education.

* * * * *



"OUT OF SEASON," OR THE BEAU'S LAMENT.

(_For the Mirror._)

"There is no labour so great as idleness."


Heigho! what a blank is our being! ahi!
For there's nobody left in the town,
That's nobody fit to associate with _me;_
Dinner's up, but my spirits are down,
I can't eat or drink (how should I?) for sorrow,
And the lack of some usual treat,
And I surely should hang me, or marry tomorrow,
Were there not a few _bawls_ in the street.

Hang! marry! said I, why I'm now _drown'd_ in tears,
Who am wont in _sham pain_ to lose real;
And could pull my own house down, about my own ears
For lack of amusements ideal;
But plays, concerts, shopping, Di'ramas so bright,
That enlarge the pent mind at a view,
Are fled with my friends; I'm the wretchedest _wight_
That from devil _ennui_, e'er look'd _blue!_