ighty pudding sheds its sweets around.
Heard ye the din of dinner bray?
Knife to fork, and fork to knife:
Unnumber'd heroes through the glorious strife,
Through fish, flesh, pies, and puddings cut their destin'd way.

See, beneath the mighty blade,
Gor'd with many a ghastly wound,
Low the fam'd Sir-loin is laid,
And sinks in many a gulph profound.
Arise, arise, ye sons of glory,
Pies and puddings stand before ye;
See, the ghosts of hungry bellies
Point at yonder stand of jellies;
While such dainties are beside ye.
Snatch the goods the gods provide ye:
Mighty rulers of this state,
Snatch before it be too late,
For, swift as thought, the puddings, jellies, pies,
Contract their giant bulks, and shrink to pigmy size.

From the table now retreating,
All around the fire they meet,
And, with wine, the sons of eating,
Crown, at length, the mighty treat:
Triumphant plenty's rosy graces
Sparkle in their jolly faces:
And mirth and cheerfulness are seen
In each countenance serene.
Fill high the sparkling glass,
And drink the accustom'd toast;
Drink deep, ye mighty host,
And let the bottle pass.
Begin, begin, the jovial strain,
Fill, fill, the mystic bowl,
And drink, and drink, and drink again,
For drinking fires the soul

But soon, too soon, with one accord they reel
Each on his seat begins to nod.
All conquering Bacchus' power they feel,
And pour libations to the jolly god.
At length with dinner, and with wine oppressed,
Down in their chairs they sink, and give themselves to rest.

HUGH DELMORE.

* * * * *

THE TOPOGRAPHER

VISIT TO MATLOCK BATHS.

(_For the Mirror._)

It was on a fine evening in autumn, when the rays of departing day began
to glimmer in the west, and twilight had just spread her dusky gloom.
All was silent, save the low rushing of the Derwent stream, purling its
way through dense groves, and winding round the stupendous rock of
_Matlock's Vale._ As I paced along, the grave, sombre hue of evening
fell full on the rocks, which rose in magnificent grandeur, and seemed
to look with contempt on all around them. These beauties, combined with
the gray tint of the stone, the cawing of the rooks, which nestle in
the crevices and underwood, with n