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BY RALPH RIGMAROLE, ESQUIRE.
Hail, little man!—Let eome what may,
Your losses won't be great—if any, Bunn: For, if there's truth in what folks say,
To bless yourself you've scarce a penny-Bunn!
But, then the proverb tells a man,
That nothing doth from nothing come, Bunn: Oh! fatal truth!—for, on this plan,
You never will be worth a plumb-Bunn.
LINES TO MR. BUNN.
For, go upon the thriftiest scale,
You certainly must make a botch, Bunn; And this wild spec of yours must fail,
Though you’re as hard as any Scotch-Bunn.
:-your temper's meek;
you an everlasting cross-Bunn.
Fly to the country ere too late;
And there, devoid of every jeal'sy, Bunn, On your annuity*_not great
Live like a pensioner-a Chelsea-Bunn.
advice-be wise now, come,
Any where—but London-go to Bath-Bunn.
* According to “Figaro in London ” this gentleman possesses an annuity of £42. 12s. 9d.