a long period, for Coventry.

3 An humble imitation of one of our modern poets, who, in a poem against War, after describing the splendid habiliments of the soldier, thus apostrophizes him "thou rainbow ruffian!"

Others, as if lent a ray

From the streaming Milky Way, Glist'ning o'er with curds and whey From the cows of Alderney.

Now's the moment-who shall first
Catch the bubbles, ere they burst?
Run, ye Squires, ye Viscounts, run,
Br-gd-n, T-ynh-m, P-lm-t-n ;-
John W-lks junior runs beside ye!
Take the good the knaves provide ye!+
See, with upturn'd eyes and hands,
Where the Shareman", Br-gd—n, stands,
Gaping for the froth to fall
Down his gullet - lye and all.
See!

But, hark, my time is out-
Now, like some great water-spout,
Scatter'd by the cannon's thunder,
Burst, ye bubbles, all asunder!

But, no-'twas, indeed, a Turtle, wide
And plump as ever these eyes descried;
A Turtle, juicy as ever yet
Glued up the lips of a Baronet!

And much did it grieve my soul to see
That an animal of such dignity,
Like an absentee abroad should roam,
When he ought to stay and be ate at home.

But now "a change came o'er my dream,"
Like the magic lantern's shifting slider ;-
I look'd, and saw, by the evening beam,
On the back of that Turtle sat a rider-
A goodly man, with an eye so merry,
I knew 'twas our Foreign Secretary, 1
Who there, at his ease, did sit and smile,
Like Waterton on his crocodile ; 2
Cracking such jokes, at every motion,

As made the Turtle squeak with glee, And own they gave him a lively notion Of what his forc'd-meat balls would be.

So, on the Sec. in his glory went,
Over that briny element,
Waving his hand, as he took farewell,
With graceful air, and bidding me tell
Inquiring friends that the Turtle and he
Were gone on a foreign embassy-
To soften the heart of a Diplomate,
Who is known to doat upon verdant fat,
And to let admiring Europe see,
That calipash and calipee

Are the English forms of Diplomacy.

THE DONKY AND HIS PANNIERS.

A FABLE.

"fessus jam sudat asellus,

"Parce illi; vestrum delicium est asinus."

VIRGIL. Copa.

A DONKY, whose talent for burdens was wondrous. So much that you'd swear he rejoic'd in a load, One day had to jog under panniers so pond'rous, That-down the poor Donky fell smack on the road!

His owners and drivers stood round in amazeWhat! Neddy, the patient, the prosperous Neddy,

1 Mr. Canning.

2 Wanderings in South America. "It was the first and last time (says Mr. Waterton) I was ever on a crocodile's back."

3 Alluding to an early poem of Mr. Coleridge's, addressed to an Ass, and beginning, I hail thee, brother!"