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Caution to Youth of both sexes. My little dears, who learn to read, Pray early learn to shun That very silly thing indeed Which people call a pun. Read Entick's rules, and 'twill be found How simple an offence It is make the self-same…

WHAT, when the heart is sick with grief,When joys are gone that us'd to be;Soothes us when all looks dark and drear:Lady? it is - Sympathy.WHEN long we've toil'd our bark to steerOf life far, far, from misery;But fail'd, and we were wreck'd on…

You are old, father William, the young man cried, The few locks which are left you are gray; You are hale, father William, a hearty old man, Now tell me the reason, I pray. In the days of my youth, father William replied, I remembered that youth…

An Enigma, said to have been written by Mr. Canning - which for a length of time baffled the skill of all England to solve."There is a word of plural number,A foe to peace and human slumber.Now any word you chance to take,By adding S, you plural…

Farewell! my dear friend, but I leave you with sorrow,And regret pains my breast that we ever must part;For in youth I look'd forward with hope to the morrow,That should give and bind to me a soul without art.I found thee congenial, my heart hail'd…

Adieu, to my dear native shore,To toss on the boisterous wave;To enjoy my kindred no more,But to weep - the tears of a SLAVE!By the sons of freemen I'm borne,To a land of the free and the brave;From my wife and children I'm torn,To weep - the sad…

Sweet minstrel, take thy harp again,And breathe upon its chords of fire;I claim one warm responsive strainOf holy friendship from thy lyre.No brighter them can poet ask,That fountain of Platonic love:Then sing, for thou art meet the task,Thy draught…

Oh haste thee, haste thee, the wreath will fade,We have twin'd to deck thy hair;Come, quickly come, too long thou hast staid,For the gay, and the happy are there.We have nam'd thee, Queen of the fairy ring,We wait but to crown thy brow;And wilt thou…

There is a crime of blackest die,Which man, on brother man commits;And well this trait of infamy,His dark unfeeling breast befits.It is no foulest homicide,The felon hath a purer heart;Not sacrilege that I deride!Though this would make a demon…

If the following be not merely `Fancy's Sketch,' it is at least to be hoped that the `Palace' of the fair original who sat for the picture, rears its cobwebbed ceilings in some far distant land.Give me one ounce of civit, good apothecary,To sweeten…