Now with his harp old Llewellyn is seen,

And joins the gay party that sits on the green,
He leans in the door-way, and plays them a tune,
And the children all dance by the light of the moon.

How often the wretch, in a city so gay,

Where pleasure and luxury follow his way;

When health quite forsakes him, and cheerfulness

fails,

Might envy a lad on the mountains of Wales!

THE IRISH BOY.

YOUNG Paddy is merry and happy, but poor,
His cabin is built in the midst of a moor;
No pretty green meadows about it are found,
But bogs in the middle, and mountains around.

This wild Irish lad, of all lads the most frisky,
Enjoys his spare meal of potatoes and whisky,
As he merrily sits, with no care on his mind,
At the door of his cabin, and sings to the wind.

JANE.

Close down at his feet lies his shaggy old dog,
Who has plung'd with his master thro' many a bog;
While Paddy sings "Liberty long shall reign o'er us."
Shag catches his ardour, and barks a loud chorus.

Young Paddy, indeed, is not polish'd or mild,
But his soul is as free as his country is wild:
And tho' unacquainted with fashion or dress,
His heart ever melts at the sound of distress,

Then let us not laugh at his bulls or his blunders, His broad native brogue, or his ignorant wonders; Nor will we by ridicule ever destroy,

The honest content of a wild Irish boy.

And thus, while I sing of the wild Irish lad;

The Welch boy; the Scotch, with his waistcoat of plaid;

I surely have no great inducement to roam,

From England, dear England, my own native home!

JANE.

66

GREEDY RICHARD.

"I THINK I want some pies this morning,"
Said Dick, stretching himself and yawning;
So down he threw his slate and books,
And saunter'd to the pastry-cook's.

And there he cast his greedy eyes,
Round on the jellies and the pies,
So to select, with anxious care,
The very nicest that was there.

At last the point was thus decided,
As his opinion was divided
"Twixt pie and jelly, he was loath
Either to leave, so took them both.

Now Richard never could be pleas'd
To eat till hunger was appeas'd,
But he'd go on to cram and stuff,
Long after he had had enough.

"I shan't take any more," said Dick, "Dear me, I feel extremely sick,

I cannot eat this other bit,

I wish I had not tasted it."

Then slowly rising from his seat,
He threw the cheesecake in the street,
And left the tempting pastry cook's,
With very discontented looks.

Just then a man with wooden leg
Met Dick, and held his hat to beg;
And while he told his mournful case,
Look'd at him with imploring face.

Dick, wishing to relieve his pain,
His pocket search'd, but search'd in vain,
And so at last he did declare,

He had not got a farthing there.

The beggar turn'd, with face of grief,

And look of patient unbelief,

While Richard, now completely tam'd,
Felt inconceivably asham'd.

"I wish," said he, (but wishing's vain,) I had my money back again,

And had not spent my last, to pay
For what I only threw away.

Another time I'll take advice,

And not buy things because they're nice;

But rather save my little store
To give poor folks, who want it more.

DIRTY JACK.

THERE was one little Jack,

Not very long back,

And 'tis said, to his lasting disgrace,

That he never was seen,

With his hands at all clean,

Nor yet ever clean was his face.

His friends were much hurt

To see so much dirt,

And often and well did they scour;

But all was in vain,

He was dirty again

Before they had done it an hour.

JANE,