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 The same.

The swallow's come, winging His way to us here! Fair hours is he bringing, And a happy new year! White and black Are his belly and back. Give him welcome once more, With figs from your store, With wine in its flasket, And cheese in its basket, And eggs,—ay, and wheat if we ask it. Shall we go or receive? yes, we'll go, if you'll give; But, if you refuse us, we never will leave. We'll tear up the door, And the lintel and floor; And your wife, if you still demur— She is little and light—we will come to-night And run away e'en with her. But if you will grant The presents we want, Great good shall come of it, And plenty of profit! Come, throw open free Your doors to the swallow! Your children are we, Not old beggars, who follow.—E. B. C.

(Book ix. § 21, p. 595.)

Carian! time well thy ambidextrous part, Nor always filch. It was but yesterday, Blundering, they nearly caught thee in the fact; None of thy balls had livers, and the guests, In horror, pierced their airy emptiness. Not even the brains were there, thou brainless hound! If thou art hired among the middling class, Who pay thee freely, be thou honourable! But for this day, where now we go to cook, E'en cut the master's throat for all I care;