A DREADFUL ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE AND THE POET BUNN. On LIND, when Drury’s sun was low, And bootless was the wild-beast show, The lessee counted for a flow Of rhino to the treasury. But JENNY LIND, whose waken’d sight Saw Drury in a proper light, Refused, for any sum per night, To sing at the Menagerie. With rage and ire in vain display’d, Each super drew his wooden blade, In fury half, and half afraid For his prospective salary. BUNN in a flaming frenzy flew, And speedily the goose quill drew, With which he was accustomed to Pen such a deal of poetry. He wrote the maiden to remind Her of a compact she had signed, To Drury Lane’s condition blind, And threatened law accordingly. Fair as in face, in nature, she Implored the man to set her free, Assuring him that he should be Remunerated handsomely. Two thousand pounds she offered, so That he would only let her go; BUNN, who would have his bond, said NO! With dogged pertinacity. And, now, his action let him bring, {310} And try how much the law will wring From her to do the handsome thing, Who had proposed so readily! The Swedish Nightingale to cage, He failed; she sought a fitting stage, And left him to digest his rage, And seek his legal remedy. Then shook the House, with plaudits riven, When JENNY’S opening note was given, The sweetest songstress under heaven Forth bursting into melody. But fainter the applause shall grow, At waning Drury’s wild-beast show, And feebler still shall be the flow Of rhino to the treasury. The Opera triumphs! LUMLEY brave, Thy bacon thou shalt more than save; Wave, London, all thy ’kerchiefs wave, And cheer with all thy chivalry. ’Tis night; and still yon star doth run; But all in vain for treasurer DUNN, And Mr. HUGHES, and poet BUNN, And quadrupeds, and company. For Sweden’s Nightingale so sweet, Their fellowship had been unmeet, The sawdust underneath whose feet Hath been the Drama’s sepulchre.” Died on 15th May, at Genoa, on his route to Rome, aged 72, Daniel O’Connell, the erst “uncrowned King of Ireland,” who, during his lifetime, had been a thorn (and a very troublesome one) in the side of every English government. His heart was forwarded to Rome, but his body was embalmed, and, in due time, was sent to Ireland for interment.