Ingoldsby. Year By Year Do Beauty'S Daughters, In The Sweetest Gloves And Shawls, Troop To Taste The Chattenham Waters, And Adorn The Chattenham Balls. 'Nulla Non Donanda Lauru' Is That City: You Could Not, Placing England'S Map Before You, Light On A More Favoured Spot. If No Clear Translucent River Winds 'Neath Willow-Shaded Paths, "Children And Adults" May Shiver All Day In "Chalybeate Baths:" If "The Inimitable Fechter" Never Brings The Gallery Down, Constantly "The Great Protector" There "Rejects The British Crown:" And On Every Side The Painter Looks On Wooded Vale And Plain And On Fair Hills, Faint And Fainter Outlined As They Near The Main. There I Met With Him, My Chosen Friend - The 'Long' But Not 'Stern Swell,' {15A} Faultless In His Hats And Hosen, Whom The Johnian Lawns Know Well:- Oh My Comrade, Ever Valued! Still I See Your Festive Face; Hear You Humming Of "The Gal You'd Left Behind" In Massive Bass: See You Sit With That Composure On The Eeliest Of Hacks, That The Novice Would Suppose Your Manly Limbs Encased In Wax: Or Anon, - When Evening Lent Her Tranquil Light To Hill And Vale, - Urge, Towards The Table'S Centre, With Unerring Hand, The Squail. Ah Delectablest Of Summers! How My Heart - That "Muffled Drum" Which Ignores The Aid Of Drummers - Beats, As Back Thy Memories Come! Oh, Among The Dancers Peerless, Fleet Of Foot, And Soft Of Eye! Need I Say To You That Cheerless Must My Days Be Till I Die? At My Side She Mashed The Fragrant Strawberry; Lashes Soft As Silk Drooped O'Er Saddened Eyes, When Vagrant Gnats Sought Watery Graves In Milk: Then We Danced, We Walked Together; Talked - No Doubt On Trivial Topics; Such As Blondin, Or The Weather, Which "Recalled Us To The Tropics." But - Oh! In The Deuxtemps Peerless, Fleet Of Foot, And Soft Of Eye! - Once More I Repeat, That Cheerless Shall My Days Be Till I Die. And The Lean And Hungry Raven, As He Picks My Bones, Will Start To Observe 'M. N.' Engraven Neatly On My Blighted Heart.