Be particular with the pagoda: and then here’s this pretty bowl-- The Chinese Prince is making love to nothing because of this hole; And here’s another Chinese man, with a face just like a doll-- Do stick his pigtail on again, and just mend his parasol. But I needn’t tell you what to do; only do it out of hand, And charge whatever you like to charge--my Lady won’t make a stand. Well! good morning, Mr. What-d’ye-call; for it’s time our gossip ended: And you know the proverb, the less as is said, the sooner the Chiney’s mended. ON A PICTURE OF HERO AND LEANDER. Why, Lover, why Such a water rover? Would she love thee more For coming _half seas over_? Why, Lady, why, So in love with dipping? Must a lad of _Greece_ Come all over _dripping_? Why, Cupid, why Make the passage brighter? Were not any boat Better than a _lighter_? Why, Madam, why So intrusive standing? Must thou be on the stair When he’s on the _landing_? MISS FANNY’S FAREWELL FLOWERS. Not “the posie of a ring.” SHAKESPEARE (all but the _not_). I came to town a happy man: I need not now dissemble Why I return so sad at heart-- It’s all through Fanny Kemble: Oh! when she threw her flowers away, What urged the tragic slut on To weave in such a wreath as that, Ah me! a bachelor’s button. None fought so hard, none fought so well, As I to gain some token-- When all the pit rose up in arms, And heads and hearts were broken; “Huzza!” said I, “I’ll have a flower As sure as my name’s Dutton;”-- I made a snatch--I got a catch-- By Jove! a bachelor’s button! I’ve lost my watch--my hat is smashed-- My clothes declare the racket; I went there in a full dress coat, And came home in a jacket. My nose is swell’d--my eye is black-- My lip I’ve got a cut on! Odds buds!--and what a bud to get-- The deuce! a bachelor’s button! My chest’s in pain; I really fear I’ve somewhat hurt my bellows, By pokes and punches in the ribs From those _herb-strewing fellows_. I miss two teeth in my front row; My corn has had a _fut_ on; And all this pain I’ve had to gain This cursed bachelor’s button. Had I but won a rose--a bud-- A pansy--or a daisy-- A periwinkle--anything-- But this--it drives me crazy! My very sherry tastes like squills, I can’t enjoy my mutton; And when I sleep I dream of it-- Still--still----a bachelor’s button My place is book’d per coach to-night, But oh, my spirit trembles To think how country friends will ask Of Knowleses and of Kembles. If they should breathe about the wreath, When I go back to Sutton, I shall not dare to show my share, That all!--a bachelor’s button!