ECCENTRIC AND NONDESCRIPT.

THE JOVIAL PRIEST'S CONFESSION.

TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF WALTER DE MAPES,

TIME OF HENRY II.

I DEVISE to end my days-in a tavern drinking,

LEIGH HUNT.

May some Christian hold for me-the glass when I am shrinking,
That the cherubim may cry-when they see me sinking,
God be merciful to a soul-of this gentleman's way of thinking.

A glass of wine amazingly-enlighteneth one's intervals;
'Tis wings bedewed with nectar-that fly up to supernals;
Bottles cracked in taverns-have much the sweeter kernels,
Than the sups allowed to us-in the college journals.

Every one by nature hath—a mold which he was cast in ;
I happen to be one of those-who never could write fasting;
By a single little boy-I should be surpass'd in

Writing so I'd just as lief-be buried; tomb'd and grass'd in.

Every one by nature hath-a gift too, a dotation:
I, when I make verses-do get the inspiration
Of the very best of wine-that comes into the nation :
It maketh sermons to astound-for edification.

Just as liquor floweth good-floweth forth my lay so;
But I must moreover eat-or I could not say so;
Naught it availeth inwardly-should I write all day so;
But with God's grace after meat—I beat Ovidius Naso.

Neither is there given to me-prophetic animation,
Unless when I have eat and drank-yea, ev'n to saturation;
Then in my upper story-hath Bacchus domination,
And Phoebus rushes into me, and beggareth all relation.

Dic, heris agro at, an da quar to fine ale,

DEAN SWIFT.

Fora ringat ure nos, an da stringat ure tale.*

Dick, here is a groat, a quart o' fine ale,

For a ring at your nose, and a string at your tail.

A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN.

IN THE DORIC MANNER.

DEAN SWIFT.

Shepherd. ECHO, I ween, will in the woods reply,
And quaintly answer questions: shall I try?
Try.

Echo.

Press.

Before.

Shepherd. What must we do our passion to express?
Echo.
Shepherd. How shall I please her, who ne'er loved before?
Echo.
Shepherd. What most moves women when we them address?
Echo.
Shepherd. Say, what can keep her chaste whom I adore?
Echo.

A dress.

A door.

Liar.

Shepherd. If music softens rocks, love tunes my lyre.
Echo.
Shepherd. Then teach me, Echo, how shall I come by her?
Echo.

Buy her.

Her deer.

Shepherd. When bought, no question I shall be her dear?
Echo.
Shepherd. But deer have horns: how must I keep her under?
Echo.
Shepherd. But what can glad me when she's laid on bier?
Echo.

Keep her under.

Beer.

Shepherd. What must I do when women will be kind?
Echo.

Be kind.
Shepherd. What must I do when women will be cross?
Echo.
Be cross.

Shepherd. Lord, what is she that can so turn and wind?
Echo.

Wind.

Shepherd. If she be wind, what stills her when she blows? Echo. Blows. Shepherd. But if she bang again, still should I bang her? Echo.

BANG HER.

Hang her.

Shepherd. Is there no way to moderate her anger?
Echo.
Shepherd. Thanks, gentle Echo! right thy answers tell
What woman is and how to guard her well.
Guard her well.

Echo.

TO MY NOSE.

KNOWS he that never took a pinch,

ANONYMOUS.

Nosey! the pleasure thence which flows?

Knows he the titillating joy

Which my nose knows?

Oh, nose! I am as fond of thee
As any mountain of its snows!
I gaze on thee, and feel that pride

A Roman knows!

ROGER AND DOLLY.

BLACKWOOD.

YOUNG ROGER came tapping at Dolly's window

Thumpaty, thumpaty, thump;

He begg'd for admittance-she answered him no-
Glumpaty, glumpaty, glump.

No, no, Roger, no-as you came you may go-
Stumpaty, stumpaty, stump.

O what is the reason, dear Dolly? he cried-
Humpaty, humpaty, hump-

That thus I'm cast off and unkindly denied?—
Trumpaty, trumpaty, trump-

Some rival more dear, I guess, has been here-

Crumpaty, crumpaty, crump―

Suppose there's been two, sir, pray what's that to you, sir? Numpaty, numpaty, nump

Wi' a disconsolate look his sad farewell he took—

Trumpaty, trumpaty, trump

And all in despair jump'd into a brook

Jumpaty, jumpaty, jump—

His courage did cool in a filthy green pool

Slumpaty, slumpaty, slump

So he swam to the shore, but saw Dolly no more-
Dumpaty, dumpaty, dump—