Thus far our Dean,--but happier times Now wait on bolder, deadlier crimes, When wisdom mourns o'er wise restraints, And murd'rers serve for martyred saints. With laws so changed, a realm's disgrace Springs from a pot-boy 'out of place;' When all but starts the maudlin tear, For sufferings of a Courvoisier; And Pity grasps the hand imbrued In a confiding master's blood! When the most hardened knave has hope Of all things needful--but a rope! And nought excites the mortal pang, Save to behold a felon hang. And why? Howe'er the de'il may angle, In his 'right mind' no man would dangle; Or, 'Monomania' far away, Have a clear right to Bot'ny Bay; For I've no trouble in believing A 'Monomania' for thieving! What fee, then, shall that Counsel grace, Who'll fairly make out such a 'case?' Can such 'opinion' e'er be bought? I'm quite 'transported' at the thought! Let sober Judges, then, give way, And let Mad-doctors have the sway! Let all things (for a time) be shown As only right when upside down! Yet while these 'epochs' intervene, Well may we cry, "GOD" save our Queen! Now call me Whig, or call me Tory, Wise rulers all, I yet implore ye, Some better safeguard may be known Both for the people and the throne; For though no Radical, most sure I grudge the Hangman's sinecure! THE HOUSEKEEPER. A FAV'RITE Footman you must have, Always the most tit-bits to save; Watchful for something 'none the worse,' Or untouch'd from the second course, It doesn't matter what precisely,-- You and the Steward 'cook it nicely.' [Illustration: THE CHAMBERMAID.] THE CHAMBERMAID.