The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

329
THE LOBSTERS.
[Footnote: Appeared at the time of the Anti-popery excitement,
produced by the titles of Cardinal Wiseman, etc.]
PUNCH.
As a young Lobster roamed about,
Itself and mother being out,
Their eyes at the same moment fell
On a boiled lobster's scarlet shell
"Look," said the younger; "is it true
That we might wear so bright a hue?
No coral, if I trust mine eye,
Can with its startling brilliance vie;
While you and I must be content
A dingy aspect to present."
"Proud heedless fool," the parent cried;
"Know'st thou the penalty of pride?
The tawdry finery you wish,
Has ruined this unhappy fish.
The hue so much by you desired
By his destruction was acquired--
So be contented with your lot,
Nor seek to change by going to pot."
TO SONG-BIRDS ON A SUNDAY.
PUNCH.
Silence, all! ye winged choir;
Let not yon right reverend sire
Hear your happy symphony:
'Tis too good for such as he.
On the day of rest divine,
He poor townsfolk would confine
In their crowded streets and lanes,
Where they can not hear your strains.