Brisk let us revel, while revel we may ;

* For the gay bloom of fifty soon passes away, And then people get fat,

And infirm, and—all that,

† And a wig (I confess it) so clumsily sits, That it frightens the little Loves out of their wits.

S Thy whiskers, too, Y-RM-TH!-alas, even they,
Though so rosy they burn,

Too quickly must turn

(What a heart-breaking change for thy whiskers!) to

GREY.

**Then why, my Lord Warden! oh! why should you

fidget

Your mind about matters you don't understand? Or why should you write yourself down for an idiot, Because "you," forsooth, "have the pen in your hand!"

Think, think how much better

Than scribbling a letter

(Which both you and I

Should avoid, by the bye)—

* How much pleasanter 'tis to sit under the bust Of old CHARLEY, my friend here, and drink like a

new one;

While CHARLEY looks sulky and frowns at me, just
As the ghost in the pantomime frowns at Don
Juan!

†To crown us, Lord Warden!

In C-MB-RL-ND's garden

Grows plenty of monk's-hood in venomous sprigs; While Otto of Roses,

Refreshing all noses,

Shall sweetly exhale from our whiskers and wigs. S What youth of the Household will cool our noyau

* Cur non sub alta vel platano, vel hac

In that streamlet delicious,
That, down 'midst the dishes,
All full of good fishes

Romantic doth flow ?-
* Or who will repair

Unto M---- Sq-me,
And see if the gentle Marchesa be there?

Go-bid her haste hither,
† And let her bring with her
The newest No-Popery Sermon that's going-
S Oh! let her come with her dark tresses flowing,

All gentle and juvenile, curly and gay,
In the manner of ACKERMANN's Dresses for May !

HORACE, ODE xxii. LIB. i.

Freely translated by Lord Eld-n.

**The man who keeps a conscience pure?
(If not his own, at least his Prince's),
Quis

Through toil and danger walks secure,

, Looks big, and black, and never winces!

* No want has he of sword or dagger,

Cock'd hat or ringlets of GERAMB ; Though Peers may laugh, and Papists swagger,

He does not care one single d-mn!

+ Whether 'midst Irish chairmen going,

Or, through St. Giles's alleys dim, 'Mid drunken Sheelahs, blasting, blowing,

No matter-'tis all one to him.

S For instance, I, one evening late,

Upon a gay vacation sally,

* Non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu,
Nec venenatis gravida sagittis

Fusce, pharetra.
+ Sive per Syrteis iter æstuosas,

Sive facturus per inhospitalem
Caucasum, vel quæ loca fabulosus

Lambit Hydaspes. The Noble Translator had, at first, laid the scene of these imagined dangers of his Man of Conscience among the Papists of Spain, and had translated the words “ quæ loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes” thus-" The fabling Spaniard licks the French;” but, recollecting that it is our interest just now to be respectful to Spanish Catholics (though there is certainly no earthly reason for our being even commonly civil to Irish ones), he altered the passage as it stands at present.

Namque me silvâ lupus in Sabina,
Dum meam canto Lalagen, et ultra

Singing the praise of Church and State,
Got (God knows how) to Cranbourne-Alley.
When lo! an Irish Papist darted

Across my path, gaunt, grim, and big-
I did but frown, and off he started,
Scared at me even without my wig!

* Yet a more fierce and raw-boned dog
Goes not to Mass in Dublin City,
Nor shakes his brogue o'er Allen's Bog,
Nor spouts in Catholic Committee!

Terminum curis vagor expeditis
Fugit inermem.

I cannot help calling the reader's attention to the peculiar ingenuity with which these lines are paraphrased. Not to mention the happy conversion of the Wolf into a Papist (seeing that ROMULUS was suckled by a Wolf, that Rome was founded by ROMULUS, and that the Pope has always reigned at Rome), there is something particularly neat in supposing "ultra terminum to mean vacation-time; and then the modest consciousness with which the Noble and Learned Translator has avoided touching upon the words “curis expeditis” (or, as it has been otherwise read, " causis expeditis)," and the felicitous idea of his being “ inermis” when “ without his wig," are altogether the most delectable specimens of paraphrase in our language.

* Quale portentum neque militaris

Daunia in latis alit æsculetis,
Nec Juba tellus generat, leonum
Arida nutrix.