Still the darkness increased, till it reach'd such a pass That the sextoness hasten'd to turn on the gas; But harder it pour'd, And the thunder roar'd, As if heaven and earth were coming together; None ever had witness'd such terrible weather. Now louder it crash'd, And the lightning flash'd, Exciting the fears Of the sweet little dears In the vails, as it danced on the brass chandeliers; The parson ran off, though a stout-hearted Saxon, When he found that a flash had set fire to his caxon. Though all the rest trembled, as might be expected, Sir Rupert was perfectly cool and collected, And endeavor'd to cheer His bride, in her ear Whisp'ring tenderly, "Pray don't be frighten'd, my dear Should it even set fire to the castle, and burn it, you're Amply insured, both for buildings and furniture." But now, from without, A trustworthy scout Rush'd hurriedly in-- Wet through to the skin, Informing his master 'the river was rising, And flooding the grounds in a way quite surprising.' He'd no time to say more, For already the roar Of the waters was heard as they reach'd the church-door, While, high on the first wave that roll'd in, was seen, Riding proudly, the form of the angry Lurline; And all might observe, by her glance fierce and stormy, She was stung by the spretoe injuria formoe. What she said to the Knight, what she said to the bride, What she said to the ladies who stood by her side, What she said to the nice little boys in white clothes, Oh, nobody mentions--for nobody knows; For the roof tumbled in, and the walls tumbled out, And the folks tumbled down, all confusion and rout, The rain kept on pouring, The flood kept on roaring, The billows and water-nymphs roll'd more and more in Ere the close of the day All was clean wash'd away-- One only survived who could hand down the news, A little old woman that open'd the pews; She was borne off, but stuck, By the greatest good luck, In an oak-tree, and there she hung, crying and screaming, And saw all the rest swallow'd up the wild stream in; In vain, all the week, Did the fishermen seek For the bodies, and poke in each cranny and creek; In vain was their search After aught in the church, They caught nothing but weeds, and perhaps a few perch. The Humane Society Tried a variety Of methods, and brought down, to drag for the wreck, tackles But they only fished up the clerk's tortoise-shell spectacles. MORAL.