_New Monthly Magazine_

* * * * *


THE "STAY-AT-HOME."


I'll never dwell among the Caffres;
I'll never willing cross the Line,
Where Neptune, 'mid the tarry laughers,
Dips broiling landsmen in the brine.

I'll never go to New South Wales,
Nor hunt for glory at the Pole--
To feed the sharks, or catch the whales,
Or tempt a Lapland lady's soul.
I'll never willing stir an ell
Beyond old England's chalky border,
To steal or smuggle, buy or sell,
To drink cheap wine, or beg an Order.

Let those do so who long for claret,
Let those, who'd kiss a Frenchman's--toes;
I'll not drink vinegar, nor Star it,
For any he that wears a nose.
I'll not go lounge out life in Calais,
To dine at half a franc a head;
To hut like rats in lanes and alleys--