e Writers of the Sixteenth Century._

I'm sad and sore afraid,
That fickle, and forsworn,
I've sported life away,
And now am left forlorn.

Poor fool! I dreamt the years
Of youth would never fly,
And pleasure's brimming bowl
Methought could ne'er run dry.

That woman's bounteous love
Should e'er wax cold for me!
It seem'd that she must first
A woman cease to be.

Her fondest smiles I thought
My rights by charter were;
Her sighs, her tears, forsooth,--
Whilst I--was free as air.

I've knelt at many a shrine,
Of wit and beauty too;
I've lisp'd light vows to all,
And sworn that all were true.

My pastime was to gain
Their young and grateful love,
Then break the heart I won,
And straight to others rove.

Ah! wild wit, now at last
Thy vagrancies are o'er;
The ear and gazing eye
That you enthrall'd before.

No longer hear or see;
Whilst those you now would woo,
The time-worn truant slight,
Nor dream of love with you.

_New Monthly Magazine._

* * * * *

Dublin is a great city. Dublin, as the late Lord L----th used to say, is
"one of the tay-drinkenest, say-bathinest, car-drivinest places in the
world; it flogs for _divarsion._"

* * * * *

THE TOYMAN IS ABROAD.

(_Concluded from page 46._)

There is a point at which the inconvenience of superfluities so far
exceeds their utility, that luxury becomes converted into a perfect
bore. What, for instance, but an annoyance, would be the most splendid
feast, to a man whose stomach is already overladen with food? Human
ingenuity may effect much; and the Romans, by means of emetics, met this
emergency with considerable skill; but on a more enlarged experience of
general history, it must be conceded, that it is quite impossible to add
one more superfluous meal to those already established by general usage.
So also in matters of dress, ladies' hats must not be larger than the
actual doorways of the country will admit--not at least until time is
allowed for a corresponding increase in our architectural proportions.
With respect to personal ornaments also, ear-rings must not be so
weighty as to tear the lobes of the ears; nor should a bracelet prevent,
by its size, the motions of the arm. "Barbaric pomp and gold" is a fine
thing; but a medallion, as heavy and as cumbrous as a sh