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forth from the eyes, which is worth all the rest of loveliness. When they had tinged her fingers with the Henna leaf, and placed upon her brow a small coronet of jewels, of the shape worn by the ancient Queens of Bucharia, they flung over her head the rose-colored bridal veil, and she proceeded to the barge that was to convey her across the lake;first kissing, with a mournful look, the little amulet of cornelian which her father at parting had hung about her neck.

The morning was as fresh and fair as the maid on whose nuptials it rose, and the shining lake all covered with boats, the minstrels playing upon the shores of the islands, and the crowded summerhouses on the green hills around, with shawls and banners waving from their roofs, presented such a picture of animated rejoicing, as only she who was the object of it all, did not feel with transport. To LALLA ROOKH alone it was a melancholy pageant; nor could she have even borne to look upon the scene, were it not for a hope that, among the crowds around, she might once more perhaps catch a glimpse of FERAMORZ. So much was her imagination haunted by this thought, that there was scarcely an islet or boat she passed on the way, at which her heart did not flutter with the momentary fancy that he was there. Happy, in her eyes, the humblest slave upon whom the light of his dear looks fell!-In the barge immediately after the princess sat FADLADEEN, with his silken curtains thrown widely apart, that all might have the benefit of his august presence, and with his head full of the speech he was to deliver to the King, "concerning FERAMORZ, and literature, and the Chabuk, as connected therewith."

They now had entered the canal which leads from the Lake to the splendid domes and saloons of the Shalimar, and went gliding on through the gardens that ascended from each bank, full of flowering shrubs that made the air all perfume; while from the middle of the canal rose jets of water, smooth and unbroken, to such a dazzling height, that they stood like tall pillars of diamond in the sunshine.

1 "On Mahommed Shaw's return to Koolburga, (the capital of Dekkan,) he made a great festival, and mounted this throne with much pomp and magnificence, calling it Firozeh, or Cerulean. I have heard some old persons, who saw the throne Firozeh in the reign of Sultan Mamood Bhamenee, describe it. They say that it was in length nine feet, and three in breadth; made of ebony, covered with plates of pure gold, and set with precious stones of immense value. Every

After sailing under the arches of various saloons, they at length arrived at the last and most magnificent, where the monarch awaited the coming of his bride; and such was the agitation of her heart and frame, that it was with difficulty she could walk up the marble steps which were covered with cloth of gold for her ascent from the barge. At the end of the hall stood two thrones, as precious as the Cerulean Throne of Coolburga,' on one of which sat ALIRIS, the youthful King of Bucharia, and on the other was, in a few minutes, to be placed the most beautiful Princess in the world. Immediately upon the entrance of LALLA ROOKH into the saloon, the monarch descended from his throne to meet her; but scarcely had he time to take her hand in his, when she screamed with surprise, and fainted at his feet. It was FERAMORZ himself that stood before her!-FERAMORZ was, himself, the Sovereign of Bucharia, who in this disguise had accompanied his young bride from Delhi, and, having won her love as an humble minstrel, now amply deserved to enjoy it as a King.

The consternation of FADLADEEN at this discovery was, for the moment, almost pitiable. But change of opinion is a resource too convenient in courts for this experienced courtier not to have learned to avail himself of it. His criticisms were all, of course, recanted instantly: he was seized with an admiration of the King's verses, as unbounded as, he begged him to believe, it was disinterested; and the following week saw him in possession of an additional place, swearing by all the Saints of Islam that never had there existed so great a poet as the Monarch ALIRIS, and, moreover, ready to prescribe his favorite regimen of the Chabuk for every man, woman, and child that dared to think otherwise.

Of the happiness of the King and Queen of Bucharia, after such a beginning, there can be but little doubt; and, among the lesser symptoms, it is recorded of LALLA ROOKI, that, to the day of her death, in memory of their delightful journey, she never called the King by any other name than FERAMORZ.

prince of the house of Bhamence, who possessed this throne, made a point of adding to it some rich stones; so that when, in the reign of Sultan Mamood, it was taken to pieces, to remove some of the jewels to be set in vases and cups, the jewellers valued it at one corore of oons, (nearly four millions sterling.) I learned also that it was called Firozeh from being partly enamelled of a sky-blue color, which was in time totally concealed by the number of jewels."- Ferishta.

POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS.

LINES ON THE DEATH OF MR. P-RC-V-L.

IN the dirge we sung o'er him no censure was heard,

Unembitter'd and free did the tear-drop descend;

In that Palace or China-shop (Brighton, which is it ?)

Where Fuм had just come to pay Huм a short

visit.

Near akin are these Birds, though they differ in nation,

(The breed of the HUMS s old as creation ;)

We forgot, in that hour, how the statesman had Both, full-craw'd Legitine.es--both, birds of prey,
err'd,
Both, cackling and ravenous creatures, half way
And wept for the husband, the father, and friend. "Twixt the goose and the vulture, like Lord

Oh, proud was the meed his integrity won,

And gen'rous indeed were the tears that we shed, When, in grief, we forgot all the ill he had done,

C-STL-GH.

While FUM deals in Mandarins, Bonzes, Bohea, Peers, Bishops, and Punch, HUм, are sacred to

thee!

And, though wrong'd by him, living, bewail'd So congenial their tastes, that, when Fuм first did

him, when dead.

Even now, if one harsher emotion intrude,

'Tis to wish he had chosen some lowlier state, Had known what he was-and, content to be good, Had ne'er, for our ruin, aspired to be great.

So, left through their own little orbit to move,

His years might have roll'd inoffensive away; His children might still have been bless'd with his love,

And England would ne'er have been cursed with his sway.

To the Editor of the Morning Chronicle.
Sir,

In order to explain the following Fragment, it is necessary to refer your readers to a late florid description of the Pavilion at Brighton, in the apartments of which, we are told, "FUM, The Chinese Bird of Royalty," is a principal ornament. I am, Sir, yours, &c.

MUM.

FUM AND HUM, THE TWO BIRDS OF ROYALTY

ONE day the Chinese Bird of Royalty, FUM, Thus accosted our own Bird of Royalty, Hum,

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(The PE just in bed, or about to depart for❜t, His legs full of gout, and his arms full of H-RTF-D,)

To think what a long line of titles may follow
The relics of him who died-friendless and lorn!

"I say, HUм," says FUM-FUM, of course, spoke How proud they can press to the fun'ral array

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"Whose humor, as gay as the fire-fly's light,

Time was, when JOHN BULL little difference spied

"Play'd round every subject, and shone as it "Twixt the foe at his feet, and the friend at his side: When he found (such his humor in fighting and

play'd ;

"Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright, "Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade;

"Whose eloquence-bright'ning whatever it tried, "Whether reason or fancy, the gay or the grave,

"Was as rapid, as deep, and as brilliant a tide, "As ever bore Freedom aloft on its wave!"

eating)

His foe, like his beef-steak, the sweeter for beating. But this comes, Master BEN, of your cursed foreign notions,

Your trinkets, wigs, thingumbobs, gold lace and lotions;

Your Noyeaus, Curaçoas, and the Devil knows what

(One swig of Blue Ruin is worth the whole lot!) Your great and small crosses- -(my eyes, what a brood!

Yes-such was the man, and so wretched his fate ;-
And thus, sooner or later, shall all have to grieve,
Who waste their morn's dew in the beams of the A cross-buttock from me would do some of them
Great,

And expect 'twill return to refresh them at eve.

good!)

Which have spoil'd you, till hardly a drop, my old porpoise,

In the woods of the North there are insects that Of pure English claret is left in your corpus;

prey

On the brain of the elk till his very last sigh ;1 Oh, Genius! thy patrons, more cruel than they, First feed on thy brains, and then leave thee to die!

EPISTLE

FROM

TOM CRIB TO BIG BEN,2

CONCERNING SOME FOUL PLAY IN A LATE TRANSACTION.3

"Ahi, mio BEN!"-METASTASIO.4

WHAT! BEN, my old hero, is this your renown?
Is this the new go?-kick a man when he's down!
When the foe has knock'd under, to tread on him
then-

By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, BEN!
"Foul! foul!" all the lads of the Fancy exclaim-
CHARLEY SHOCK is electrified-BELCHER spits
flame-

And MOLYNEUX-ay, even BLACKY" cries "shame!"

1 Naturalists have observed that, upon dissecting an elk, there were found in its head some large flies, with its brain almost eaten away by them.-History of Poland.

2 A nickname given, at this time, to the Pr-ce R-g-t.

3 Written soon after Bonaparte's transportation to St. Helena.

And (as JIM says) the only one trick, good or bad, Of the Fancy you're up to, is fibbing, my lad. Hence it comes,-BOXIANA, disgrace to thy page!Having floor'd, by good luck, the first swell of the

age,

Having conquer'd the prime one, that mild us all round,

You kick'd him, old BEN, as he gasp'd on the

ground!

Ay-just at the time to show spunk, if you'd got

any

Kick'd him, and jaw'd him, and lagg'd' him to
Botany!

Oh, shade of the Cheesemonger! you, who, alas,
Doubled up, by the dozen, those Mounseers in brass,
On that great day of milling, when blood lay in lakes,
When Kings held the bottle, and Europe the stakes,
Look down upon BEN-see him, dunghill all o'er,
Insult the fall'n foe, that can harm him no more!
Out, cowardly spooney!—again and again,
By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, BEN.
To show the white feather is many men's doom,
But, what of one feather?-BEN shows a whole
Plume.

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4 Tom I suppose, was "assisted" to this Motto by Mr. | himself, and was killed in the memorable set to at Waterloo.

THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS.

Le Leggi della Maschera richiedono che una persona mascherata non sia salutata per nome da uno che la conosce malgrado il suo travestimento.-CASTIGLIONE.

PREFACE.

IN what manner the following Epistles came into my hands, it is not necessary for the public to know. It will be seen by Mr. FUDGE's Second Letter, that he is one of those gentlemen whose Secret Services in Ireland, under the mild ministry of my Lord CGH, have been so amply and gratefully remunerated. Like his friend and associate, THOMAS REYNOLDS, Esq., he had retired upon the reward of his honest industry; but has lately been induced to appear again in active life, and superintend the training of that Delatorian Cohort, which Lord S-DM-TH, in his wisdom and benevolence, has organized.

Whether Mr. FUDGE, himself, has yet made any discoveries, does not appear from the following pages. But much may be expected from a person of his zeal and sagacity, and, indeed, to him, Lord S-DM-TII, and the Greenland-bound ships, the eyes of all lovers of discoverie are now most anxiously directed.

I regret much that I have been obliged to omit Mr. BOB FUDGE's Third Letter, concluding the adventures of his Day with the Dinner, Opera, &c., &c.;-but, in consequence of some remarks upon Marinette's thin drapery, which, it was thought, might give offence to certain well-meaning persons, the manuscript was sent back to Paris for his revision, and had not returned when the last sheet was put to press.

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DEAR DOLL, while the tails of our horses are plait-
ing,

The trunks tying on, and Papa, at the door,
Into very bad French is, as usual, translating

It will not, I hope, be thought presumptuous, if
I take this opportunity of complaining of a very
serious injustice I have suffered from the public.
Dr. KING wrote a treatise to prove that BENTLEY
66 was not the author of his own book," and a similar
absurdity has been asserted of me, in almost all the
best-informed literary circles. With the name of
the real author staring them in the face, they have
yet persisted in attributing my works to other peo-
ple; and the fame of the Twopenny Post-Bag-
such as it is having hovered doubtfully over various I have seen nothing yet very wonderful here;

His English resolve not to give a sou more,
I sit down to write you a line-only think!—
A letter from France, with French pens and French
ink,

How delightful! though, would you believe it, my
dear?

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