Men, birds, brutes, reptiles, fish-all cramm'd together

With ladies that might pass for well-tann'd leather.

Where Rameses and Sabacon lie down,

And splendid Psammis in his hide of crust; Princes and heroes, men of high renown,

Who in their day kick'd up a mighty dust,Their swarthy Mummies kick'd up dust in num

bers,

When huge Belzoni came to scare their slumbers.

Who'd think these rusty hams of mine were seated
At Dido's table when the wondrous tale
Of" Juno's hatred " was so well repeated?
And ever and anon the Queen turned pale;
Meanwhile the brilliant gas-lights, hung above her,
Threw a wild glare upon her shipwreck'd lover.

Ay, gas-lights! mock me not; we men of yore Were versed in all the knowledge you can mention;

Who hath not heard of Egypt's peerless lore? Her patient toil? acuteness of invention ? Survey the proofs-our Pyramids are thriving,Old Memnon still looks young, and I'm surviving.

A land in arts and sciences prolific,

On blocks gigantic building up her fame! Crowded with signs, and letters hieroglyphic, Temples and obelisks her skill proclaim! Yet though her art and toil unearthly seem, Those blocks were brought on RAIL-ROADS and by STEAM!

How, when, and why, our people came to rear
The Pyramid of Cheops, mighty pile!
This and the other secrets thou shalt hear;

I will unfold, if thou wilt stay awhile,

The hist'ry of the Sphinx, and who began it,
Our mystic marks, and monsters made of granite.

Well, then, in grievous times, when King Cephrenes

But, ah! what's this?-the shades of bards and

kings

Press on my lips their fingers! What they mean is, I am not to reveal these hidden things.

Mortal, farewell! Till Science' self unbind them, Men must e'en take these secrets as they find them.

MUMMIUS.

The Forging of the Anchor.

COME, see the Dolphin's anchor forged; 'tis at a white heat now;

The bellows ceased, the flames decreased; though on the forge's brow

The little flames still fitfully play through the sable

mound;

And fitfully you still may see the grim smiths ranking round,

All clad in leathern panoply, their broad hands only bare;

Some rest upon their sledges here, some work the windlass there.

The windlass strains the tackle chains, the black mound heaves below,

And red and deep a hundred veins burst out at every throe;

It rises, roars, rends all outright—O Vulcan, what a glow!

'Tis blinding white, 'tis blasting bright, the high sun shines not so!

The high sun sees not, on the earth, such fiery fearful show;

The roof-ribs swarth, the candent hearth, the ruddy lurid row

Of smiths, that stand, an ardent band, like men before the foe;

As, quivering through his fleece of flame, the sailing monster slow

Sinks on the anvil-all about the faces fiery growHurrrah," they shout, "leap out-leap out:" bang, bang, the sledges go;

Hurrah; the jetted lightnings are hissing high and low; A hailing fount of fire is struck at every squashing

blow;

The leathern mail rebounds the hail; the rattling' cinders strow

The ground around; at every bound the sweltering fountains flow:

And thick and loud the sinking crowd, at every stroke, pant "Ho!"

Leap out, leap out, my masters; leap out and lay on load!

Let's forge a goodly Anchor, a bower, thick and broad;

M

For a heart of oak is hanging on every blow, I

bode,

And I see the good ship riding, all in a perilous

road;

The low reef roaring on her lee, the roll of ocean

pour'd

From stem to stern, sea after sea, the mainmast by the board;

The bulwarks down, the rudder gone, the boats stove at the chains,

But courage still, brave mariners, the bower still

remains,

And not an inch to flinch he deigns save when ye pitch sky-high,

Then moves his head, as though he said, "Fear nothing-here am I!"

Swing in your strokes in order, let foot and hand keep time,

Your blows make music sweeter far than any steeple's chime!

But while ye swing your sledges, sing; and let the burden be,

The Anchor is the Anvil King, and royal craftsmen

we;

Strike in, strike in, the sparks begin to dull their rustling red!

Our hammers ring with sharper din, our work will soon be sped;

Our anchor soon must change his bed of fiery rich

array,

For a hammock at the roaring bows, or an oozy couch of clay;

Our anchor soon must change the lay of merry

craftsmen here,

For the Yeo-heave-o, and the Heave-away, and the sighing seaman's cheer;

Then weighing slow, at eve they go, far, far from love and home,

And sobbing sweethearts, in a row, wail o'er the ocean foam.

In livid and obdurate gloom, he darkens down at last,

A shapely one he is and strong, as e'er from cat

was cast.

A trusted and trustworthy guard, if thou hadst life

like me,

What pleasures would thy toils reward beneath the deep green sea!

O deep sea-diver, who might then behold such sights as thou?

The hoary monsters' palaces! methinks what joy 'twere now

To go plump plunging down amid the assembly of the whales,

And feel the churned sea round me boil beneath their scourging tails!

Then deep in tangle-woods to fight the fierce seaunicorn,

And send him foil'd and bellowing back, for all his ivory horn;

To leave the subtle sworder-fish, of bony blade for

lorn,

And for the ghastly grinning shark, to laugh his jaws to scorn;