Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;
And when I coughed all thought the end was near!
I, had no care--no jealous doubts hung o'er me--
For I was loved beyond all other men.
Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me!
Ah, me! I was a pale young curate then!





A RECIPE.


Take a pair of sparkling eyes,
Hidden, ever and anon,
In a merciful eclipse--
Do not heed their mild surprise--
Having passed the Rubicon.
Take a pair of rosy lips;
Take a figure trimly planned--
Such as admiration whets
(Be particular in this);
Take a tender little hand,
Fringed with dainty fingerettes,
Press it--in parenthesis;--
Take all these, you lucky man--
Take and keep them, if you can.

Take a pretty little cot--