Must you, Carnegie, evermore explain Your worth, and all the reasons give again Why black and red are similarly white, And you and God identically right? Still must our ears without redress submit To hear you play the solemn hypocrite Walking in spirit some high moral level, Raising at once his eye-balls and the devil? Great King of Cant! if Nature had but made Your mouth without a tongue I ne'er had prayed To have an earless head. Since she did not, Bear me, ye whirlwinds, to some favored spot-- Some mountain pinnacle that sleeps in air So delicately, mercifully rare That when the fellow climbs that giddy hill, As, for my sins, I know at last he will, To utter twaddle in that void inane His soundless organ he will play in vain. UNEXPOUNDED. On Evidence, on Deeds, on Bills, On Copyhold, on Loans, on Wills, Lawyers great books indite; The creaking of their busy quills I've never heard on Right. FRANCE. Unhappy State! with horrors still to strive: Thy Hugo dead, thy Boulanger alive; A Prince who'd govern where he dares not dwell, And who for power would his birthright sell-- Who, anxious o'er his enemies to reign, Grabs at the scepter and conceals the chain; While pugnant factions mutually strive By cutting throats to keep the land alive. Perverse in passion, as in pride perverse-- To all a mistress, to thyself a curse; Sweetheart of Europe! every sun's embrace Matures the charm and poison of thy grace. Yet time to thee nor peace nor wisdom brings: In blood of citizens and blood of kings The stones of thy stability are set, And the fair fabric trembles at a threat. THE EASTERN QUESTION. Looking across the line, the Grecian said: "This border I will stain a Turkey red." The Moslem smiled securely and replied: "No Greek has ever for his country dyed." While thus each patriot guarded his frontier, The Powers stole all the country in his rear. A GUEST. Death, are you well? I trust you have no cough That's painful or in any way annoying-- No kidney trouble that may carry you off, Or heart disease to keep you from enjoying Your meals--and ours. 'T were very sad indeed To have to quit the busy life you lead. You've been quite active lately for so old A person, and not very strong-appearing. I'm apprehensive, somehow, that my bold, Bad brother gave you trouble in the spearing. And my two friends--I fear, sir, that you ran Quite hard for them, especially the man. I crave your pardon: 'twas no fault of mine; If you are overworked I'm sorry, very. Come in, old man, and have a glass of wine. What shall it be--Marsala, Port or Sherry? What! just a mug of blood? That's funny grog To ask a friend for, eh? Well, take it, hog! A FALSE PROPHECY.