"Alas; they've taken my beau Ben

To sail with old Benbow;"

And her woe began to run afresh,

As if she 'd said Gee woe!

Says he, "They've only taken him To the Tender ship, you see;" "The Tender-ship," cried Sally Brown, "What a hard-ship that must be !

"Oh! would I were a mermaid now,
For then I'd follow him;
But oh!--I'm not a fish-woman,
And so I cannot swim.

"Alas! I was not born beneath
The Virgin and the Scales,
So I must curse my cruel stars,
And walk about in Wales."

Now Ben had sailed to many a place That's underneath the world;

But in two years the ship came home, And all her sails were furled.

But when he call'd on Sally Brown,

To see how she went on,

He found she'd got another Ben,
Whose Christian-name was John.

"O Sally Brown, O Sally Brown,
How could you serve me so?
I've met with many a breeze before,
But never such a blow:"

Then reading on his 'bacco box,
He heaved a bitter sigh,
And then began to eye his pipe,
And then to pipe his eye.

And then he tried to sing "All's Well," But could not though he tried ;

His head was turn'd, and so he chew'd His pigtail till he died.

His death, which happen'd in his birth,

At forty-odd befell:

They went and told the sexton, and

The sexton toll'd the bell.

53

"O my bonny, bonny Bet!"

BACKING THE FAVOURITE.

Ha pistol, or a knife!

For I'm weary of my life,

My cup has nothing sweet left to flavour it ;

My estate is out at nurse,

And my heart is like my purse,

And all through backing of the Favourite!

D

At dear O'Neil's first start,

I sported all my heart,

Oh, Becher, he never marr'd a braver hit!

For he cross'd her in her

race,

And made her lose her place,

And there was an end of that Favourite!

Anon, to mend my chance,

For the Goddess of the Dance *

I pined, and told my enslaver it !

But she wedded in a canter,

And made me a Levanter,

In foreign lands to sigh for the Favourite!

Then next Miss M. A. Tree

I adored, so sweetly she

Could warble like a nightingale and quaver it,But she left that course of life

To be Mr Bradshaw's wife,

And all the world lost on the Favourite!

*The late favourite of the King's Theatre, who left the pas seul of life, for a perpetual Ball. Is not that her effigy now commonly borne about by the Italian image venders--an ethereal form holding a wreath with both hands above her head-and her husband, in emblem, beneath her foot?

But out of sorrow's surf

Soon I leap'd upon the turf,

Where fortune loves to wanton it and waver it ;

But standing on the pet,

"O my bonny, bonny Bet!"

Black and yellow pull'd short up with the Favourite!

Thus flung by all the crack,

I resolved to cut the pack,

The second-raters seem'd then a safer hit!

So I laid my little odds

Against Memnon! O ye Gods!

Am I always to be floor'd by the Favourite!