And, in truth, 'tis a rather unpleasantish job, Though as sure of an instant forgetting When as after the dark clearing off of a storm- Thus your Etching complete, it remains but to hint, You may charm all your Friends-without any sad tale With a fine India Proof of your Metal. DEATH'S RAMBLE. ONE day the dreary old King of Death 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 spill'd man's blood, and he kill'd Like a butcher that kills his own. N The first he slaughter'd 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, 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 his coach Death saw a toll-man taking a toll, But he knew that sort of man would extort, He found an author writing his life, For Death, who strikes whenever he likes, Death saw a patient that pull'd 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, |