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The Illiberal! Verse and Prose from the North!!

... Dedicated to my Lord Byron in the South!! N.B. To be continued occasionally!! viz. as a supplement to each number of The Liberal [by William Gifford]
 
 
 
 
 

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AN ODE ON MAMMA's LAP-DOG.
 

AN ODE ON MAMMA's LAP-DOG.

LITTLE AITCH.
(Reads.)
There's dear little Phillis, she makes such a noise,
When she bites our heels, and cries bow-wow,
Bow-wow, bow-wow...Oh! look at her now;
She's tearing Mamma's ridicúle I vow;
O, the dear little darling, she is my delight.
Her great, great, great grand-dam belong'd to King Charles,
Her great, great, great grand-pa was his too, mayhap;
Yap yap, yap yap,—he still in my lap,
O, Phillis, she has such a musical yap,
And her breeding is quite à la “je ne scais quoi.”
Then, when I get up in the morning betimes,
Taking my Phillis to sport on the grass;
On the grass, on the grass—her capers surpass,
The goats on the Alps, “or the sly little lass,”
And she makes the “kids dance and the sheep also.”

12

When she steals in the garden, as sometimes she does,
She runs o'er the beds of most beautiful flowers—
The roses, the roses...she tears from the bowers;
And such havoc she makes, that I'm weeping for hours,
And thus little Phillis she passes her time.