* * * * *

To griefs congenial prone,
More wounds than nature gave he knew,
While misery's form his fancy drew
In dark ideal hues, and horrors not its own.

_Goethe--Foreign Review_.

* * * * *



THE GATHERER.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.

SHAKSPEARE

* * * * *


ON LORD GROSVENOR'S ANNUAL INCOME.


Our journals, which tell us of ev'ry one's matters,
From the king on the throne, to the pauper in tatters;
Say his lordship possesses, if rightly I scan 'em,
Two hundred and seventy-two thousands per annum.
On this statement I've latterly ventur'd to ponder,