The gaping world is fed by us,
Who retail knowledge here;
By feeding that, we feed ourselves
Nor deem our fare too dear.

Pull up, my boys, turn quick the rounce
And thus the chase we'll join,
We have deposits in the bank,
Our drawers are full of coin.

And who shall more gentility cut
A figure or a dash?

Yet sometimes we who press so much
Ourselves are press'd for cash.

Glasgow.

TO BOCCACIO IN HEAVEN,

A PARODY.

To Boccacio in Heaven, as he chatted one day,
With Chaucer and Caxton, and two or three more,
The news of our Meeting went up, as they say,
And it set the Celestial Bard in a roar :

Says he, Well I ween

When these fellows convene,

My laurels look fresher, more lively their green ;
So myself from this hour, I exultingly dub,
The Patron and Friend of the ROXBURghe Club.

But since they of me as their origin boast,

I shall storm, like King Herode,' as drawn by Ihan Unless, as their first Anniversary toast,

[Parfre;

They drink in a bumper, my printer Valdarfer;'

Quoth Wynken de Worde:

"Twill be vastly absurd,

Unless Caxton's their second, and I am their third; Then the whole will go smoothly, unchecked by a rub, And we all shall be pleased at the ROXBURGHE Club.

Let the poor plodding pedant our revels despise,
Who would cover his dullness with gravity's cloak;
Cui bono? What brings them together? he cries-

Why, to eat and to drink, and to laugh and to joke:
With the joys of old wine

From France or the Rhine,

Old friends, and old books, at our wassail combine;
While the butterfly fop, and the miserly grub,
Are excluded alike from the ROXBURGHE Club.

That our social enjoyment of rational mirth,

Is an evening well spent, e'en a cynic might own;
If Diogenes' self could revisit the earth,

He would soften his manners, and alter his tone :
Alexander the Great

He contemned, and his State;

But on D**** I'm sure he would civilly wait;
And beg that he'd try to make room for his Tub,
As he longed for a frisk with the ROXBURGHE Club.

But it is not alone, that good-humour'd and hearty,
Mirth's Goddess admits us to join in her crew;
That we shine, both distinguished Mercurio et Marte,
To our Chief and our Founder the honour is due :
Old SPENCER, a name

That for ever shall claim

The loftiest place in the Temple of Fame;

[drub,

And MARLBOROUGH, who France could, like Wellington,
Are emblazoned at once in the ROXBURGHe Club.

June 17, 1817.

From your humble Servant,

A MEMBER.*

Sir Alexander Boswell, bart., who was killed in a duel by Mr. Stuart, April 26, 1822. The cause of quarrel was a libel which had appeared in the Edinburgh Beacon, written by Sir Alexander.

CROSS READINGS.

(REC.)

If you ever should be

In a state of ennui,

Just listen to me,

And without any fee

I'll give you a hint how to set yourself free.
Though dearth of intelligence weaken the news
And you feel an incipient attack of the blues,
For amusement you never need be at a loss,
If you take up the paper, and read it across.

(INTER ARIA DEMI LOQUI.)

Here's the Times, apropos,
And so,

With your patience, I'll show

What I mean, by perusing a passage or two.

(ARIA.)

"Hem! Mr. George Robins is anxious to tell, In very plain prose, he's instructed to sell"— "A vote for the county"-" packed neatly in straw”— "Set by Holloway's Ointment"-" a limb of the law." "The army has had secret orders to seize""As soon as they can"-" the industrious fleas." For amusement you never need be at a loss,

If you take a newspaper, and read it across.

"The opera opens with"-" elegant coats"-
"For silver and gold we exchange foreign notes"-

Specific to soften mortality's ills”—

"And cure Yorkshire bacon"-" take Morison's pills."

"Curious coincidence"-" steam to Gravesend."

"Tale of deep interest"-" money to lend❞—
"Louisa is waiting for William to send."

For amusement you never need be at a loss,
If you take a newspaper, and read it across.

"For relief of the Poles"-" an astounding feat!"-
"A respectable man"-" for a wager will eat"—
"The Macadamised portion of Parliament-street."
Mysterious occurrence !"-" expected incog."

66

"To be viewed by cards only"—" a terrible fog." "At eight in the morning the steam-carriage starts""Takes passengers now"-" to be finished in parts." For amusement you never need be at a loss, If you take a newspaper, and read it across.

"Left in a cab, and"-" the number not known" "A famous prize ox, weighing 200 stone❞— "He speaks with a lisp"-" has a delicate shape❞— "And had on, when he quitted, a Macintosh cape." "For China direct, a fine"-" dealer in slops." "To the curious in shaving"-"new way to dress chops." "Repeal of the corn"-" was roasted for lunch""Teetotal beverage"-" Triumph of PUNCH!" For amusement you never need be at a loss, If you take a newspaper, and read it across.

Punch.

THE PRESS.

WHEN first gigantic Power awoke
And bound the world in Slavery's yoke
Fair Freedom to repress;

The orators of old withstood

His frantic rage and thirst of blood,
Tho' then there was no Press!

As meteors through the kindled heaven,
As light'ning when the oak is riv'n
Which nothing can repress;

The high-soul'd speech, with loud applause,
Spoke thunder in fair Freedom's cause,

And laid the basis of her laws

Ere yet was rais'd the Press.

But when the sacred art arose,
To tyranny the worst of foes,
To Ignorance no less;

Each Despot, whose unhallow'd hand
Had filled with blood a groaning land
Turn'd pale amid his high command,
And trembled at the Press!

And now the Holy League combine,
Blaspheming what they call divine,
To thwart our last redress!

They see whence Freedom draws her source,
And each, like Death on his pale horse
Assails with all a torrent's force

The Freedom of the Press !

Rise, Britain, rise! withstand their power,
Now is the dread, the fated hour,

To curse mankind or bless.

The wolves, to make the sheep their prey
Would lure the guardian dogs away,
Whose barking kept the thieves at bay,
O! guard the sacred Press!

Nov. 1817.

PRINTERS' DEVILS.

R. GILMOUR.

Old Lucifer, both kind and civil,
To every printer lends a devil;
But balancing accounts each winter,
For every devil takes a printer.

A PRINTER'S WIDOW.

This daily publishing the weeds of woe,
Announces to my eye, as pica plain,

A dear, romantic, duodecimo,

Unbound and going into sheets again!