SIR FEATHERBRIGHT. (AN APOLOGUE.) BY RICHARD HENGIST HORNE, Author of "Orion," &c. Where ships cannot sight you, though waving your scarf, Unless you can mount to a high degree. Sir Featherbright he got on a wall— A lofty brick wall on a sun-shiny day; And after he'd learnt how to creep and crawl, He walked up and down, and smiled upon all Who were idle and rich, as they pass'd that way. This popular Dwarf has some pills to sell, Of chaff, and sweet gum--so the bright gilding sticks ;The quantity sold every day I can't tell ; And the novelty-mongers soon knew him well, The buffo-burlesque-ridden crowds of the Fair, With which the Dwarf sold them-to smile, sigh, and stare A Giant came by with a sack of corn A large naked man with a noble face; He had plough'd,-sow'd,-reap'd, and a long way borne But though he brought grain, and was massive and tall, |