DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR’S BED-CHAMBER. Where the Red Lion staring o’er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay; Where Calvert’s butt, and Parson’s black champaign. Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury Lane; There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug, The Muse found Scroggen stretch’d beneath a rug; A window patch’d with paper, lent a ray, That dimly shew’d the state in which he lay; The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread: The humid wall with paltry pictures spread: The Royal game of goose was there in view, And the twelve rules the royal martyr drew; The seasons, fram’d with listing, found a place, And brave Prince William shew’d his lamp-black face: The morn was cold, he views with keen desire The rusty grate unconscious of a fire: With beer and milk arrears, the frieze was scor’d, And five cracked tea-cups dress’d the chimney-board; A night-cap deck’d his brows instead of bay A cap by night――a stocking all the day! OLIVER GOLDSMITH. ―――― BEAUTIES OF THE GREAT MASTERS. THE STREET ARTIST. Where sturdy beggars, blocking up the way, Molest each passing pilgrim that can pay; Where generous souls, unused to sights of pain, Toss half-pence to the cripples in the lane; There on a wintry morning, clad in rags, The Kid found Tompkins shivering on the flags―― A ragged beard disguised his sallow cheeks, Which plainly showed he hadn’t shaved for weeks; And o’er the pavement――green, and blue, and red―― In coloured chalk, his paltry pictures spread; Maxims of charity were there in view, And next a bunch of grapes the artist drew, Then half a mackerel, (or perhaps a plaice), And great Napoleon showed his well-known face―― The morn was cold――he takes with down-cast eye The offerings of the pitying passers-by―― How changed the scene, when, to his home returned, He meets his pals, and boasts the tin he’s earned―― With steaks and beer his vigour is restored, And crack companions grace his festive board―― He dons a coat――his rags he throws away―― A swell by night――a beggar all the day. _The Month._ By Albert Smith and John Leech. Dec. 1851. ――――:o:―――― THE DESERTED VILLAGE. The following imitation was originally published by Messrs. Parker, of 377, Strand, London, but no date is given. THE DOOMED VILLAGE. A Poem, dedicated to the Right Honourable John Bright.