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NAY, DO NOT TELL ME, WHEN WE MEET.

I.

NAY, do not tell me, when we meet,
Thou art so happy and so glad―
No words to me can be more sweet,
Yet none have made my soul more sad.

II.

No words can be more sweet to me-
For is it not a bliss to know,

That one, who would be all to thee,
Can happiness on thee bestow?

III.

No words have made my

soul more sad

For, though our hearts were formed to twine,

I feel with hopeless anguish mad,

To think-thou never canst be mine.

IV.

It is not, that thou wouldst thyself

Consent to wed for lands or gold;

But parents only look to pelf,

And Beauty thus is bought and sold.

V.

Yet why, this object of their choice,
Do I thus venture to arraign,

Who can not, must not, raise my voice,

And dare not act, to break thy chain?

VI.

For mine must be the Spartan's pangs,
Resolved his agony to hide-

He felt his hidden captive's fangs,
But bore the torture-till he died.

VII.

Ev'n so, the anguish I sustain

Must in eternal silence rest

Cease, cease to throb, my burning brain!
Be calm, be calm, my bleeding breast!

Jan. 4th, 1837.

THE DUCHESS OF BERRI AND THE JEW.

"The Jew, Deutz, who was ennobled in Italy, and is believed at Paris to be the father of the Duchess of Berri's infant, is described as an ill-favoured wretch, with sunken and blood-shot eyes, dark hair, like horse hair, horribly bad teeth, and features deeply indented with the small-pox."-Examiner.

SAID Dick to Ned the other day,
When he had finished reading

This sketch of Deutz, whom Berri proved

To be a man of breeding,”–

"I think the Duchess, in one sense,

May justly be reviled,

For choosing such an ugly wretch

As father for a child;

But, further, we should blame her not,
Since, ugly though he be,

She

may have loved the HEBREW as
A real Jew d'esprit."-

"Alas!" cried Ned, "I'm much afraid
The Duchess' fame is o'er;

For all th' esprit she could have liked
Was his-ESPRIT du CORPS !"

March 1833.

STANZAS.

"A hollow agony which will not heal."-BYRON.

I.

I LOOK around-I look around-life has no charm for

me

There is a pang in all I feel-a blight o'er all I see— In vain may joy around me glow, or summer o'er me shine

There is no glance that fondly beams-no heart that throbs to mine.

1 The whole of the Duchess of Berri's case, in reference to the inopportune little intruder, whose semi-parentage is involved in such disedifying obscurity, is best summed up by the able editor of the Dublin Evening Post. "Her Royal Highness," says the sagacious journalist, "being great with child, has formally announced that she was married in Italy. She has been TEN months in FRANCE. Rather distressing for a heroine !"

II.

Amid the bustling crowd I seek to lull within

breast

Affection's thirsting tenderness, that cannot, will

rest

For oh! where'er I turn 'tis but in ceaseless gloom pine

To meet no glance that fondly beams-no heart t throbs to mine.

III.

Again, in peaceful scenes, I try my restless soul

calm

I fly to friendship, wisdom's page, and music's soothi balm

But friendship, wisdom, music's voice, in vain their

combine

They bring no glance that fondly beams-no heart th throbs to mine.

IV.

And yet there is one gentle form-but why th thought recall?

The nectar draught that Love had filled by Fate turned to gall

Those days of hope that last fond night-to Mem ry's tomb consign—

The glance that beamed, the heart that throbbed, ca

ne'er on earth be mine.

October 3rd, 1838.

PIKES versus PIKE!

Suggested by a passage from the speech of a Mr. Pike, of the Metropolitan Conservative Society, in favour of the Orange Corporation of Dublin.

"One good turn deserves another."-OLD PRoverb.

In a late Tory clique, cried a spouter called PIKE(An odd sort of name for such gentry to like !) "Precursor's a runner before,' it is said;

And if Dan, their great chief, his 'two millions' will head,

We'll find them all real Precursors, I'll promise

For we "Protestant boys," would soon make them run from us!"

Now, to gain a "hear, hear," Mr. PIKE, this is well; Nay, ev'n to elicit a "cheer," it may tell ;

But I rather suspect, if you'd risk an attack,

We'd have pikes in our FRONT, and a pike in your

BACK.

December 23rd, 1838.

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