MONS RUSSELIUS BIS PARTURIENS.

Mount Russell’s the monarch of mountains
(Mount Blanc sank long ago
To a London sight, with red and blue light,
In Albert Smith his show);
Though round his waist no forest’s braced,
No avalanche in his hand;
Though far from tall – his person’s small,
And the reverse of grand.

Yet of mountains that be the king is he,
And that I do maintain,
He hath had a fate ne’er mount had yet,
And none shall have again.
Some have heaved with the mirth of an earthquake’s birth,
Some have brought forth mice, we know;
But Mount Russell alone of mountains hath known
The weight of either throe!

For his the head, and his the hand,
That launched upon their way,
The Earthquake Bill of thirty-one,
And the Mouse Bill of to-day!

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