A Serious Ballad.

“Like the two Kings of Brentford smelling at one nosegay.”

In Brentford town, of old renown,

There lived a Mister Bray,

Who fell in love with Lucy Bell,

And so did Mr. Clay.

To see her ride from Hammersmith,

By all it was allowed,

Such fair outsides are seldom seen,

Such Angels on a Cloud.

Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay,

You choose to rival me,

And court Miss Bell, but there your court

No thoroughfare shall be.

Unless you now give up your suit,

You may repent your love;

I who have shot a pigeon match,

Can shoot a turtle dove.

So pray before you woo her more,

Consider what you do;

If you pop aught to Lucy Bell —

I’ll pop it into you.

Said Mr. Clay to Mr. Bray,

Your threats I quite explode;

One who has been a volunteer

Knows how to prime and load.

And so I say to you unless

Your passion quiet keeps,

I who have shot and hit bulls’ eyes,

May chance to hit a sheep’s.

Now gold is oft for silver changed,

And that for copper red;

But these two went away to give

Each other change for lead.

But first they sought a friend apiece,
............