XXVI.

While the grim patient, with averted face,

Indulges in contortions wild and strange, Sad, as if doctors had pronounced his case,

Such that to hope, no miracle could change: The dose to swallow forced at last to dare, How comical the grin of his despair!

XXVII.

Tom was remembered, and a cordial greeting
Awaited him, for joy, not to be stifled,
Burst from the patient. Till this happy meeting
He verily believed he had been rifled

Of sums not small, which 'scaped his recollection
When given his pocket-book to Tom's protection.

XXVIII.

Announced the sick man's sister, Tom thought fit To take his leave, and finish the adventure,

But t' other would on no account permit,

And Takeall now saw Mrs. Bosky enter. She recognised the painter, who so like Made portraits that they even sitters strike.

XXIX.

Takeall compelled to stay, and dine and sup,
And pressed his visits daily to repeat,
Found the connexion worthy keeping up ;

And frequently repaired to Coleman-Street.

Dabbling a little in the artist's trade,
Through Mrs. Bosky he some guineas made.

XXX.

But Mr. Wiggins, Mrs. Bosky's brother,

Soon learned that Tom desired a poet's fame, And this he thought the stripling gave another

Claim on his kindness, and no common claim : For this disclosed, he henceforth might regard His sister's painter, as a brother bard.

XXXI.

66

And I," to Takeall he exclaimed one day,

66

However like a common plodding elf, Have done at times a little in your way,

Of the chaste Nine, a worshipper myself: Through this I went to Margate t'other day, To pick up rhymes and figures by the way.

XXXII.

Ah then what fires could animate my soul!

These kept me warm, while thro' the chill of eve, 'Twas mine along the ocean's edge to stroll,

And mine the storm's first splashings to receive, And there while gazing on the lurid sky,

I burst forth in delicious rhapsody.

Ghe Alderman's Parody.

"Non usitata, nec tenui ferar."

A twofold poet, on no timid wing,
I will undauntedly through ether spring,

On vulgar earth no longer I'll be stopping.
Superior to the envious, I leave town,
My country box in Hornsey-Lane lay down,

And bid adieu to warehouses at Wapping.

Adopted as the Muses' favourite, I
Have made a resolution not to die;

I'll scorn the stern restrictions of the Styx,
And feathered over shoulders, body, hands,
Changed to a bird, I'll visit other lands,

My merry warblings with their songs to mix.

Swifter than Icarus I'll air pass through,
Or he who from thy Bridge, O Waterloo,
Intends to fly some windy morn in May* ;
The Bosphorus, and the Getulian waste
I'll seek, to Hyperborean lands I'll haste,
Delighting all who hear me on my way.

* An exhibition of wings was lately advertised, with which the Proprietor proposed to fly from Waterloo-Bridge, in the month of May, when the wind should serve.