The little Boats they skip, Beside the heavy Shipping, While the squalling Winds are calling, Falling, rising, Rising, falling, All are fond of skipping! The pale Diana skips, The silver billows tipping, With a dancing Lustre glancing To the motion Of the ocean-- All are fond of skipping! The little Flounders skip, When they feel the dripping; Scorching, frying, Jumping, trying If there is not Any shying, All are fond of skipping! The very Dogs they skip, While threatened with a whipping, Wheeling, prancing, Learning dancing, To a measure, What a pleasure! All are fond of skipping! The little Fleas they skip, And nightly come a nipping, Lord and Lady, Jude and Thady, In the night So dark and shady-- All are fond of skipping! The Autumn Leaves they skip; When blasts the trees are stripping; Bounding, whirling, Sweeping, twirling, And in wanton Mazes curling, All are fond of skipping! The Apparitions skip, Some mortal grievance ripping, Thorough many A crack and cranny, And the keyhole Good as any-- Are all fond of skipping! But oh! how Readers skip, In heavy volumes dipping! * * * * * and * * * * * * * * * and * * * * * * * * and * * * * * * * * * * * * * All are fond of skipping! A BUTCHER. Whoe’er has gone thro’ London Street, Has seen a Butcher gazing at his meat, And how he keeps Gloating upon a sheep’s Or bullock’s personals, as if his own; How he admires his halves, And quarters--and his calves, As if in truth upon his own legs grown;-- _His_ fat! _his_ suet! _His_ kidneys peeping elegantly thro’ it! _His_ thick flank! And _his_ thin! _His_ shank! _His_ shin! Skin of his skin, and bone too of his bone! With what an air He stands aloof, across the thoroughfare Gazing--and will not let a body by, Tho’ buy! buy! buy! be constantly his cry; Meanwhile his arms a-kimbo, and a pair Of Rhodian legs, he revels in a stare At his Joint Stock--for one may call it so, Howbeit without a _Co._ The dotage of self-love was never fonder Than he of his brute bodies all a-row.