[ 320 ] [SEPT. 



AN AQUATIC PASTORAL ; A TALE OF THE THAMES. 

 BY A COCKNEY. 



THE tide was fair and flowing, 



All rippling gold and pearls, 

 And we, to Twickenham going 



Engaged a boat from Searle a. 



The waves beneath were clear, 



And the sun was overhead ; 

 'T would have done you good to hear 



All the drolleries we said. 



We pulled away with glee, 



Our wit was on the flow. 

 And, like happy herrings, we 



Were enraptured with our row. 



Thus o'er our little bark 



No tempest seemed to wait ; 

 For we meant to have a " lark," 



Though it were " at heaven's gate." 



And thus we found, like Pucks, 



The flowers that fancy culls ; 

 And soon rivalled little ducks, 



In feathering our skulls. 



But when, with wearied wing, 



At length we wished to land, 

 Methought that I could spring 



From the skiff upon the strand. 



So waves and wisdom spurning, 



I stood upon the seat, 

 And my head was almost turning 



When I thought upon my feat. 



I looked upon the flood, 



But the boat began to reel ; 

 So I slipped and in the mud 



Lay embedded like an eel. 



Some poles were near, defining 



The boundaries of the stream ; 

 And I struck the sun was shining 



My head against a beam ! 



But a crowd soon drew about, 



Attracted by the din ; 

 So divers drew me out, 



And then bore me to an inn. 



To a girl who brought me brandy, 



And laughed to see me shiver, 

 I said " This house is handy 



For tumblers in the river ; 



They're often brought in here ?" 



" Oh ! yes, sir ; and with reason ; 

 There's thousands in a year 



But you're early in the season !" 



" This girl," thought I, " has stumbled 



Upon the very thing ; 

 For I never should have tumbled 



But in a backward Spring /" B. 



