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 Museums may reject the filthy lot I’ll mount the scull a novel * * What matter? filled; more fertile than its brains ’T will scatter plenty, not hoard up its gains— Among the rubbish, for the Paris show, See here one thing from which some blessings flow Shown with marsupial Australian fleas; View Mammon’s scull, from the antipodes———

Realm vies with realm in fashion and haut ton The modern Cyclop strives with Solomon—— In solemn silence, the Jew’s temple rose, As was commanded, and tradition shows Our commerce temples cause a world’s uproar, And steam-struck anvils ring from shore to shore. Now lightning wafts the message round the World, And man o’er sea o’er land by steam is whirled While the sun paints with undissembling ray Progressive labor of each toilsome day—— From Taprobane, gems and ivory wend, And Tarshish still her sunny gifts shall send; While Worlds unknown transmit the precious ore, In masses Ophir never dreamt of yore;——— But apes are shipped from classic Sydney Cove, As supercargoes of its treasure trove; Samples from Goshen to enlighten France, Baboonsin brains as well as countenance—— Full many a Hiram’s master mason there A Tubal Cain prove each artificer, Boaz and Jachin rise on vapours breath And domes ascend with magic shibboleth——

Start not star gazer P. P. K. RN. We ne’er can contemplate your like again In Logs, proportionals, in you, are seen Both him of Merchiston, and Maskelyne,— So say the Dons,—and I am over quick To grant full measure to a Lunatic, For transits, fluxions, calculus combin’d