To knock down apple-stalls is now too late, Except to starve some poor old harmless madam;-- You might have done some good, and chang'd our fate, Could you have upset _that_, which ruined Adam! 'Tis useless to prescribe salt-cod and eggs, Or lay post-horses under legal fetters, While Tattersall's on Sunday stirs its _Legs_, Folks look for good examples from their _Betters_! Consider,--Acts of Parliament may bind A man to go where Irvings are discoursing-- But as for forcing "proper frames of mind," Minds are not _framed_, like melons, for such _forcing_! Remember, as a Scottish legislator, The Scotch Kirk always has a Moderator; Meaning one need not ever be sojourning In a long Sermon Lane without a turning. Such grave old maids as Portia and Zenobia May like discourses with a skein of threads, And love a lecture for its many heads, But as for me, I have the Hydra-phobia. Religion one should never overdo: Right know I am no minister you be, For you would say your service, sir, to me, Till I should say, "My service, sir, to you." Six days made all that is, you know, and then Came that of rest--by holy ordination, As if to hint unto the sons of men, After creation should come re-creation. Read right this text, and do not further search To make a Sunday Workhouse of the Church. THE LOST HEIR. "Oh where, and oh where Is my bonny laddie gone?" _Old Song_. One day, as I was going by That part of Holborn christened High, I heard a loud and sodden cry, That chill'd my very blood; And lo! from out a dirty alley, Where pigs and Irish wont to rally, I saw a crazy woman sally, Bedaub'd with grease and mud. She turn'd her East, she turn'd her West, Staring like Pythoness possest, With streaming hair and heaving breast, As one stark mad with grief. This way and that she wildly ran, Jostling with woman and with man-- Her right hand held a frying pan, The left a lump of beef. At last her frenzy seemed to reach A point just capable of speech, And with a tone almost a screech, As wild as ocean bird's, Or female Banter mov'd to preach, She gave her "sorrow-words."