  July, 1837. BEING A BAPTISMAL CHAUNT FOR THE BIRTH OF OUR SECOND VOLUME, AS SUNG (IN CHARACTER) BY FATHER PROUT. (Tune "The groves of Blarney.") "Ille ego qui quondam," &c. &c.—Æneid. I. In the month of Janus, When Boz to gain us, Quite "miscellaneous," Flashed his wit so keen, One, (Prout they call him,) In style most solemn, Led off the volume Of his magazine. II. Though Maga, 'mongst her Bright set of youngsters, Had many songsters For her opening tome; Yet she would rather Invite "the Father," And an indulgence gather From the Pope of Rome. III. And, such a beauty From head to shoe-tie, Without dispute we Found her first boy, That she detarmined, There's such a charm in 't, The Father's sarmint She'd again employ. IV. While other children Are quite bewilderin', 'Tis joy that fill'd her in This bantling; 'cause What eye but glistens, And what ear but listens, When the clargy christens A babe of Boz? V. I've got a scruple That this young pupil Surprised its parent Ere her time was sped; Else I'm unwary, Or, 'tis she's a fairy, For in January She was brought to bed. VI. This infant may be A six months' baby, But may his cradle Be blest! say I; And luck defend him! And joy attend him! Since we can't mend him, Born in July. VII. He's no abortion, But born to fortune, And most opportune, Though before his time; Him, Muse, O! nourish, And make him flourish Quite Tommy-Moorish Both in prose and rhyme! VIII. I remember, also, That this month they call so, From Roman Julius The "CÆsarian" styled; Who was no gosling, But, like this Boz-ling, From birth a dazzling And precocious child! GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! |
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