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Mother beside the fire
Sat, her nightcap in; Father, in easy chair,
Gloomily napping, When at the window-sill
Came a light tapping!
And a pale countenance
Looked through the casement. Loud beat the mother's heart,
Sick with amazement, And at the vision which
Came to surprise her, Shrieked in an agony
“Lor! it's Elizar!"
Yes, 't was Elizabeth
Yes, 't was their girl;
Hair out of curl.
Blushing, exclaimed, “Let not your innocent
Lizzy be blamed.
Yesterday, going to aunt
Jones's to tea, Mother, dear mother, I Forgot the door-key!
And as the night was cold,
And the way steep,
Breakfast and sleep.”
Whether her Pa and Ma
Fully believed her,
Stern they received her;
Cruel, though short, night,
Tea for a fortnight.
Hey diddle diddlety,
Cat and the Fiddlety, Maidens of England take caution by she!
Let love and suicide
Never tempt you aside, And always remember to take the door-key. LYRA HIBERNICA
THE POEMS OF THE MOLONY OF KILBALLY MOLONY
THE PIMLICO PAVILION
E pathrons of janius, Minerva and Vanius,
Who sit on Parnassus, that mountain of snow, Descind from your station and make observation
Of the Prince's pavilion in sweet Pimlico.
This garden, by jakurs, is forty poor acres,
(The garner he tould me, and sure ought to know ;) And yet greatly bigger, in size and in figure,
Than the Phanix itself, seems the Park Pimlico.
O 't is there that the spoort is, when the Queen and the
And the pine-apple gardens of sweet Pimlico.
There in blossoms odorous the birds sing a chorus,
Of“ God save the Queen ” as they hop to and fro; And you sit on the binches and hark to the finches,
Singing melodious in sweet Pimlico.
There shuiting their phanthasies, they pluck polyanthuses
That round in the gardens resplindently grow, Wid roses and jessimins, and other sweet specimins, Would charm bould Linnayus in sweet Pimlico.