ALONZO THE BRAVE.

A warrior so bold, and a virgin so bright,
Conversed as they sat on a green;

They gazed on each other with tender delight:
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight,
The maid was the Fair Imogene.

"And ah!" said the youth, "since to-morrow I go "To fight in a far distant land,

"Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow, "Some other will court you, and you will bestow "On a wealthier suitor your hand."

"Oh, hush these suspicions!" fair Imogene said, "So hurtful to love and to me;

"For if you be living, or if you be dead,

"I swear by the Virgin that none in your stead "Shall husband of Imogene be.

"And if e'er for another my heart should decide, "Forgetting Alonzo the Brave,

"God grant that, to punish my falsehood and pride,
"Thy Ghost at my marriage may sit by my side,
"May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,
"And bear me away to the grave."

To Palestine hasten'd the warrior so bold,
His love she lamented him sore;

But scarce had a twelvemonth elapsed, when, behold!
A baron all covered with jewels and gold
Arrived at fair Imogene's door.

His treasure, his presents, his spacious domain,
Soon made her untrue to her vows;

He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain,
He caught her affections, so light and so vain,
And carried her home as his spouse.

And now had the marriage been bless'd by the priest,
The revelry now was begun,

The tables they groan'd with the weight of the feast, Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceased, When the bell of the castle toll'd-ONE !

"Twas then, with amazement, fair Imogene found
A stranger was placed by her side;
His air was terrific, he utter'd no sound,

He spoke not, he moved not, he look'd not around,
But earnestly gazed on the bride.

His visor was closed, and gigantic his height,
His armour was sable to view;

All laughter and pleasure were hush'd at his sight,
The dogs, as they eyed him, drew back with affright,
And the lights in the chamber burnt blue.

His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay,
The guests sat in silence and fear;

At length spoke the bride, while she trembled-" I pray,

"Sir Knight, that your helmet aside you would lay, "And deign to partake of our cheer."

The lady is silent-the stranger complies,
And his visor he slowly unclosed-

O, gods! what a sight met Imogene's eyes!
What words can express her dismay and surprise,
When a skeleton's head was exposed!

All present then utter'd a terrified shout,

And turn'd with disgust from the scene;

The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept And sported his eyes and temples about,

While the Spectre address'd Imogene :

[out,

"Behold me, thou false one! behold me !" he cried, "Behold thy Alonzo the Brave!

"God grants that, to punish thy falsehood and pride,
"My ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side,
"Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride,
"And bear thee away to the grave!"

Thus saying, his arms round the lady he wound,
While Imogene shriek'd with dismay;

Then sank with his prey thro' the wide yawning ground,
Nor ever again was fair Imogene found,
Or the Spectre that bore her away.

Not long lived the Baron; and none since that time
To inhabit the castle presume;

For chronicles tell, that by order sublime,
There Imogene suffers the pain of her crime,
And mourns her deplorable doom.

At midnight, four times in each year, does her sprite,
When mortals in slumber are bound,
Array'd in her bridal apparel of white,
Appear in the hall with her skeleton knight,
And shrieks as he whirls her around.

While they drink out of sculls newly torn from the grave,

Dancing round them, pale spectres are seen :
Their liquor is blood, and this horrible stave
They howl, "To the health of Alonzo the Brave,
And his consort, the false Imogene."

AMUSEMENTS IN HIGH LIFE.

Two bucks had dined, and deep in council sat; Their wine was brilliant, but their wit grew flat : Up starts his lordship, to the window flies, And "Lo, a race! a race!" in rapture cries. "Where?" quoth Sir John. "Why, see, two drops of "Start from the summit of the crystal pane; [rain "A thousand pounds, which first with nimble force "Performs its current down the slippery course." The bets were fix'd; in dire suspense they wait For victory, pendant on the nod of Fate. Now down the sash, unconscious of the prize, The bubbles roll, like pearls from Chloe's eyes; But, ah! the glittering joys of life how short! As oft two jostling steeds do spoil the sport; So thus attraction, by coercive laws,

The approaching drops into one puddle draws: Fach cursed his fate, that thus their project cross'd, How hard their fate, who neither won nor lost!

THE OLD SCHOOL-BOY.

How strange it seems, that folks of sense
With patient judgment will dispense !
As if reflection, thought, and reason,
At twenty-one are out of season.

At some chance word they hear you say,
They bounce, and fly, and start away,
Without the common sense of waiting
The end of what you are relating.
With justice may we not exclaim,
Of those who are so much to blame
(Whate'er their rank or their profession),
They may have "years," but not "discretion."
A gentleman who lived in Surrey,
Victim to anger and to hurry,
Hasting from town to his abode,
Left his portmanteau on the road.
An honest labourer on the ground
The large unsightly treasure found,
And ignorant what it might be,
He took it for his wife to see.
"A roll of leather, Kate, I bring,
"See-fastened by an iron string:
(Portmanteaus, at that time of day,
You know, were fastened in that way;
Though, by the "march of knowledge" moved,
Trunkmakers now are much improved.)
The wife, commander of the house,
Was rather wiser than her spouse-

A circumstance we must deplore,
For if of wisdom she had more,
I'm very sorry to confess,
Of honesty she'd rather less;
And, as she ruled him like a Turk,
She sent him out again to work,

That she might have the private pleasure
Of rummaging the prize at leisure.
She found good store of cash within,
And thought to qualify the sin

Of keeping other people's pence, By adding to her husband's sense. So, when the good man came at night, "Husband," said she, " 'twould be but rignt "To raise your prospects of succeeding, "By learning writing-hand and reading; "And if you make a steady rule "Of going to the evening school, "You'll learn them in a month or so : "So, man-d'ye hear me ?-mind and go. The quiet, mild, obedient man Seem'd quite delighted with the plan; But being nearly sixty-eight,

(And threescore years, at least, too late,)
His faculties were so obtuse,

His efforts were of little use:
He made no progress in his sums,

But sat thus-twiddling both his thumbs;
And looking like as great a fool
As you will find in any school.
He WOULD Spell physic with an F;
And being not a little deaf,

His master lost all patience soon,
And told him plump, one afternoon,-
"Too dull to learn-too old to lick-
"Your head, old fellow, is so thick,
"That if I were to box your ear,
"I should but lame my hand, I fear;
"And as for giving you a thwack
"Upon your hand or brawny back,
"I doubt my labour would be vain,
"As I should only break my cane."
So in disgust away he threw

His slate-his pen--and primer too.

*

*

*

Four years had pass'd--the honest blade
One day was leaning on his spade,
By heat and exercise oppress'd,

When thus he heard himself address'd :-
"My good old fellow,-do you know,
"If there was found-some years ago-