The undying and the doom'd may whine,
Yet find their woes outdone;

For what their fate compared with mine-
The uninvited one?

HIS WORSHIP.

[Music by DIBDIN.

CHARLES DIBDIN.]
HIS worship, Justice Gander, sworn new'y of the peace,
Resolved to set the neighbours together by the ears,
Of the half-crowns and the shillings their pockets well
to fleece,

Regardless of the public, their praises or their sneers. Master Matthew was his clerk, a keen and cunning wight,

Studied Cunningham and Burn, for the law has various meanings:

"Remember," cried his worship, "when I'm wrong to set me right,

For you're my representative, factotum, locum tenens."

Fomenting litigation, the neighbours flock around; One came to get a warrant—a shilling was the cost; "Here, Matthew, bring the book." Sir, 'tis nowhere to be found." "Zounds! he'll repent-what shall we do? the shilling will be lost.

Swear, damme! and pay sixpence-I fancy that's the rule;

Those who can't get the harvest must sit down with

the gleanings;

How could you be so careless? You dolt! you stupid

fool!"

"Your worship's representative, factotum, locum

tenens."

A rich lady 'gainst a helpless girl most loudly did complain;

"Here, Matthew, make her mittimus, ne'er mind how she cajoles

"We must not, sir, commit her-the law we cannot strain,

And the superior courts would haul your worship o'er the coals.

I could not for the soul of me distress so sweet a lass ; For justice' sake, to equity the heart should have these leanings."

"You're not proper for your place, sir-you're a goose, an oaf, an ass!"

"Your worship's representative, factotum, locum tenens "

Next day this pretty damsel was walking in a field ; His worship pass'd by too, and began to toy and

play;

"You were yesterday my prisoner-to-day to you I

66

yield;"

She ran for life, while he pursued, and begg'd of her

to stay.

'Sir, is this justice? O for shame!"

lovely fair

-

"'Tis justice,

For justice on the bench and in love has diff'rent meanings;

Nay, struggle not "Is there no friend? no hope?"

"None! Zounds! who's there?"

"Your worship's representative, factotum, locum

teneus.

"You hired me, sir, to set you right whenever you were wrong;

For once, then, justice practise, sir, since justice you dispense;

Give me this pretty damsel-we've loved each other long

And ne'er oppress those honest hearts that merit your defence."

Cried Gander," Matthew, I'm the goose, the ass, and have been blind;

I now see law and equity have very diff'rent mean

ings;

Henceforth the poor shall bless me; and may each great man find

As able, as upright, and as just a locum tenens."

TWO WENCHES AT ONCE.

THOMAS HUDSON.]

[Tune-" Margery Toppig."

TILL I fell in love, I wur happy enow,

At threshing or reaping, at harrow or plough;
At sunrise each morn wi' the lark I wur springing,
And, just like the lark, I wur always a singing,

Tol de rol lol de rol lay.

Cupid, quite envious of my happy life,
Put into my head that I wanted a wife;

'Bout love and such-like things completely a dunce, I fell slap in love wi' two wenches at once.

The miller's young daughter, she gave the first twist, Her lips lok'd as if like they long'd to be kiss'd; And whiles I gazed at her, 'twixt love and surprise, I was fairly struck dumb by her sister's bright eyes!

Mary was fair as an angel could be,

Eyes like sweet Betsy's I never did see ;

I tried all in vain my hot feelings to smother,
By looking at one first, and then at the other.

If I went to see Mary, to her I was blind,
For Betsy directly came into my mind;
And when I saw Betsy, 'twas just the contrary –
I always was sure to be thinking of Mary.

When Betsy look'd at me, or when Mary smiled,
I felt of my senses completely beguiled;

"Twas all of no use, I look'd this or that way,
Like a donkey between two great bundles of hay..

Things went on thus for five or six week,
I never could muster up courage to speak;
When all of a sudden they oth went to church,
And left me, a bachelor, quite in the lurch.

Young men, be advised; if love gets in your sconce,
Never go courting two wenches at once;
With one lass you may work your way safe and sound,
But between two stools, all know what comes to the
ground.
Tol de rol de rol lol de rol lay.

THERE'S NO KNOWING WHAT YOU MAY COME TO.

J. LABERN.]

[Tune-"Charlie over the Water."

IF ever misfortune 'gainst man did combine,
That man he to-night stands before you,
Who's lost all his cash in the "Diddlesex" Line,-
I hope that his troubles wont bore you.

To double my five thousand pounds how I thought,
But they gave mine the double like fun, too;
I've been hunted by stags, and paid dear for the sport
There's no knowing what you may come to.

You may turn up your nose at hard work, and
declare

It's what you would never succumb to ;
Tho' you're rolling in riches at present, beware,
There's no knowing what you may come to.

When I think how my cash, that for years twentynine,

I'd been scraping should, presto! elope, sirs,

I rail at myself being drawn in a line,

And wish mysel drawn in a rope, sirs.

Once I'd a house and all else to accord,
And annually spent a round sum, too;
Now I m only a lodger-it shows how I'm floored
Oh, you never know what you may come to.
You may turn, &c.

The parties I used to give, week after week,
To the Popkins, the Pipkins, and Prices :
What a tale might be told, if the tables could speak,
Of wines, jellies, and custards, and ices.

The cold looks of my friends, whom I once received well, Are the ices I meet now, so glum, too-

It's hard that they pass me, because I'm no swell--But you never know what you may come to,

You may turn, &c.

With poultry my table did once groan and growl-
For the loss of it I could put crape on--
My face I long pull it whene'er I run foul
Of a policeman now with a cape on.
I'd pheasants and hares in galore I'll allow,
But that 'ere game must I say mum to;
I'm obliged to put up with a Welsh rabbit now-
Oh! there's no knowing what you may come to.
You may turn, &c.

With sirloins of beef once my larder was packed,
And fore quarters of lamb, by-the-bye, sirs-
The hooks still remain-a lamentable fact-

But the joints are, alas! all my eye, sirs.
To common-place breastes of mutton I bow,
Or stubborn beef-steaks put my gum to;
I can't even shell out for oyster-sauce now-
Ah! you never know what you may come to.
You may tnrn, &c.

So what with my crosses, and losses, and strife,
I think it's enough to perplex one :

Moore observes in his song, "They may rail at this life;"
I hope they've no rails in the next one.