MAD TOM'S SONG.

THE great round moon !-tu-whit! tu-whoo!
I ride on its rim when I've nothing to do,-
I ride on its rim, and I sail away,

And I dash off the stars from its sides like spray!

Were you ever at sea when the waves ran high, And the ships of a nation went tumbling by?

Did hear the cries of the seamen bold? you

Did you hear the squeaking of rats in the hold?

But what is a voyage along the sea,

To lilting thro' all the sky with me,

Over the clouds and the rainbow's rim,

Over the tops of the seraphim?

The great round moon! tu-whit! tu-whoo!
When there's frost in the air, her nose looks blue,
Her nose looks blue and her cheeks look red,
And her eyes come starting half out of her head.

Yet better loves she the frosty night,

When the icicles round her are clanking bright,
And jangling like bells as she journeys on,
Than a sky made warm by the summer sun.

Better loves she the snow and the hail,
Veiling the earth with their gossamer veil,
Than the flaunting flowers of the rosy spring,
That lift up their heads to the sun—their king.

Away! away! before the wind!

That long-tailed comet is far behind;
And the track that is left by our silver car
Is bright as the train of a shooting star.

The great round moon! tu-whit! tu-whoo!
I ride on her rim when I've nothing to do;
I ride on her rim, and I laugh as I go,
At all that is puzzling the earth below.

Men flatter a lordling who comes into place,
Just as I see a planet extinguished in space :
Men weep o'er a score that have perished in fight,
Just as I see a world emerging to light.

If they rode on the moon thro' the boundless blue, They would join in my chorus-tu-whit! tu-whoo! They would alter their notions of virtue and sin, And weigh 'gainst their world the head of a pin!

SIX WEEKS AFTER MARRIAGE.

I DON'T care three-and-sixpence now

For anything in life;

My days of fun are over now,

I'm married to a wife.

I'm married to a wife, my boys,

And that, by Jove!'s no joke! I've eat the white of this world's egg, And now I've got the yolk.

I'm sick of sending marriage cake,
Of eating marriage dinners,
And all the fuss that people make
With newly wed beginners;

I care not now for white champagne,
I never cared for red;

Blue coats are all blue bores to me,

And Limerick gloves or kid.

And as for posting up and down,

It adds to all my ills;

At every paltry country town

I wish you saw the bills!
They know me for a married man,

Their smirking says they do,

And charge me as the Scots Greys charged The French at Waterloo.

I've grown, too, quite an idle rogue,

I only eat and drink;

Reading with me is not in vogue,
I can't be plagued to think;
When breakfast's over, I begin
To wish 'twere dinner time,
And these are all the changes now
In my life's pantomime.

I wonder if this state be what
Folks call the honey-moon?
If so, upon my word, I hope
It will be over soon;
For too much honey is to me

Much worse than too much salt; I'd rather read, from end to end, "Southennan," by John Galt.

O! when I was a bachelor

I was as brisk 's a bee,
But now I lie on ottomans

And languidly sip tea,
Or read a little paragraph
In any evening paper;
Then think it time to go to bed,

And light my bedroom taper.

O! when I was a bachelor

I always had some plan,
To win myself a loving wife,
And be a married man;

And now that I am so at last
My plans are at an end,
I scarcely know one thing to do,
My time I cannot spend.

O! when I was a bachelor
My spirits never flagg'd,
I walk'd as if a pair of wings
Had to my feet been tagg'd;
But I walk much more slowly now,
As married people should;

Were I to walk six miles an hour
My wife might think it rude.

Yet after all, I must confess,
This easy sort of way

Of getting o'er life's jolting road
Is what I can't gainsay;
I might have been a bachelor

Until my dying day,

Which would have been to err at least

As much the other way.