Peace to his soul! new prospects bloom, And toil rebuilds what fires consume! Eat we and drink we, be our ditty, "Joy to the managing committee!" Eat we and drink we, join to rum Roast beef and pudding of the plum; Forth from thy nook, John Horner, come, With bread of ginger brown thy thumb, For this is Drury's gay day: Roll, roll thy hoop, and twirl thy tops, And buy, to glad thy smiling chops, Crisp parliament with lollypops, And fingers of the Lady. Didst mark, how toiled the busy train, From morn to eve, till Drury Lane Leaped like a roebuck from the plain? Ropes rose and sunk, and rose again, And nimble workmen trod; To realize bold Wyatt's plan Rushed may a howling Irishman; Loud clattered many a porter-can, And many a ragamuffin clan, With trowel and with hod. Drury revives! her rounded pate Is blue, is heavenly blue with slate; She "wings the midway air," elate, As magpie, crow, or chough; White paint her modish visage smears, Yellow and pointed are her ears. No pendant portico appears Dangling beneath, for Whitbread's shears Have cut the bauble off. Yes, she exalts her stately head; And, but that solid bulk outspread, Opposed you on your onward tread, And posts and pillars warranted That all was true that Wyatt said, You might have deemed her walls so thick, Were not composed of stone or brick, But all a phantom, all a trick, Of brain disturbed and fancy-sick, So high she soars, so vast, so quick! DRURY'S DIRGE. [BY LAUBA MATILDA.--REJECTED ADDRESSES.] HORACE SMITH. "You praise our sires: but though they wrote with force, Their rhymes were vicious, and their diction coarse: We want their STRENGTH, agreed; but we atone For that and more, by SWEETNESS all our own"--GIFFORD. Balmy zephyrs, lightly flitting, Shade me with your azure wing; On Parnassus' summit sitting, Aid me, Clio, while I sing. Softly slept the dome of Drury O'er the empyreal crest, When Alecto's sister-fury Softly slumbering sunk to rest. Lo! from Lemnos, limping lamely, Lags the lowly Lord of Fire, Oytherea yielding tamely To the Cyclops dark and dire. Clouds of amber, dreams of gladness, Dulcet joys and sports of youth, Soon must yield to haughty sadness, Mercy holds the vail to Truth. See Erostratus the second Fires again Diana's fane; By the Fates from Orcus beckoned, Clouds envelop Drury Lane. Lurid smoke and frank suspicion Hand in hand reluctant dance: While the god fulfills his mission, Chivarly, resign thy lance. Hark! the engines blandly thunder, Fleecy clouds disheveled lie, And the firemen, mute with wonder, On the son of Saturn cry. See the bird of Ammon sailing, Perches on the engine's peak, And, the Eagle firemen hailing, Soothes them with its bickering beak. Juno saw, and mad with malice, Lost the prize that Paris gave; Jealousy's ensanguined chalice, Mantling pours the orient wave.