"Some think we bards have nothing real-- That poets live among the stars, so Their very dinners are ideal,-- (And heaven knows, too oft they are so:) For instance, that we have, instead Of vulgar chops and stews, and hashes, First course,--a phoenix at the head, Done in its own celestial ashes: At foot, a cygnet, which kept singing All the time its neck was wringing. Side dishes, thus,--Minerva's owl, Or any such like learned fowl; Doves, such as heaven's poulterer gets When Cupid shoots his mother's pets. Larks stew'd in morning's roseate breath, Or roasted by a sunbeam's splendour; And nightingales, be-rhymed to death-- Like young pigs whipp'd to make them tender Such fare may suit those bards who're able To banquet at Duke Humphrey's table; But as for me, who've long been taught To eat and drink like other people, And can put up with mutton, bought Where Bromham rears its ancient steeple; If Lansdowne will consent to share My humble feast, though rude the fare Yet, seasoned by that salt he brings From Attica's salinest springs, 'Twill turn to dainties; while the cup, Beneath his influence brightening up, Like that of Baucis, touched by Jove, Will sparkle fit for gods above!" * * * * * THE POETS IN A PUZZLE. Cottle, in his Life of Coleridge, relates the following amusing incident:-- "I led the horse to the stable, when a fresh perplexity arose. I removed the harness without difficulty; but, after many strenuous attempts, I could not remove the collar. In despair, I called for assistance, when aid soon drew near. Mr. Wordsworth brought his ingenuity into exercise; but, after several unsuccessful efforts, he relinquished the achievement, as a thing altogether impracticable. Mr. Coleridge now tried his hand, but showed no more grooming skill than his predecessors; for, after twisting the poor horse's neck almost to strangulation and the great danger of his eyes, he gave up the useless task, pronouncing that the horse's head must have grown (gout or dropsy?) since the collar was put on; for he said 'it was a downright impossibility for such a huge _os frontis_ to pass through so narrow a collar!' Just at this instant, a servant-girl came near, and, understanding the cause of our consternation, 'La! master,' said she, 'you don't go about the work in the right way. You should do like this,' when, turning the collar completely upside down, she slipped it off in a moment, to our great humiliation and wonderment, each satisfied afresh that there were heights of knowledge in the world to which we had not yet attained." * * * * * SALE OF MAGAZINES.