And hard he had fared, But the people were scared By what the Interpreter roundly declared: “You ignorant Turks! You will be your own Burkes-- He holds all the keys of the lunary works! “You’d best let him go-- If you keep him below, The Moon will not change, and the tides will not flow; He left her at full, And with such a long pull, Zounds! ev’ry man Jack will run mad like a bull!” So awful a threat Took effect on the set; The fright, tho’, was more than their Guest could forget; So taking a jump, In the car he came plump, And threw all the ballast right out in a lump. Up soar’d the machine, With its yellow and green; But still the pale face of the Creature was seen, Who cried from the car, “_Dam in yooman bi gar!_” That is,--“What a sad set of villains you are!” Howbeit, at some height, He threw down quite a flight Of Almanacks, wishing to set us all right-- And, thanks to the boon, We shall see very soon If Murphy knows most, or the Man in the Moon! A ROW AT THE OXFORD ARMS. “Glorious Apollo, from on high behold us.”--OLD SONG. As latterly I chanced to pass A Public House, from which, alas! The Arms of Oxford dangle! My ear was startled by a din, That made me tremble in my skin, A dreadful hubbub from within, Of voices in a wrangle-- Voices loud, and voices high, With now and then a party-cry, Such as used in times gone by To scare the British border; When foes from North and South of Tweed-- Neighbours--and of Christian creed-- Met in hate to fight and bleed, Upsetting Social Order. Surprised, I turn’d me to the crowd, Attracted by that tumult loud, And ask’d a gazer, beetle-brow’d, The cause of such disquiet. When lo! the solemn-looking man, First shook his head on Burleigh’s plan, And then, with fluent tongue, began His version of the riot: