So now--send round the hat--and three
cheers for
PUNCH'S POLITICS.
* * * * *
SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.
No. 1.
O Reveal, thou fay-like stranger,
Why this lonely path you seek;
Every step is fraught with danger
Unto one so fair and meek.
Where are they that _should_ protect thee
In this darkling hour of doubt?
Love _could_ never thus neglect thee!--
_Does your mother know you're out?_
Why so pensive, Peri-maiden?
Pearly tears bedim thine eyes!
Sure thine heart is overladen,
When each breath is fraught with sighs.
Say, hath care life's heaven clouded,
Which hope's stars were wont to spangle?
What hath all thy gladness shrouded?--
_Has your mother sold her mangle?_
* * * * *
A PUBLIC CONVENIENCE.
We are requested to state, by the Marquis of W----, that, for the
convenience of the public, he has put down one of his carriages, and given
orders to Pearce, of Long-acre, for the construction of an easy and elegant
_stretcher.
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