The cold transparent ham is on my fork It hardly rains--and hark the bell!--ding dingle Away!
Three thousand feet at gravel work,
Mocking a Vauxhall shower!--Married and single Crush--rush;--soaked silks with wet white satin mingle.
Hengler!
Madame! round whom all bright sparks lurk,
Calls audibly on Mr. and Mrs.
Pringle To study the sublime, &c.--(vide Burke),
All noses are upturned!
Whish-ish!--on high The rocket rushes, trails, just steals in sight-- Then droops and melts in bubbles of blue light-- And darkness reigns--then balls flare up and die-- Wheels whiz--smack crackers--serpents twist--and then Back to the cold transparent ham again!"The English Garden" a poem in 4 books by William Mason.
