Of all their tribe there's none,

Of form so fair, of voice so sweet.
Who'll then regard the linnet's note,
Or heed the lark's melodious throat?
What pensive lovers then shall dwell
With raptures on their Philomel?
The goldfinch shall his plumage hide,
The swan abate her stately pride,
And Juno's bird no more display
His various glories to the sunny day :
Then grant thy Suppliant's prayer,
And bless my longing ear

With notes that I would die to hear!'
Flattery prevail'd, the Crow believed
The tale, and was with joy deceived;
In haste to show her want of skill,
She open'd wide her bill:

She scream'd as if the de'il was in her.

Her vanity became so strong

That, wrapt in her own frightful song,

She quite forgot, and dropt her dinner : The morsel fell quick by the place

Where Reynard lay,

Who seized the prey

And ate it without saying grace.

He, sneezing cried, 'The day's my own,

My end's obtain'd,

The prize is gain'd,

And now I'll change my note.

Vain, foolish, cheated Crow,

Lend your attention now,
A truth or two I'll tell you!
For, since I've fill'd my belly,

Of course my flatt'ry's done :
Think you I took such pains,

And spoke so well only to hear you croak! No, 'twas the luscious bait,

And a keen appetite to eat,

That first inspired, and carried on the cheat.
'Twas hunger furnish'd hands and matter,
Flatterers must live by those they flatter;
But weep not, Crow! a tongue like mine
Might turn an abler head than thine;
And though reflection may displease,
If wisely you apply your thought,
To learn the lesson I have taught,
Experience, sure, is cheaply bought,

And richly worth a slice of cheese.'

THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER.

A Ballad.

JOHN G. SAXE.

AN Attorney was taking a turn,

In shabby habiliments drest; His coat it was shockingly worn,

And the rust had invested his vest.

His linen and worsted were worse; He had scarce a whole crown in his hat, And not half-a-crown in his purse.

And thus as he wander'd along,
A cheerless and comfortless elf,
He sought for relief in a song,

Or complainingly talk'd to himself:

'Unfortunate man that I am!

I've never a client but grief;

The case is, I've no case at all,
And in brief, I've ne'er had a brief!

'I've waited and waited in vain,

Expecting an 'opening' to find, Where an honest young lawyer might gain Some reward for the toil of his mind.

''Tis not that I'm wanting in law, Or lack an intelligent face, That others have cases to plead,

While I have to plead for a case.

'Oh, how can a modest young man

E'er hope for the smallest progression

The profession's already so full

Of lawyers so full of profession I'

While thus he was strolling around,
His eye accidentally fell

On a very deep hole in the ground,
And he sigh'd to himself, 'It is well!'

To curb his emotions he sat

On the curb-stone the space of a minute, Then cried, 'Here's an opening at last!' And in less than a jiffy was in it!

Next morning twelve citizens came
('Twas the coroner bade them attend),
To the end that it might be determined
How the man had determined his end!

'The man was a lawyer, I hear,'

Quoth the foreman who sat on the corse; 'A lawyer? Alas!' said another, 'Undoubtedly he died of remorse !'

A third said, 'He knew the deceased,
An attorney well versed in the laws,
And as to the cause of his death,

'Twas no doubt from the want of a cause.'

The jury decided at length,

After solemnly weighing the matter,

'That the lawyer was drownded, because

He could not keep his head above water!'

SORROWS OF WERTHER.

W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

WERTHER had a love for Charlotte

Such as words could never utter;
know how first he met her?

Would you

She was cutting bread and butter.

Charlotte was a married lady,

And a moral man was Werther,
And for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.

So he sigh'd and pined and ogled,
And his passion boil'd and bubbled,

Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.

Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,

Like a well-conducted person,

Went on cutting bread and butter.

George P. Morris is a well-known American journalist, and author of several very popular songs. He has published a volume of