To My Two-Wheeled Steed. You are not a ‘ Bissikle,’ rhyming with ‘physical,’ Whizzical whirligig queer— O Horse ! without visible legs, which we quizzical Hear of this year with the ear. Nor, are you ‘ By-siggle, not though a nice iggle Girl that I know accents ‘ Bi’— Rhymes it with ‘icicle.’ I in surprise giggle, Hearing this here with the ‘i.’ No ; nor yet ‘ Byze-i-cal.’ Bless your poor ‘i’s !’ I call This worse than either or each ; A most inadvisable egotistiz-ical Liberty (like this) with speech. Trusty two-wheeler, of wood and of steel or Iron good-tempered your frame’s— (That is, if the dealer employed an annealer) : Don’t let us call Bi-cycles names. You take but a little sweet oil for your victual— No hostler is fee’d for your feed ; And if you don’t fit ill, you cost but a tittle To stand me in-stead of a steed. Nor do you get tired, except ’tis desired If the rings of your wheels give way ; Though tirèd, un-tirèd—whenever required, O Horse ! you will never say Neigh !