Where either I must live, or bear no life—
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up-to be discarded thence !-
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads

To knot and gender in !—

Turn thy complexion there,

Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubimr!-
Ay, there-look black as hell!

Shakspeare.

COMIC PIECES.

The Well of St. Keyne.

A Well there is in the west country,
And a clearer one never was seen;
There is not a wife in the west country
But has heard of the Well of St. Keyne.

An oak and an elm tree stand beside,
And behind does an ash tree grow,
And a willow from the bank above
Droops to the water below.

A traveller came to the Well of St. Keyne;
Joyfully he drew nigh,

For from cock-crow he had been travelling,
And there was not a cloud in the sky.

He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he,

And he sat down upon the bank

Under the willow-tree.

There came a man from the neighbouring town
At the Well to fill his pail ;

On the Well-side he rested it,
And he bade the stranger hail.

Now art thou a bachelor, Stranger ?" quoth he, "For an if thou hast a wife,

The happiest draught thou hast drunk this day That ever thou didst in thy life.

"Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast, Ever here in Cornwall been?

For an if she have, I'll venture my life

She has drunk of the Well of St. Keyne."

"I have left a good woman who never was here," The stranger he made reply,

"But that my draught should be better for that, I pray you answer me why."

"St. Keyne," quoth the Cornish-man, "many a time Drank of this crystal Well,

And before the Angel summon'd her,
She laid on the water a spell-

"If the husband-of this gifted Well
Shall drink before his wife,

A happy man henceforth is he,

For he shall be master for life.

"But if the wife should drink of it first,-
God help the husband then!"

The stranger stoop'd to the Well of St. Keyne,
And drank of the water again.

"You drank of the Well I warrant betimes ?"
He to the Cornish-man said:

But the Cornish-man smiled as the stranger spake,
And sheepishly shook his head.

"I hasten'd as soon as the wedding was done,
And left my wife in the porch;

But i'faith she had been wiser than I,
For she took a bottle to church."

Lodgings for Single Gentlemen.

Southey.

Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown place,
Has seen "Lodgings to Let" stare him full in the face:
Some are good, and let dearly; while some, 'tis well
known,

Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone.
Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely,
Hired lodgings that took Single Gentlemen only;
But Will was so fat, he appear'd like a tun;—
Or like two Single Gentlemen roll'd into One.
He enter❜d his rooms, and to bed he retreated ;
But all the night long he felt fever'd and heated;
And, though heavy to weigh, as a score of fat sheep,
He was not, by any means, heavy to sleep.-

Next night 'twas the same!-and the next!-and the

next!

He perspired like an ox; he was nervous, and vex'd; Week pass'd after week, till, by weekly succession, His weakly condition was past all expression.

In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him;

For his skin, like a lady's loose gown, hung about him!
So he sent for a Doctor, and cried, like a ninny,
"I have lost many pounds-make me well-there's a
guinea."

The Doctor look'd wise :-" a slow fever," he said:
Prescribed sudorifics-and going to bed.-
"Sudorifics in bed," exclaim'd Will, "are humbugs!
I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs!"
Will kick'd out the doctor:-but, when ill indeed,
E'en dismissing the Doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host, he said-" Sir, do you know,
I'm the fat Single gentleman six months ago?

"Look ye, landlord, I think," argued Will with a grin, "That with honest intentions you first took me in: But from the first night-and to say it I'm bold— I've been so very hot, that I'm sure I've caught cold!' Quoth the landlord," Till now, I ne'er had a dispute I've let lodgings ten years,-I'm a baker to boot; In airing your sheets, Sir, my wife is no sloven; And your bed is immediately-over my oven." "The oven!!!"-says Will ;-says the host, "Why this passion?

In that excellent bed died three people of fashion! Why so crusty, good Sir ?"-"Zounds!" cried Will in a taking,

Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking?" Will paid for his rooms;-cried the host, with a sneer, "Well, I see you've been going away half a year." Friend, we can't well agree;-yet no quarrel"-Will

said;

"But I'd rather not perish, while you make your

bread."

Colman.

Life compared to the Stage.

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players!
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts;
His acts being seven ages. First the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms,
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then the soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel;
Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth! And then the justice,
In fair round belly, with good capon lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved! a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound! Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness, or mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing!

The Chameleon.

Shakspeare.

Oft has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes that hardly served at most
To guard their master 'gainst a post;
Yet round the world the blade had been
To see whatever could be seen.
Returning from his finish'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before;
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell❜d fool your mouth will stop-
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