* * * * *
LAM(B)ENTATIONS.
Ye banks and braes o' Buckingham,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair,
When I am on my latest legs,
And may not bask amang ye mair!
And you, sweet maids of honour,--come,
Come, darlings, let us jointly mourn,
For your old flame must now depart,
Depart, oh! never to return!
Oft have I roam'd o'er Buckingham,
From room to room, from height to height;
It was such pleasant exercise,
And gave me _such_ an appetite!
Yes! when the _dinner-hour_ arrived,
For me they never had to wait,
I was the first to take my chair,
And spread my ample napkin straight.
And if they did not quickly come,
After the dinner-bell had knoll'd,
I just ran up my _private stairs_,
To say the things were getting cold!
But now, farewell, ye pantry steams,
(The sweets of premiership to me),
Ye gravies, relishes, and creams,
Malmsey and Port, and Burgundy!
Full well I mind the days gone by,--
'Twas nought but sleep, and wake, and dine;
Then _John_ and _Pal_ sang o' _their_ luck,
And fondly sae sang I o' mine!
But now, how sad the scene, and changed!
_Johnny_ and _Pal_ are glad nae mair!
Oh! banks and braes o' Buckingham!
How _can_ you bloom sae fresh and fair!
* * * * *
CHELSEA.
(From our own Correspondent.
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