were stolen (and spoilt in the stealing), from Sir John Suckling’s inimitable _Ballad upon a Wedding_: Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But oh! she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight. ―――― THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. (Born in Bath, 1797. Died at Cheltenham, April 22, 1839.) [Illustration: T]he songs of this prolific writer, which but sixty years ago were exceedingly popular, are now nearly forgotten, A few old-fashioned people may be heard to warble “She wore a wreath of Roses,” or “I’d be a butterfly,” whilst “Perfection,” perhaps the best known of Bayly’s dramatic pieces, is still occasionally played to afford some graceful actress an opportunity of displaying her varied attainments. The author of “Perfection” had to contend with many difficulties before he could get his piece performed. It was rejected at Covent Garden Theatre and several other houses, but was finally accepted at Drury Lane. With Madame Vestris, as Kate O’Brien, it achieved a great success, but several of Bayly’s other dramatic productions were less fortunate, and he had nothing to depend upon but the precarious income of a journalist for his support. His songs, though exceedingly popular, brought him small pecuniary returns during his lifetime, but after his death his widow derived a small sum from the sale of his collected works. Although but a poor and struggling author, it suited the editor of _Fraser’s Magazine_ to sneer at this amiable and harmless versifier, and in volume iv. of that magazine these lines will be found in the _Lay of the Twaddle School_:―― “Satins and silks I sang gravely and gaily, And the bard of the boudoir was Thomas Haynes Bayly; With my butterflies, buttercups, butter-flowers daily, I buttered my bread,――heigh, for Thomas Haynes Bayly. With my songs and my sonnets, the girls I wooed frailly, Tom Moore, the chaste model of Thomas Haynes Bayly; Apollo,――though radiant his rays,――shines but palely, When the eyes of the fair shine on Thomas Haynes Bayly. With miniature Lyrics, the muse did I waylay, And a miniature picture of Thomas Haynes Bayly; I sang about Bath, till I bothered them really, And eclipsed was Kit Anstey by Thomas Haynes Bayly; Herrick, Waller, Burns, Byron, Moore, Morris and Shelley, Were poor sing-song strummers to Thomas Haynes Bayly.” But these songs, which sixty years ago every one was singing, are now so seldom heard, that some of the parodies would be quite unintelligible unless accompanied by the originals. SHE WORE A WREATH OF ROSES.