So with certain designers, one needs not to name, As a Warehouse for Family Mourning! But before your own picture arrives at that pitch, While the lights are still light, and the shadows, though rich, More transparent than ebony shutters, Never minding what Black-Arted critics may say, Stop the biting, and pour the green fluid away, As you please, into bottles or gutters. Then removing the ground and the wax at a heat, Cleanse the surface with oil, spermaceti, or sweet For your hand a performance scarce proper— So some careful professional person secureFor the Laundress will not be a safe amateurTo assist you in cleaning the copper. And, in truth, 'tis a rather unpleasantish job, Thus your Etching complete, it remains but to hint, You may charm all sad tale Friends your Of such perils and ills as beset Lady Sale- DEATH'S RAMBLE. ONE day the dreary old King of Death His head was bald of flesh and of hair His joints at each stir made a crack, and the cur And what did he do with his deadly darts, He dabbled and spill'd man's blood, and he kill'd The first he slaughter'd it made him laugh, (For the man was a coffin-maker,) To think how the mutes, and men in black suits, Would mourn for an undertaker. Death saw two Quakers sitting at church, And he let them alone, like figures of stone, He saw two duellists going to fight, In fear they could not smother; And he shot one through at once-for he knew They never would shoot each other. He saw a watchman fast in his box, And he gave a snore infernal; Said Death," He may keep his breath, for his sleep Can never be more eternal." He met a coachman driving his coach Death saw a tollman taking a toll, But he knew that sort of man would extort, He found an author writing his life, Death saw a patient that pull'd out his purse, But he let them be-for he knew that the "fee" He met a dustman ringing a bell, And he gave him a mortal thrust; For himself, by law, since Adam's flaw, Is contractor for all our dust. He saw a sailor mixing his grog, And he mark'd him out for slaughter; For on water he scarcely had cared for Death, And never on rum-and-water. Death saw two players playing at cards, |