"I'll mount the coach when the horses are fed!For there's nothing I'd choose, as I'm alive, Like a seat on the box, and a dashing drive!" "Nay, Phaethon, do n't I beg you wont Just stop a moment, and think upon 't! You 're quite too young," continued the sage, Your first appearance on any stage! The cattle are wild, And when their mettle is thorougly 'riled,' You'll rue the day So mind, and don't be foolish, Pha!" And swore aloud, 'Twas just the thing to astonish the crowdHe'd have the horses and would n't be cowed! In vain the boy was cautioned at large, He called for the chargers, unheeding the charge, He had given his word in such a hurry, He gave the youth a bit of advice : "Parce stimulis, utere loris !' (A "stage direction," of which the core is, Don't use the whip-they're ticklish things— But, whatever you do, hold on to the strings!) Remember the rule of the Jehu-tribe is, 'Medio tutissimus ibis' (As the judge remarked to a rowdy Scotchman, Who was going to quod between two watchmen!) So mind your eye, and spare your goad, Be shy of the stones, and keep in the road!” Now Phaethon, perched in the coachman's place, Or bounding along in a steeple-chase! Whack-crack" Resounded along the horses' back!— As all agree, Off the coach was suddenly hurled, MORA L. Don't rashly take to dangerous courses- It's one of Old Nick's Diabolical tricks To get people into a regular "fix," Ex. CXL.-THE SONG OF THE BELL. WAKE, wake, wake! BUFFALO ADVERTISER. Up, sluggard, up! the sun appears: Awake, awake,-thy bed forsake Before the flowers have dried their tears! Before the last star sinks away, Lost in the golden Les of day:— Hark! the matin bell Sounds o'er hill and dell! Bread, bread, bread! Merchant, scholar, and artisan, Hasten, hasten!-the board is spread :- With its peal and swell. One, two, three !— Hark the numbering of the hours! Its oft-told story tell! Fire, fire, fire! Hurry the engine, hearts of oak! For the flame is rising,-higher, higher! Man on the ladder, mind your stroke! Dash in the window,-grasp that child,— Pass him along;-the mother is wild! Peal, peal! the fire bell! Crash, crash!-who was it fell? Toll, toll, toll! As the dark hearse moves o'er the lea. Soon will ring thy knell! Peal, peal, peal! The merry, merry marriage bell! Two hearts are joined, for woe and weal, Together, while life lasts, to dwell. Peal out!—the golden knot is tied :- The joyful tidings tell! Hurra, hurra, hurra! The battle's done, the town is won; The victor-notes swell? Hurry, hurry!-Hark away! The steamship vomits fire and smoke; Rush on board, pell-mell. Pray, pray, pray! The Sabbath bell rings solemnly For thy soul's good. Oh! come away, To guide thee on the road to heaven! To win thy soul from hell! Rest, rest, rest! Weary laborer!-go to thy bed, Ex. CXLI.-PLEASURES OF MEMORY. SWEET Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of time I turn my sail ROGERS. Blessed with far greener shades, far fresher bowers. When joy's bright sun has shed his evening ray, And who can tell the triumphs of the mind Hail, Memory, hail! In thy exhaustless mine Lo! fancy's fairy frost-work melts away; Ex. CXLII.-THE BULL-FIGHT. LOCKHART. KING Almanzor of Granada, he hath bid the trumpet sound, He hath summoned all the Moorish lords from the hills and plains around; From Vega and Sierra, from Betis and Xenil, They have come with helm and cuirass of gold and twisted steel. |