Cura
Requiescat
Lines upon my Sister's Portrait
The Legend of St. Sophia of Kioff
Titmarsh's Carmen Lilliense
The Willow-Tree
The Willow-Tree (another version)

LYRA HIBERNICA:--

The Pimlico Pavilion
The Crystal Palace
Molony's Lament
Mr. Molony's Account of the Ball given to the Nepaulese
Ambassador by the Peninsular and Oriental Company
The Battle of Limerick
Larry O'Toole
The Rose of Flora
The Last Irish Grievance

THE BALLADS OF POLICEMAN X.:--

The Wofle New Ballad of Jane Roney and Mary Brown
The Three Christmas Waits
Lines on a Late Hospicious Ewent
The Ballad of Eliza Davis
Damages, Two Hundred Pounds
The Knight and the Lady
Jacob Homnium's Hoss
The Speculators
A Woeful New Ballad of the Protestant Conspiracy to take the
Pope's Life
The Lamentable Ballad of the Foundling of Shoreditch
The Organ Boy's Appeal

Little Billee
The End of the Play
Vanitas Vanitatum

BALLADS.

THE CHRONICLE OF THE DRUM.

PART I.

At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers,
Whoever will choose to repair,
Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriors
May haply fall in with old Pierre.
On the sunshiny bench of a tavern
He sits and he prates of old wars,
And moistens his pipe of tobacco
With a drink that is named after Mars.

The beer makes his tongue run the quicker,
And as long as his tap never fails,
Thus over his favorite liquor
Old Peter will tell his old tales.
Says he, "In my life's ninety summers
Strange changes and chances I've seen,--
So here's to all gentlemen drummers
That ever have thump'd on a skin.

"Brought up in the art military
For four generations we are;
My ancestors drumm'd for King Harry,
The Huguenot lad of Navarre.
And as each man in life has his station
According as Fortune may fix,
While Conde was waving the baton,
My grandsire was trolling the sticks.

"Ah! those were the days for commanders!
What glories my grandfather won,
Ere bigots, and lackeys, and panders
The fortunes of France had undone!
In Germany, Flanders, and Holland,--
What foeman resisted us then?
No; my grandsire was ever victorious,
My grandsire and Monsieur Turenne.

"He died: and our n