_Captain Noah._ Oh, I recollect her. Poor Corinna![14] I could cry for her, Mistress Bliss--a sweet creature! So kind! so lovely! and so good-natured! She would not hurt a fly! Lord! Lord! tried to make every body happy. Gone! Ha! Mistress Bliss, gone! poor soul. Oh! she is in Heaven, depend on it--nothing can hinder it. Oh, Lord, no, nothing--an angel!--an angel by this time--for it must give God very little trouble to make _her_ an angel--she was so charming! Such terrible figures as my Lord C. and my Lady Mary, to be sure, it would take at least a month to make such ones anything like angels--but poor Corinna wanted very few repairs. Perhaps the sweet little soul is now seeing what is going on in our cabin--who knows? Charming little Corinna! Lord! how funny it was, for all the world like a rabbit or a squirrel or a kitten at play. Gone! as you say, Gone! Well now for her epitaph. CORINNA'S EPITAPH. "Here sleeps what was innocence once, but its snows Were sullied and trod with disdain; Here lies what was beauty, but plucked was its rose And flung like a weed to the plain. "O pilgrim! look down on her grave with a sigh Who fell the sad victim of art, Even cruelty's self must bid her hard eye A pearl of compassion impart. "Ah! think not ye prudes that a sigh or a tear Can offend of all nature the God! Lo! Virtue already has mourned at her bier And the lily will bloom on her sod." He wrote some pretty "new-old" ballads--purporting to have been written by Queen Elizabeth, Sir T. Wyatt, &c., on light and generally amorous subjects. Much of his satire was political, and necessarily fleeting. In "Orson and Ellen" he gives a good description of the landlord of a village inn and his daughter, "The landlord had a red round face Which some folks said in fun Resembled the Red Lion's phiz, And some, the rising Sun. "Large slices from his cheeks and chin Like beef-steaks one might cut; And then his paunch, for goodly size Beat any brewer's butt. "The landlord was a boozer stout A snufftaker and smoker; And 'twixt his eyes a nose did shine Bright as a red-hot poker. * * * * * "Sweet Ellen gave the pot with hands That might with thousands vie: Her face like veal, was white and red And sparkling was her eye. "Her shape, the poplar's easy form Her neck the lily's white Soft heaving, like the summer wave And lifting rich delight. "And o'er this neck of globe-like mould In ringlets waved her hair; Ah, what sweet contrast for the eye The jetty and the fair. "Her lips, like cherries moist with dew So pretty, plump, and pleasing, And like the juicy cherry too Did seem to ask for squeezing. "Yet what is beauty's use alack! To market can it go? Say--will it buy a loin of veal, Or round of beef? No--no.