“So one averred, so all who heard―― The thought my bosom rives―― ‘Ah! wretch,’ said they, ‘the Bill to slay That saves the sailors’ lives―― The Bill that spares a nation’s shame―― Orphans and widowed wives.’” * * * * * That night I dreamed when every voice Was still, and closed each eye―― The western wave was all aflame, And as I stood thereby, A coffin-ship drave suddenly Betwixt me and the sky. And strait the sun was flecked with bars, Where the timbers shrank apace; As if through a dungeon grate it peered, It looked through that disgrace. And soon the rotten ship began To founder on the wave; “She will go down with every hand, And none have power to save!” One after one I saw them go, Too quick for groan or sigh; Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. I looked beneath the eddying sea, And drew my eyes away―― I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay; “The many men so beautiful! And they all dead did lie; And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on――and so did I.” * * * * * _Funny Folks._ August 14, 1875. ―――― YE RIME OF YE ANCIENT DOWAGER. It is an ancient dowager, And she stoppeth one of three―― By thy kid-gloved hand, and gold rimmed glass, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? “The Albion’s doors are opened wide, Its board I would not miss, Taylor’s forewarn’d, my chop is on, Dost hear its merry hiss?” She holds him with her kid-gloved hand: “There was a man,” quoth she―― “Oh, don’t detain me, dowager!” Eftsoons her hand dropt she. She held him with her glittering eye, Seen through her _pince-nez_ glass; He listens, like a three-years’ child, Although he feels an ass. He leans upon her brougham door, He cannot choose but hear, And this she said, with bended head―― That ancient dowager!―― “The house was packed, it is a fact, No space there could I see, ’Twas full in boxes and in stalls, In pit and gallerie. “The music done, two scenes did run, Then from the wings came he; His face was brown, his hair hung down―― ’Twas beautiful to see. “His robes were red-dy, very red; The scenery was grand; But, when he spoke, it was no joke His words to understand. “Scene after scene, speech after speech, He spoke; and I’ve a notion He wished to show the House that he’d Found out Perpetual Motion. “Motion, motion, all the time, Till I began to blink―― Motion, motion, all the time, And much too much, I think. “His very eyebrows moved; O fie! But, ’tis no empty gag,―― Nay, ’tis a fact, in the last act, I thought his ears would wag “Above, below, and to and fro, Down, up, and round about, His body and his limbs did go As he did mouth and spout.