"I wish I ne'er had seen your face; But now a long farewell!

For you will be my death--alas!

You will not be my Nell!"

Now, when he went from Nelly Gray, His heart so heavy got-- And life was such a burden grown, It made him take a knot!

So round his melancholy neck A rope he did entwine, And, for his second time in life Enlisted in the Line!

One end he tied around a beam, And then removed his pegs, And as his legs were off,--of course, He soon was off his legs!

And there he hung till he was dead As any nail in town,-- For though distress had cut him up, It could not cut him down!

A dozen men sat on his corpse, To find out why he died-- And they buried Ben in four cross-roads, With a stake in his inside!

_Thomas Hood._

SALLY SIMPKIN'S LAMENT

"Oh! what is that comes gliding in, And quite in middling haste?

It is the picture of my Jones, And painted to the waist.

"It is not painted to the life, For where's the trousers blue?

O Jones, my dear!--Oh, dear! my Jones, What is become of you?"

"O Sally, dear, it is too true,-- The half that you remark Is come to say my other half Is bit off by a shark!

"O Sally, sharks do things by halves, Yet most completely do!

A bite in one place seems enough, But I've been bit in two.

"You know I once was all your own, But now a shark must share!

But let that pa.s.s--for now to you I'm neither here nor there.

"Alas! death has a strange divorce Effected in the sea, It has divided me from you, And even me from me!

"Don't fear my ghost will walk o' nights To haunt, as people say; My ghost _can't_ walk, for, oh! my legs Are many leagues away!

"Lord! think when I am swimming round, And looking where the boat is, A shark just snaps away a _half,_ Without 'a _quarter's notice_.'

"One half is here, the other half Is near Columbia placed; O Sally, I have got the whole Atlantic for my waist.

"But now, adieu--a long adieu!

I've solved death's awful riddle, And would say more, but I am doomed To break off in the middle!"

_Thomas Hood._

DEATH'S RAMBLE

One day the dreary old King of Death Inclined for some sport with the carnal, So he tied a pack of darts on his back, And quietly stole from his charnel.

His head was bald of flesh and of hair, His body was lean and lank; His joints at each stir made a crack, and the cur Took a gnaw, by the way, at his shank.

And what did he do with his deadly darts, This goblin of grisly bone?

He dabbled and spilled man's blood, and he killed Like a butcher that kills his own.

The first he slaughtered it made him laugh (For the man was a coffin-maker), To think how the mutes, and men in black suits, Would mourn for an undertaker.

Death saw two Quakers sitting at church; Quoth he, "We shall not differ."

And he let them alone, like figures of stone, For he could not make them stiffer.

He saw two duellists going to fight, In fear they could not smother; And he shot one through at once--for he knew They never would shoot each other.

He saw a watchman fast in his box, And he gave a snore infernal; Said Death, "He may keep his breath, for his sleep Can never be more eternal."

He met a coachman driving a coach So slow that his fare grew sick; But he let him stray on his tedious way, For Death only wars on the _quick_.

Death saw a tollman taking a toll, In the spirit of his fraternity; But he knew that sort of man would extort, Though summoned to all eternity.

He found an author writing his life, But he let him write no further; For Death, who strikes whenever he likes, Is jealous of all self-murther!

Death saw a patient that pulled out his purse, And a doctor that took the sum; But he let them be--for he knew that the "fee"

Was a prelude to "faw" and "fum."

He met a dustman ringing a bell, And he gave him a mortal thrust; For himself, by law, since Adam's flaw, Is contractor for all our dust.

He saw a sailor mixing his grog, And he marked him out for slaughter; For on water he scarcely had cared for death, And never on rum-and-water.

Death saw two players playing at cards, But the game wasn't worth a dump, For he quickly laid them flat with a spade, To wait for the final trump!

_Thomas Hood._

PANEGYRIC ON THE LADIES

READ ALTERNATE LINES

That man must lead a happy life Who's free from matrimonial chains, Who is directed by a wife Is sure to suffer for his pains.

Adam could find no solid peace When Eve was given for a mate; Until he saw a woman's face Adam was in a happy state.