There's an old yellow admiral living at Bath, As grey as a badger, as thin as a lath; And his very queer eyes have such very queer leers, They seem to be trying to peep at his ears. That old yellow admiral gs to the Rooms, And he plays long whist, but he frets and fumes, For all his knaves stand upside down, And the Jack of clubs ds nothing but frown; And the kings, and the aces, and all the best trumps, Get into the hands of the other old frumps; While, close to his partner, a man he sees Counting the tricks with his head on his knees. In Ratcliffe Highway there's an old marine store, And a great black doll hangs out at the door; There are rusty locks, and dusty bags, And musty phials, and fusty rags, And a lusty old woman, called Thirsty Nan, And her crusty old husband's a hairy-faced man! That hairy-faced man is sallow and wan, And his great thick pigtail is wither'd and gone; And he cries, "Take away that lubberly chap That sits there and grins with his head in his lap!" And the neighbours say, as they see him look sick, "What a rum old covey is Hairy-faced Dick!" That admiral, lady, and hairy-faced man May say what they please, and may do what they can; But one thing seems remarkably clear,-- They may die to-morrow, or live till next year,-- But wherever they live, or whenever they die, They'll never get quit of young Hamilton Tighe. NIGHTS AT SEA: _Or, Sketches of Naval Life during the War_. BY THE OLD SAILOR. THE CAPTAIN'S CABIN. For the purple Nautilus is my boat, In which I over the waters float; The moon is shining upon the sea. Who is there will come and sail with me?--L.E.L.