And this, you will observe, was the reason why WAN HUMBUG, on weak grounds, Was forced to make believe that he heard his cry In all unlikely sounds. So, there wasn't a bleat from an Essex Calf, Or a Duke, or a Lordling slim; But he said, with a wery triumphant laugh, 'I'm blest if that ain't him.' At length, wery bald in his mane and tail, The British Lion growed: He pined, and declined, and he satisfied The last debt which he owed. And when they came to examine the skin, It was a wonder sore, To find that the an-i-mal within Was nothing but a Boar! Right toor rol, loor rol, fee faw fum, The British Lion bold! That was always a-going for to do great things, And was always being 'sold!' CATNACH. II. THE HYMN OF THE WILTSHIRE LABOURERS THE HYMN OF THE WILTSHIRE LABOURERS 'Don't you all think that we have a great need to Cry to our God to put it in the hearts of our greassous Queen and her Members of Parlerment to grant us free bread!' LUCY SIMPKINS, _at Bremhill_. Oh GOD, who by Thy Prophet's hand Didst smite the rocky brake, Whence water came, at Thy command, Thy people's thirst to slake; Strike, now, upon this granite wall, Stern, obdurate, and high; And let some drops of pity fall For us who starve and die! The GOD, who took a little child, And set him in the midst, And promised him His mercy mild, As, by Thy Son, Thou didst: Look down upon our children dear, So gaunt, so cold, so spare, And let their images appear Where Lords and Gentry are! Oh GOD, teach them to feel how we, When our poor infants droop, Are weakened in our trust in Thee, And how our spirits stoop; For, in Thy rest, so bright and fair, All tears and sorrows sleep: And their young looks, so full of care, Would make Thine Angels weep! The GOD, who with His finger drew The Judgment coming on, Write, for these men, what must ensue, Ere many years be gone! Oh GOD, whose bow is in the sky, Let them not brave and dare, Until they look (too late) on high, And see an Arrow there! Oh GOD, remind them! In the bread They break upon the knee, These sacred words may yet be read, 'In memory of Me!' Oh GOD, remind them of His sweet Compassion for the poor, And how He gave them Bread to eat, And went from door to door! CHARLES DICKENS. NEW SONG LINES ADDRESSED TO MARK LEMON 1849 NEW SONG Dickens, like Silas Wegg, would sometimes 'drop into poetry' when writing to intimate friends, as, for example, in a letter to Maclise, the artist, which began with a parody of Byron's lines to Thomas Moore-- 'My foot is in the house, My bath is on the sea, And, before I take a souse, Here's a single note to thee.'