thought
Can tell their tales together;
The maiden from the mansion,
And the lady from the villa,
Can wander there and shed a tear
Beneath the weeping willow.

This bonny little garden
Is fine for perambulators,
Where our handsome servant-lasses
Can wheel our lovely creatures,
And oh! how happy they will be!
As time they are beguiling,
When the mammy and the daddy
Are upon the babies smiling.

Oh! this pretty little garden,
Which every one admires,
Which pleased His Grace the Noble Duke
To give our little squires.
The news was something wonderful,
Like the shooting of a rocket,
When they heard that they had got a Park,
And were "nothing out o'pocket."

In this pretty little garden,
With all its blossom blooming
We can sit and sing the whole day long,
From the morning till the gloaming;
And tell Dame Keighley's blunders,
When her sons were naught but asses;
And could not even raise a Park,
To please the upper classes.

Then let us give the Noble Duke,
The praises of the Borough--
For if we did not thank His Grace,
We should commit an error--
And not forgetting Mr. Leach,
For he deserves rewarding,
For it is known he got the town
This pretty little garden.

[Picture: Picture of a rose]

Farewell to the
REV. H. J. LONGSDON,
Formerly Rector of Keighley.

Farewell dear friend, nor take it hard,
To leave the town where thou hast been,
Where many a joy we hope thou'st had,
Though witness'd many a sorry scene.

Thy works were good, we know it well,
We watched thee in thy weary toil;
Where oft obstruction, shame to tell,
Waits on the good their plans to spoil.

Yet thou dids't toil without a fear
From day to day, from year to year;
Beloved by all, thy foes are few,
And they are loth to bid adieu.

We saw thee in the early dawn
Up with the lark at break of morn,
Thy duties promptly to attend,
Our shepherd, pastor, and our friend.

With good advice to one and all,
The old, the young, the great, the small;
In lane or house, in church or street,
Thy presence we were glad to meet.

"Thou art a man! a man! a man!"
The Poet quotes from some old play;
"An upright, honest gentleman,
Whose likes we meet not every day."

And when thou leavest us behind,
Our recollections will not die--
Of thee whose meekness, zeal, and love,
Are known alike to low and high.

Out from