. Gallery of comicalities : . Measures, not men, have always been my mark. G(JLDSMITH. —77/^ Good-Natiired Man. Die ! dastard Snip—that mortal thrust Shall perforate thy lungs,And lay thee prostrate in the dust, Thou proudest of the Dungs ! No more, among my cross-leggd band. Thy schemes shall gender strife;And neer again thy rebel hand Attempt thy masters life ! Where, now, are all thy idle boasts .? This blow shall introduceThy Spirit where the Tailor ghosts Eat visionary goose ! Down, Traitor ! to thy native Hell ! Fresli treasons there to plan—With recreant spectre Snips to dwell— Tliou fr


. Gallery of comicalities : . Measures, not men, have always been my mark. G(JLDSMITH. —77/^ Good-Natiired Man. Die ! dastard Snip—that mortal thrust Shall perforate thy lungs,And lay thee prostrate in the dust, Thou proudest of the Dungs ! No more, among my cross-leggd band. Thy schemes shall gender strife;And neer again thy rebel hand Attempt thy masters life ! Where, now, are all thy idle boasts .? This blow shall introduceThy Spirit where the Tailor ghosts Eat visionary goose ! Down, Traitor ! to thy native Hell ! Fresli treasons there to plan—With recreant spectre Snips to dwell— Tliou fraction of a man ! Ye restless Dungs of spirit rough, From this example know—One active measure is enough To lay a traitor low ! GALLERY OF COMICALITIES-No. X. ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DRAMA THE BOTTLE Imp of the Bottle ! appear, appear, Armd with fresh fluid our souls to cheer; Thy features with mirth and good humour beaming, Thy nectar luscious, and bright and creaming— AVhat is the name of the Bottle Sprite ? The Star of the Colonnade—Charley Wright. Long be the precious beverage quaffd ! Open your lips to receive the draught. The magic power of the bright Champagne Shall sooth the spirit and fire the brain ; And trouble and grief will vanish quite From the happy realms of the Bottle Sprite. To those who have long been estrangd from mirth, And weary moments have passd on earth; On whom the storm of adversity lowers, While, in secret, they sigh for happier hours, O let not the Bottle Imp whisper in vain ; Theres a cure for all care in this bright Champagne ; As the mist on the mountain melts away At the radiant beams of the God of Day, * So, when the nectar hath brightened the heart, The shadows of pain and sorrow depart, And all the Blue Devils must wing their flight, When a


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectenglish, bookyear1880