See the dressy little swells―― Snobby swells! What a world of happiness that Moses’ paletot tells! Through the murky air of night, How they shout out their delight, From their Cashmere-shawled throats, And out of tune, What a drunken ditty floats To the gas-lamps shining on policemen’s coats, On their shoon! Oh, from out the Bow-street cells, What a gush of harmony uproariously wells! How it smells! How it knells―― For the morrow! how it tells Of the folly that impels To the laughing and the quaffing Of the swells, swells, swells, Of the swells, swells, swells, swells, Swells, swells, swells, Of the dining and the fine-ing of the swells! See the literary swells―― Writing swells! What a tale of envy now their turbulency tells, How they quarrel, snarl, and fight With each other as they write! Much too dignified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, With their pen, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the buyer, In a mad expostulation with the dazed and doubting buyer! And they leap high, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavour Now――now to sit or never―― On a throne above all other men. See the venerable swells! By-gone swells! What a world of solemn thoughts their gaiety compels! In their ancient fashioned coats, In their stiff cravatted throats, How we recognize the Regent and his _corps_! There remains now not e’en one, All, all the set are gone, _Ils sont morts_! Save the few men――ah! these few men! Who are left among the new men All alone! And who toiling, toiling, toiling, Through their days, mere skin and bone, Feel a pleasure now in spoiling Each hearty, healthy tone―― Do these swells, swells, swells, These swells, swells, swells, swells, Swells, swells, swells, These worn-out used up, godless, ancient swells! _Our Miscellany._――By E. H. YATES and R. B. BROUGH, 1857. ――――:o:―――― THE BALL-ROOM BELLES. See, the ball-room full of belles, Merry belles, What an evening of flirtation their merriment foretells. How they chatter, chatter, chatter, Through the mazy Mabel valse. Mothers glancing, but what matter! Pleasant partners how they flatter, Never dreaming girls are false When they sigh, sigh, sigh, And pretend that they would die―― But they dream of expectations of the golden studded swells Hear the belles, belles, belles, belles, Belles, belles, belles, Hear the laughing and the chaffing of the belles.