Classic Poem

A VERY SERIOUS BALLAD .

I N Middle Row, some years ago,
There lived one Mr. Brown;
And many folks considered him
The stoutest man in town.

But Brown and stout will both wear out,
One Friday he died hard,
And left a widowed wife to mourn
At twenty pence a yard.

Now widow B. in two short months
Thought mourning quite a tax;
And wished, like Mr. Wilberforce,
To manumit her blacks.

With Mr. Street she soon was sweet;
The thing thus came about:
She asked him in at home, and then
At church he asked her out!

Assurance such as this the man
In ashes could not stand;
So like a Phaenix he rose up
Against the Hand in Hand.

One dreary night the angry sprite
Appeared before her view;
It came a little after one,
But she was after two!

" Oh Mrs. B., oh Mrs. B.!
Are these your sorrow's deeds,
Already getting up a flame,
To burn your widow's weeds?

" It's not so long since I have left
For aye the mortal scene;
My Memory — like Rogers's,
Should still be bound in green!

" Yet if my face you still retrace
I almost have a doubt —
I'm like an old Forget-Me-Not,
With all the leaves torn out!

" To think that on that finger joint,
Another pledge should cling;
Oh Bess! upon my very soul,
It struck like " Knock and Ring."

" A ton of marble on my breast
Can't hinder my return;
Your conduct, Ma'am, has set my blood
A-boiling in my urn!

" Remember, oh! remember, how
The marriage 'rite did run, —
If ever we one flesh should be,
'Tis now — when I have none!

" And you, Sir — once a bosom friend —
Of perjured faith convict,
As ghostly toe can give no blow,
Consider you are kicked.

" A hollow voice is all I have,
But this I tell you plain,
Marry come up! — you marry Ma'am,
And I'll come up again. "

More he had said, but chanticleer
The spritely shade did shock
With sudden crow, and off he went,
Like fowling-piece at cock!