Secure of any swain she chose,
She smiled on half a dozen beaux,
And reckless of a lover's woes,
She cheated these and taunted those
"For how could any one suppose

A clown could take her eye?"

2. But whispers through the village ran,
That Edgar was the happy man,
The maid designed to bless;
For, wheresoever moved the fair,
The youth was, like her shadow, there,
And rumor boldly matched the pair—
For village folks will guess,

3. Edgar did love, but still delayed
To make confession to the maid,
So bashful was the youth;
But let the flame in secret burn,
Certain of meeting a return,

When from his lips the fair should learn,
Officially, the truth.

4. At length, one morn, to taste the air, The youth and maid, in one horse chair, A long excursion took.

Edgar had nerved his bashful heart,
The sweet confession to impart,

For ah! suspense had caused a smart,
He could no longer brook.

5. He drove, nor slackened once his reins,
Till Hempstead's wide extended plains
Seemed joined to skies above;
Nor house, nor tree, nor shrub was near,
The rude and dreary scene to cheer,

Nor soul within ten miles to hear,
And still poor Edgar's silly fear,
Forbade to speak of love.

6. At last, one desperate effort broke
The bashful spell, and Edgar spoke,
With most persuasive tone;

Recounted past attendance o'er,
And then, by all that's lovely, swore
That he would love for evermore,
If she'd become his own.

7. The maid, in silence, heard his prayer,
Then, with a most provoking air,
She tittered in his face;

And said, ""Tis time for you to know,
A lively girl must have a beau,
Just like a reticule, for show;
And at her nod to come and go,
But he should know his place.

8. "Your penetration must be dull,
To let a hope within your skull
Of matrimony spring.

Your wife! ha, ha! upon my wood,
The thought is laughably absurd,
As anything I ever heard—

I never dream'd of such a thing

9. The lover sudden dropp'd his rein, Now on the center of the plain

"The linch-pin's out!" he cried; "Be pleased, one moment, to alight, Till I can set the matter right,

That we may safely ride."

10. He said, and handed out the fair,

Then laughing, crack'd his whip in air,
And wheeling round his horse and chair,
Exclaimed, "Adieu, I leave you there
In solitude to roam."

"What mean you, sir," the maiden cried,
"Did you invite me out to ride,

To leave me here, without a guide?
Nay, stop, and take me home."

11. "What! take you home!" exclaim'd the beau, "Indeed, my dear, I'd like to know How such a hopeless wish could grow,

Or in your bosom spring!

What! take Ellen home? ha, ha! upon my word,
The thought is laughably absurd,

As anything I ever heard;

I never dream'd of such a thing."

LESSON XXXVI.

MARRIAGE PRO AND CON-ACCOUNT CURRENT.

ANONYMOUS.

1. Oн, the woe that woman brings! Source of sorrow, grief, and pain! All our evils have their springs,

In the first of female train.

2. Eve, by eating, led poor Adam
Out of Eden and estray;

Look for sorrow still, where madam,
Pert and proud, directs the way.

P

WOMAN, DE

3. Courtship is a slavish pleasure,
Soothing a coquettish train;
Wedded, what the mighty treasure?
Doomed to drag a golden chain.

4. Noisy clack and constant brawling,
Discord and domestic strife;
Empty cupboard, children bawling,
Scolding woman made a wife.

5. Gaudy dress and haughty carriage,
Love's fond balance fled and gone;
These, the bitter fruits of marriage!
He that's wise will live alone!

6. Oh, what joys from woman spring,
Source of bliss and purest peace;
Eden could not comfort bring,

Till fair woman show'd her face.

7. When she came, good, honest Adam Clasp'd the gift with open arms, He left Eden for his madam,

So our parent prized her charms.

CONTRA, OR

8. Courtship thrills the soul with pleasure, Virtue's blush on beauty's cheek: Happy prelude to a treasure

Kings have left their crowns to seek.
9. Lovely looks and constant courting,
Sweet'ning all the toils of life;
Cheerful children, harmless sporting,
Lovely woman made a wife!

10. Modest dress and gentle carriage,
Love triumphant on his throne;
These the blissful fruits of marriage—
None but fools would live alone!

LESSON XXXVII.

ACCOUNT OF A BACHELOR.

(A PARODY ON Romeo's apothecary.)

ANONYMOUS.

1. I Do remember an old bachelor,

And hereabouts he dwells; whom late I noted In suit of sables, with a care-worn brow, Conning his books, and meager were his looks: Celibacy had worn him to the bone;

And in his silent parlor hung a coat,

The which the moths had used not less than he.

2. Four chairs, one table, and an old hair trunk,
Made up the furniture; and on his shelves
A grease-clad candle-stick, a broken mug,
Two tumblers, and a box of old segars;
Remnants of volumes, once in some repute,
Were thinly scattered round, to tell the eye
Of prying stranger, this man had no wife.

3. His tatter'd elbow gaped most piteously;

And ever, as he turned him round, his skin
Did through his stockings peep upon the day.
Noting his gloom, unto myself I said,
And if a man did covet single life,
Reckless of joys that matrimony give,
The sight of this most pitiable wight
Would make him quick his aim give o'er,
And seek forthwith a loving wife.