Shouts nor laughter, sighs nor cries,

A quaint imp sat in an earthen pot,

In an earthen big-bellied pot sat heThrough holes at the sides his arms outshot,— Rather a comical sight to see.

He drumm'd his belly so fair and round,

And drumm'd his belly so round and fair-
Brought forth a rumbling mingled sound,-
Rather a comical sound to hear;

And he hoop'd, and haw'd, and wink'd, and grinn'd,
As birth to a bit of a song gave he-
Keeping time with the tune as he gallop'd along,
Till his eyes fairly stood out with glee.
Yet the good, &c.
Another imp came with a trumpet snout,
That was both nose and mouth in one;
And he twang'd his nasal melodies out,

In many a quaver, shake, and run;

And his head mov'd backwards and forwards still, Upon his long and snaky neck ;

He sneezed his octaves out, until

You'd think his nose was ready to break;
And close to St. Anthony's ear he came,
And squeak'd and pip'd his music in,

The shock ran through the good saint's frame,-
He shook and shivered with the din.
Yet the good, &c.
An imp came next with a skeleton form,
Just come out of a charnel-vault;
His jaws with gristle were black and deform,
And his teeth were large and as white as salt.
He grinn'd full many a lifeless grin,

And wagg'd and rattled his bony tail;
His skull was deck'd with gill and fin,

And his eyes were like the eyes of a snail.
He took his stand at the good saint's back,
On tiptoe rum he stood a space,
And cock'd down his India-rubber eyes,
To squint and gaze upon his face.
But the good, &c.

Spiders, with an ugly guise,

Hung from every creek and nook,

Star'd at the saint with their eight eyes,
Danc'd a hornpipe on his book ;

Could e-ver win a way his look!

Beetles and slow-worms crawled about,
Forty-feets a full span long;

Through holes in the wainscot mice popp'd out,
And danc'd in and out in an endless throng;
A sly old rat, with whisker'd snout,

And toad on his head, did squat demure ;-
There never was such an extravagant rout
From that to the present time, I'm sure.
Yet the good, &c.

A thing with horny eyes was there,
With horny eyes, just like the dead;
While fish-bones grew, instead of hair,
Upon its bald and skinless head.
Last came an imp-how unlike the rest-
A lovely-looking female form,-

And, whilst with a whisper his cheek she press'd,
Her lips felt downy, soft, and warm;
As over his shoulders she bent the light
Of her brilliant eyes upon his page,
Soon fill'd his soul with mild delight,
And the good old chap forgot his age.
And the good St. Anthony boggled his eyes
So quickly o'er his old black book;
Ho! ho! at the corners they 'gan to rise,
And he couldn't choose but have a look.

There are many devils that walk this world, Devils so meagre and devils so stout; Devils that go with their tails uncurl'd, Devils with horns and devils without; Serious devils, laughing devils,

Devils black, and devils white,
Devils uncouth, devils for revels,
Devils meek, and devils polite;

Devils with feathers, devils with scales,
Devils with blue and warty skins,
Devils with claws like iron nails,
Devils with fishes' gills and fins,
Devils foolish, devils wise,

Devils great, and devils small ;--·
But a laughing woman, with two bright eyes,
Proves to be the worst devil of all.

Andantino.

On, Stan-ley, on!' Were the

last words of Marmion, Were the last, the last

words of Marmion.

Allegretto Vivace.

He shineth

way, a-way; He

a - way,

way, a- way,

a - way, a - way,

He leaveth gold on the noonday flower,
When zephyr sings in his scented bower;
And saileth over a thousand clouds,
That would cover his splendour with fleecy shrouds,
Till they weep at the warmth of his fiery glow,
And the green grass drinketh their tears below.
He shineth out, &c.

he sweepeth the night a - way. His last beams on the blue waves play, As their radiance dyeth away; And his tir'd steeds lay down to rest In the crimson bed of the curtain'd west, Till the silver moon comes out alone, To smile from the east on their glory gone. His last beams, &c.

Moderato con Espres.

O! look on Rosa's beaming eye,

She looks like love's own sister;

Her lip retains that ruby dye

It had when first I kiss'd her.

O! should the day-star with'ring sink,
And darkness swift come o'er me,
I should not miss it much, I think,
With eyes like those before me.

Yon little rosy laughing girl,
With cheek all smooth and glowing,
And raven hair in many a curl,
Adown her shoulders flowing,-

before me.

Her eyes they sparkle warm and bright,
I feel each glance steal o'er me;-
O! day might change to endless night,
With eyes like those before me.
But the brightest eyes that ever yet
Lit up a cheek all smiling,
Were her's,-which I can ne'er forget,
So lovelily beguiling!

A glance destroys the grief and gloom
That sometimes hovers o'er me;
And woes, though deep, will find a tomb,
With eyes like those before me.