..

Giles Jollop the Grave, and Brown Sally Green.

......

"Lord, how can you think so?" Brown Sally Green said,

"You must know mighty little of me.

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

"I swear, 'pon my honor, that none in your stend

66

Shall husband of Sally Green be.

"And if e'er for another my heart should decide,

"False to you and the faith which I gave, "God grant that at dinner too amply supply'd,

"Over-eating may give me a pain in the side;

May your ghost there bring rhubarb to physic the bride,

"And send her well dos'd to the grave.'

Away went poor Giles, to what place is not told;
Sally wept till she blew her nose sore!

But scarce had a twelve-month elaps'd, when, behold,
A Brewer quite slyish, his gig that way roll'd,
And stopped at Sally Green's door.

His wealth, his pot-belly, and whisky of cane,
Soon made her untrue to her vows;

The steam of strong beer now bewilder'd her brain,
He caught her while tipsy! denials were vain,
So he carried her home as his spouse.
And now the roast beef had been blest by the priest,
To cram now the guests had begun;
Tooth and nail, like a wolf, fell the bride on the feast,
Nor yet had the clash of her knife and fork ceas'd,
When a bell ('twas a dustman's) toll'd " One!"
Then first, with amazement! Brown Sally Green found
That a stranger was stuck by her side;
His cravat and ruffles with snuff were embrown'd;
He ate not, he drank not, but turning him round,
Sent some pudding away to be fry'd!!!

His wig was turn'd forward, and short was his height,
His apron was dirty to view;

The women (oh! wondrous) were hush'd at his sight;
The cats, as they ey'd him drew back, (wel they might)
For his body was pea-green and blue!

}

Giles Jollop the Grave, and Brown Sally Green.

Now all wish'd to speak, but none knew what to say,
They look'd mighty foolish and queer;
At length spoke the bride, while she trembled, " I pray,
"Dear sir, that your peruke aside you wou'd lay,
"And partake of some strong or small beer!"
The sempstress is silent; the stranger complies,
And his wig from his phiz deigns to pull;
Adzooks! what a squall Sally gave thro' surprize!
Like a pig that is stuck, how she open'd her eyes,
When she recogniz'd Jollop's bare skull !
Each miss then exclaim'd, while she turn'd up her snout,
"Sir, your head isn't fit to be seen!"
The pot-boys ran in, and the pot-boys ran out,
And could not conceive what the noise was about,
While the doctor address'd Sally Green.

"Behold me! thou jilt-flirt! behold me!" he cried,
"You have broken the faith which you gave!
"God grants, that to punish your falsehood and pride,
"Over-eating should give you a pain in your side;
"Come, swallow this rhubarb! I'll physic the bride,
" And send her well dosed to the grave!"
Thus saying, the physic her throat he forc'd down,
In spite of whate'er she could say,
Then bore to his chariot the damsel so brown;
Nor ever again was she seen in the town,
Or the doctor who whisk'd her away.

Not long liv'd the Brewer; and none since that tine,

To make use of the brewhouse presumes;
For 'tis firmly believ'd that, by order sublime,
There Sally Green suffers the pain of her crime,
And bawls to get out of the room,

At midnight, four times in each year, does her sprite
With shrieks make her chamber resound,
" I won't take the rhubarb!" she squalls in affright,
While a cup in his left hand, a draught in his right,
Giles Jollop pursues her around!

.......... ..........

The Idiot.

........

................

With wigs so well powder'd, their fees while they crave,

Dancing round them, twelve doctors are seen; They drink chicken broth, while this horrible stave

Is twang'd thro' each nose, - " To Giles Jollop the Grave, "And his patient, the sick Sally Green !"

THE IDIOT.

WRITTEN BY W. SOUTHEY.

The circumstance related in the following Lines, happened in

Herefordshire.

It had pleased God to form poor Ned,

A thing of Idiot mind,

Yet to the poor unreasoning man
God had not been unkind.

Old Sarah lov'd her helpless child,
Whom helplessness made dear,
And life was happiness to him,
Who had no hope nor fear.
She knew his wants, she understood
Each half-artic'late call,
And he was every thing to her,
And she to him was all.

And so for many a year they dwelt,
Nor knew a wish beside,
But age at length on Sarah came,
And she fell sick and died.
He tried, in vain, to'waken her.
And call'd her o'er and o'er;
They told him she was dead: -the sound
To him no import bore.

They clos'd her eyes and shrouded her,
And he stood wondering by,
And when they bore her to the grave,
He follow'd silentiy.

The Idiot.

.......................

They laid her in the narrow house,
They sung the fun'ral stave;
But when the fun'ral train dispers'd,
He loiter'd by the grave.

The rabble boys, who used to jeer
Whene'er they saw poor Ned,
Now stood and watched him at the grave,
And not a word they said.

They came and went, and came again,
Till night at last came on;
And still he loiter'd by the grave,
Till all the rest were gone.

And when he found himself alone,
He swift removed the clay,
And rais'd the coffin up in haste,
And bore it swift away.

1

And when he reached his hut, he laid

The coffin on the floor,

And with the eagerness of joy,

He barr'd the cottage door,

And out he took his mother's corpse,
And placed it in a chair,

And then he heap'd the hearth, and blew
The kindling fire with care.

He plac'd his mother in her chair,
And in her wonted place,

And blew the kindling fire, that shone
Reflected on her face.

And pausing, now her hand would feel,
And now her face behold;
"Why, mother, do you look so pale,
"And why are you so cold?"

It had pleas'd God from the poor wretch

His only friend to call,

But God was kind to him, and soon

In

In death, restored him all.

...............

THE MAID OF THE MOOR;

OR, LORD HOPPERGOLLOP'S COOK MAID

AND THE GARDENER'S GHOST.

A Comic, Burlesque-poetic, Mock-terrific Tale,

SELECTED AND ABRIDGED FROM COLMAN'S BROAD GRINS.

On a wild moor all brown and bleak,

Where broods the heath-frequenting grouse,
There stood a tenement antique,
Lord Hoppergollop's country house:

Neglected mansion; for 'its said,
Whene'er the snow came feathering down,
Four barbed steeds from the King's Head
Carried the master up to town.

Swift whirl'd the wheels, he's gone. - A rose
Remains behind, whose virgin look,
Unseen, must blush in wint'ry snows;
Sweet beauteous blossom, 'twas the cock.
A bolder far than my weak note,

Maid of the moor, thy charms demand,
Eels might be proud to lose their coat,
If skinn'd by Molly Dumpling's hand.
Long had the fair one sat alone,
Had none remain'd save only she,
She by herself had been, if one
Had not been left for company.
'Twas a tall youth, whose cheek's clear hue
Was ting'd with health and manly toil,
Cabbage he sow'd, and when it grew,
He always cut it up to boil.

A small mute favorite by day
Follow'd his step, where'er he wheels
His barrow round the garden gay,
A bobtail cur is at his heels.