_Firmly screw'd upon the door Doth the lion-knocker frown. To-night its reign of noise is o'er; Courage! boys; we'll have it down! Long its strength defied Every dodge we tried; But its nuts no more shall bear it, From the hinge to-night we'll tear it._ Varied parts of good and ill It has been its lot to fill. Many hearts within have bounded As the postman's knock has sounded. Cheek has flushed, and pulse has fluttered, When the written name was uttered. It might be from one most dear, Though far off, yet ever near; Or from one in hopes "you will Think about his little bill;" Or a letter overland, Sent from Ramjamjellyland, Telling how the ardent Coolies Had well thrashed the crafty Foolies; Or a dinner invitation, Or a Frankfort speculation, Or a life association, Or some hints on emigration, Or a looked-for explanation Of a former altercation; Retail changes lately made In some wine and spirit trade; Vows, professions, gift, or token, Promises, or kept or broken: Each and all, with double din, Has the knocker usher'd in. [Illustration] _At the corner place a scout, For the vigilant police; Let him keep a sharp look-out, And, if need be, break the peace. From the stone-jug free Must our party be, Though we keep so by a fight, Or a witch-like flight by night._ He who knocks and runs away, May live to knock another day. Let caution, then, all mischief guide, For fear some danger should betide. With watchful eyes the boys advance, Accomplishing a nigger dance, Performed upon the paving-stones, To sound of Ethiopian bones, With air appropriate, from their store, Of "Who dat knockin' at de door?" Now, as they near the destined sill, Hush'd are bones—the dance is still. One mighty BANG! the servant scares, And lifts the inmates from their chairs. Away! Away! not one remains When the sold maid the passage gains, And, as the neighbourhood they quit, Agree their knock has prov'd a hit.