THE BROWNIES IN ENGLAND.

Said one: “It looks as fine as when
It left the compasses of Wren;

No greater monument could be
Erected to his memory.”

About the place some hours they stayed,
Then to Westminster Abbey paid

A visit, where they rambled round,
And soon the Poets’ Corner found,
To moralize, as well they might,
Before the busts and statues white,
That were by skilful hands designed
To represent some master mind.

 

More nights than one they slacked their gait
In fogs that wrapped the city great,

And poked about until distressed

In seeking for some place to rest.

Some tried with lanterns to pursue

Their way to points they better knew,
While others sought some place to hide
Until the pall should drift aside.

Said one: “This town so large and fine
Would be a favorite spot of mine

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