* * * * *

SONGS OF THE SEEDY.—­No. 4.

  And must we part?—­well, let it be;
    ’Tis better thus, oh, yes, believe me;
  For though I still was true to thee,
    Thou, faithless maiden, wouldst deceive me. 
  Take back this written pledge of love,
    No more I’ll to my bosom fold it;
  The ring you gave, your faith to prove,
    I can’t return—­because I’ve sold it!

  I will not ask thee to restore
    Each gage d’armour, or lover’s token,
  Which I had given thee before
    The links between us had been broken. 
  They were not much, but oh! that brooch,
    If for my sake thou’st deign’d to save it,
  For that, at least, I must encroach,—­
    It wasn’t mine, although I gave it.

  The gem that in my breast I wore,
    That once belonged unto your mother
  Which, when you gave to me, I swore
    For life I’d love you, and no other. 
  Can you forget that cheerful morn,
    When in my breast thou first didst stick it?—­
  I can’t restore it—­it’s in pawn;
    But, base deceiver—­that’s the ticket.

  Oh, take back all, I cannot bear
    These proofs of love—­they seem to mock it;
  There, false one, take your lock of hair—­
    Nay, do not ask me for the locket. 
  Insidious girl! that wily tear
    Is useless now, that all is ended: 
  There is thy curl—­nay, do not sneer,
    The locket’s—­somewhere—­being mended.

  The dressing-case you lately gave
    Was fit, I know, for Bagdad’s caliph;
  I used it only once to shave,
    When it was taken by the bailiff. 
  Than thou didst give I bring back less;
    But hear the truth, without more dodging—­
  The landlord’s been with a distress,
    And positively cleared my lodging.

* * * * *

CONS.  BY O CONNELL.

What English word expresses the Latin for cold?—­“Jelly"-does (Gelidus).

Why is a blackleg called a sharper?—­Because he’s less blunt than other men.

Why is a red-herring like a Mackintosh?—­Because it keeps one dry all day.

* * * * *

PUNCH’S THEATRE.

OLD MAIDS.

Sir Philip Brilliant is a gentleman of exquisite breeding—­a man of fashion, with a taste for finery, and somewhat of a fop.  He reveals his pretty figure to us, arrayed in all the glories of white and pink satins, embellished with flaunting ribbons, and adorned with costly jewels.  His servant is performing the part of mirror, by explaining the beauties of the dress, and trying to discover its faults:  his researches for flaws are unavailing, till his master promises him a crown if he can find one—­nine valets out of ten would make a