The king advanced—­then cursing fled amain
  Dashing the phial to the stony plain
  (Where’t straight became a fountain brimming o’er,
  Whence Father Tweed derives his liquid store)
  For lo! already on each back sans stitch
  The red sign manual of the Rosy Witch!

  [Footnote 1:  A famous height overlooking Edinburgh.]

ONEIROMANCY.

  I fell asleep and dreamed that I
  Was flung, like Vulcan, from the sky;
  Like him was lamed—­another part: 
  His leg was crippled and my heart. 
  I woke in time to see my love
  Conceal a letter in her glove.

  PEACE.

  When lion and lamb have together lain down
    Spectators cry out, all in chorus;
  “The lamb doesn’t shrink nor the lion frown—­
    A miracle’s working before us!”

  But ’t is patent why Hot-head his wrath holds in,
    And Faint-heart her terror and loathing;
  For the one’s but an ass in a lion’s skin,
    The other a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

THANKSGIVING.

  The Superintendent of an Almshouse.  A Pauper.

  SUPERINTENDENT: 

  So you’re unthankful—­you’ll not eat the bird? 
  You sit about the place all day and gird. 
  I understand you’ll not attend the ball
  That’s to be given to-night in Pauper Hall.

  PAUPER: 

  Why, that is true, precisely as you’ve heard: 
  I have no teeth and I will eat no bird.

  SUPERINTENDENT: 

  Ah! see how good is Providence.  Because
  Of teeth He has denuded both your jaws
  The fowl’s made tender; you can overcome it
  By suction; or at least—­well, you can gum it,
  Attesting thus the dictum of the preachers
  That Providence is good to all His creatures—­
  Turkeys excepted.  Come, ungrateful friend,
  If our Thanksgiving dinner you’ll attend
  You shall say grace—­ask God to bless at least
  The soft and liquid portions of the feast.

  PAUPER.

  Without those teeth my speech is rather thick—­
  He’ll hardly understand Gum Arabic. 
  No, I’ll not dine to-day.  As to the ball,
  ’Tis known to you that I’ve no legs at all. 
  I had the gout—­hereditary; so,
  As it could not be cornered in my toe
  They cut my legs off in the fond belief
  That shortening me would make my anguish brief. 
  Lacking my legs I could not prosecute
  With any good advantage a pursuit;
  And so, because my father chose to court
  Heaven’s favor with his ortolans and Port
  (Thanksgiving every day!) the Lord supplied
  Saws for my legs, an almshouse for my pride
  And, once a year, a bird for my inside. 
  No, I’ll not dance—­my light fantastic toe
  Took to its heels some twenty years ago. 
  Some small repairs would be required for putting
  My feelings on a saltatory footing.