And so it is with all The warriors ranged in line, With lace bedizened fine And swords gold-hilted-- Yon lusty corporal, Yon color-man who gripes The flag of Stars and Stripes-- Has each been jilted? Come, each man of this line, The privates strong and tall, "The pioneers and all," The fifer nimble-- Lieutenant and Ensign, Captain with epaulets, And Blacky there, who beats The clanging cymbal-- O cymbal-beating black, Tell us, as thou canst feel, Was it some Lucy Neal Who caused thy ruin? O nimble fifing Jack, And drummer making din So deftly on the skin, With thy rat-tattooing. Confess, ye volunteers, Lieutenant and Ensign, And Captain of the line, As bold as Roman-- Confess, ye grenadiers, However strong and tall, The Conqueror of you all Is Woman, Woman! No corselet is so proof, But through it from her bow, The shafts that she can throw Will pierce and rankle. No champion e'er so tough, But's in the struggle thrown, And tripped and trodden down By her slim ankle. Thus, always it has ruled, And when a woman smiled, The strong man was a child, The sage a noodle. Alcides was befooled, And silly Samson shorn, Long, long ere you were born, Poor Yankee Doodle! COURTSHIP AND MATRIMONY. A POEM, IN TWO CANTOS. PUNCH. CANTO THE FIRST. COURTSHIP. Fairest of earth! if thou wilt hear my vow, Lo! at thy feet I swear to love thee ever; And by this kiss upon thy radiant brow, Promise afiection which no time shall sever; And love which e'er shall burn as bright as now, To be extinguished--never, dearest, never! Wilt thou that naughty, fluttering heart resign? CATHERINE! my own sweet Kate! wilt thou be mine? Thou shalt have pearls to deck thy raven hair-- Thou shalt have all this world of ours can bring, And we will live in solitude, nor care For aught save for each other. We will fling Away all sorrow--Eden shall be there! And thou shalt be my queen, and I thy king! Still coy, and still reluctant? Sweetheart say, When shall we monarchs be? and which the day? CANTO THE SECOND. MATRIMONY. Now MRS. PRINGLE, once for all, I say I will not such extravagance allow! Bills upon bills, and larger every day, Enough to drive a man to drink, I vow! Bonnets, gloves, frippery and trash--nay, nay, Tears, MRS. PRINGLE, will not gull me now-- I say I won't allow ten pounds a week; I can't afford it; madam, do not speak! In wedding you I thought I had a treasure; I find myself most miserably mistaken! You rise at ten, then spend the day in pleasure;-- In fact, my confidence is slightly shaken. Ha! what's that uproar? This, ma'am, is my leisure; Sufficient noise the slumbering dead to waken! I seek retirement, and I find--a riot; Confound those children, but I'll make them quiet! CONCERNING SISTERS-IN-LAW. PUNCH. I.