It should be mix'd with many an ardent prayer,
To reach the heart, and fix and fasten there;
When God and man are mutually address'd
God grants a blessing, man is truly bless'd.

It should be closely, well applied at last,
To make the moral nail securely fast :
Thou art the man, and thou alone will make
A Felix tremble and a David quake!

THE ANNUITY.

GEORGE OUTRAM.

'The little work from which "The Annuity" has been selected was printed, for private distribution only, by the late Mr. George Outram. It bears the unpromising title of Legal Lyrics, and Metrical Illustrations of the Scottish Forms of Process; but abounds in keen wit and rich humour, which force themselves on the appreciation even of readers whose misfortune it is to be born south of the Tweed, and to be unacquainted with the exquisitely simple forms and phrases of Scottish law.'—Wills.

I GAED to spend a week in Fife

An unco week it proved to be--
For there I met a waesome wife

Lamentin' her viduity.

Her grief brak out sae fierce and fell,

I thought her heart wad burst the shell;
And I was sae left to mysel'-

I sell't her an annuity.

F

The bargain lookit fair eneugh—

She just was turn'd o' saxty-three-
I couldna guess'd she'd prove sae teugh,1
By human ingenuity.

But years have come, and years have gane,
And there she's yet as stieve's2 a stane-
The limmer's growin' young again,
Since she got her annuity.

She's crined3 awa' to bane an' skin.
But that it seems is nought to me.
She's like to live-although she's in
The last stage o' tenuity.

She munches wi' her wizen'd gums,
An' stumps about on legs o' thrums,1
But comes as sure as Christmas comes-
To ca' for her annuity.

I read the tables drawn wi' care

For an Insurance Company; Her chance o' life was stated there

Wi' perfect perspicuity.

But tables here or tables there,

She's lived ten years beyond her share,

An's like to live a dozen mair,

To ca' for her annuity.

I led her out, 'mang snaw and frost,
Wi' constant assiduity.

But Deil ma' care-the blast gaed by,
And miss'd the auld anatomy;

It just cost me a tooth, forbye1
Discharging her annuity.

If there's a sough" o' cholera

Or typhus-wha sae gleg3 as she!
She buys up baths, an' drugs, an' a',
In siccan superfluity!

She doesna need-she's fever proof-
The pest walk'd o'er her very roof—
She tauld me sae--an' then her loof
Held out for her annuity.

Ae day she fell-her arm she brak-
A compound fracture as could be—
Nae Leech the cure wad undertak,
Whate'er was the gratuity.

It's cured!-She handles 't like a flail-
It does as weel in bits as hale-

But I'm a broken man mysel',

Wi' her and her annuity.

Her broozled flesh and broken banes,
Are weel as flesh an' banes can be.

She beats the taeds that live in stanes,
An' fatten in vacuity!

They die when they're exposed to airThey canna thole1 the atmosphere

If mortal means could nick her thread,

Sma' crime it wad appear to meCa't murder-or ca't homicide-

I'd justify't-an' do it tae. But how to fell a wither'd wife

That's carved out o' the tree o' life

The timmer limmer daurs2 the knife
To settle her annuity.

I'd try a shot. But whar's the mark?-
Her vital parts are hid frae me.
Her back-bane wanders through her sark
In an unkenn'd corkscrewity.

She's palsified-an' shakes her head

Sae fast about, ye scarce can see't—
It's past the power o' steel or lead
To settle her annuity.

She might be drown'd ;-bit go she'll not
Within a mile o' loch or sea ;-

Or hang'd-if cord could grip a throat
O' siccan exiguity.

1 Endure.

2 The wooden hussy dares.

It's fitter far to hang the rope-
It draws out like a telescope-
"Twad tak a dreadfu' length o' drop
To settle her annuity.

Will puzion' do't It has been tried.
But, be't in hash or fricassee,
That's just the dish she can't abide,
Whatever kind o' gout it hae.

It's needless to assail her doubts-`
She gangs by instinct,-like the brutes,-
An' only eats an' drinks what suits
Hersel' and her annuity.

The Bible says the age o' man

Threescore and ten perchance may be. She's ninety-four.-Let them wha can Explain the incongruity.

She should hae lived afore the flood-
She's come o' Patriarchal blood-

She's some auld Pagan mummified
Alive for her annuity.

She's been embalm'd inside and out-
She's sauted to the last degree-
There's pickle in her very snout
Sae caper-like an' cruety,

1 Poison.