Part 4 — ODE TO THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT ON HIS WONDERFUL REAPPEARANCE. PUNCH.

From what abysses of the unfathom'd sea Turnest thou up, Great Serpent, now and then, If we may venture to believe in thee, And affidavits of sea-faring men?

What whirlpool gulf to thee affords a home! Amid the unknown depths where dost thou dwell? If—like the mermaid, with her glass and comb— Thou art not what the vulgar call a Sell.

Art thou, indeed, a serpent and no sham? Or, if no serpent, a prodigious eel, An entity, though modified by flam, A basking shark, or monstrous kind of seal?

I'll think that thou a true Ophidian art; I can not say a reptile of the deep, Because thou dost not play a reptile's part; Thou swimmest, it appears, and dost not creep.

The Captain was not WALKER but M'QUHAE, I'll trust, by whom thou some time since wast seen And him who says he saw thee t'other day, I will not bid address the corps marine.

Sea-Serpent, art thou venomous or not? What sort of snake may be thy class and style? That of Mud-Python, by APOLLO shot, And mentioned—rather often—by CARLYLE?

Or, art thou but a serpent of the mind? Doubts, though subdued, will oft recur again— A serpent of the visionary kind, Proceeding from the grog-oppressed brain?

Art thou a giant adder, or huge asp, And hast thou got a rattle at thy tail? If of the Boa species, couldst thou clasp Within thy fold, and suffocate, a whale?

How long art thou?—Some sixty feet, they say, And more—but how much more they do not know: I fancy thou couldst reach across a bay From head to head, a dozen miles or so.

Scales hast thou got, of course—but what's thy weight? On either side 'tis said thou hast a fin, A crest, too, on thy neck, deponents state, A saw-shaped ridge of flabby, dabby skin.

If I could clutch thee—in a giant's grip— Could I retain thee in that grasp sublime? Wouldst thou not quickly through my fingers slip, Being all over glazed with fishy slime?

Hast thou a forked tongue—and dost thou hiss If ever thou art bored with Ocean's play? And is it the correct hypothesis That thou of gills or lungs dost breathe by way?

What spines, or spikes, or claws, or nails, or fin, Or paddle, Ocean-Serpent, dost thou bear? What kind of teeth show'st thou when thou dost grin?— A set that probably would make one stare.

What is thy diet? Canst thou gulp a shoal Of herrings? Or hast thou the gorge and room To bolt fat porpoises and dolphins, whole, By dozens, e'en as oysters we consume?

Art thou alone, thou serpent, on the brine, The sole surviving member of thy race? Is there no brother, sister, wife, of thine, But thou alone, afloat on Ocean's face?

If such a calculation may be made, Thine age at what a figure may we take? When first the granite mountain-stones were laid, Wast thou not present there and then, old Snake?

What fossil Saurians in thy time have been? How many Mammoths crumbled into mold? What geologic periods hast thou seen, Long as the tail thou doubtless canst unfold?

As a dead whale, but as a whale, though dead, Thy floating bulk a British crew did strike; And, so far, none will question what they said, That thou unto a whale wast very like.

A flock of birds a record, rather loose, Describes as hovering o'er thy lengthy hull; Among them, doubtless, there was many a Goose, And also several of the genus Gull.

THE FEAST OF VEGETABLES, AND THE FLOW OF WATER. PUNCH.

New Year comes,—so let's be jolly; On the board the Turnip smokes, While we sit beneath, the holly, Eating Greens and passing jokes

How the Cauliflower is steaming, Sweetest flower that ever blows. See, good old Sir Kidney, beaming, Shows his jovial famed red nose.

Here behold the reign of Plenty,— Help the Carrots, hand the Kail; Roots how nice, and herbs how dainty, Well washed down with ADAM'S Ale!

Feed your fill,—untasted only Let the fragrant onion go; Or, amid the revels lonely, Go not nigh the mistletoe!