Morning herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1837-1840, 1840-11-19
From Lady Byron, and other Pssns OF
Alexander
A'Donald Cfarke1

Ienry William Ogden, Lieut.. Commandment
Brazus.
How many gans does your Frgate carry,
Ny gentle, and my gallant Harry
Ere sroadside-oer the girl, mean TO marry,
Wake her-or tho witch will tarry
Till my head is white, as the foam before YOU,
When wintry winds are wraekng DER you
Have you the lines, Aashd around you,
(ren years ago. when first found you.
And We drank glass OF Wiilard's today,
To the delicate health of - most every BODY,
Ehclosed in flesh warm, white and tender)
bly, CountTy's young, and dear Defender
You remember the walk we took together
On the Battery, in Springs pale moonlight weather.
When a man o. war, moored in the blue North River,
with moonbeams round her all a.shiver)
Caught your gaze, ss said the Nation
Would lift you, yet, to her loitiest station
Your is rising bright, and brighter,
Your unilinching Frgate sa soul to night her.
For, should the clouds Of battle thicker,
John Bull would get bloody licking,
Look white and red, as the colours, streaming
AT your mizzen-top, ia the sunrise, cleaning
You remember you took me to your bed room,
Where butted my nose (ior had not head room)
And you gave me the works Of poor Lord Byron,
Whose name is cold your rusty iron,
And wrote our names on its first two pages,
10 be Kiss d By the Lips, al fiturc Ages
Dear Ogden, I shall always remember
When my heart is chill, as a white December,
How you were the fTa OF our proud Gentry
To give me- in our ranks, welcome entry,
And how my eyes in tears, were swimming
When warm'd in the blush Of the loveliest women.
wish you !cre, my dear kind fellow,
To go to Miss -, and boldly tell her,
Ifshe means TO turn her nose up at me,
And not With her soft white fingers pat me,
To do ii at once, and no more worry
chap, who is willing to wed in hurry
| wish your Frigste under her window,
With the lighted match, and the smoking finder,
And you'd ram down wad and powder,
AnA6re broadsde loud-aye-louder
Than when old Wellington slung his thunder,
To split Napoleon's thrones, asupder.
What fuss, great Folks, are always making
When a poor DEVILS soul is aching
Old Maids wouldn't be half plenty
(They might all be kiss'd true blue, at 2e)
Ifthey didn't have such airs about it
They know they can't, well, do withoutt
For 20 years have been trying
To set some sweet girls heart, a-erying,
But the tide against me-who could stem it
From the striking hour, that dear Tom E.,
knockd me, far from glorious Lady
Who, even now, makes my nerves unsteady,
Whenever her Queenly face approaches,
To shame the fairsst, in our coaches.
But, if cannot get Miss -
I'll seek the girl the lap dog barks on
Offsiry form, and child.liks features,
The loveliest of our lovely creatures,
God help mellow the child bewitches,
With her soft blue eyes, and boted riches
O,she look'd as sweet as sugar,
The day saw her with young C
Iwoader II the chap will get her,
think she couldn't do, much better,
Unless-she sent her smiling Darby,
With q delicate note to-Donald Clarkey.
For the note sent to-hem--(i t chokes me,
Whenever think, how she can hoax mel
She has not dsgnd, as yet to notice
Tho I'll be asyoung az II. q. Otis,
Who's the finest old gent, in Boston,
Tho 80 years the world, he's tost on.
half suspected that Fate designs me,
Of Miss - soul resigns mel
For tho sweet child, with the dove-likc features,
The most elegant, Of our Earthly creatures,
For as I. on the 9th, the Church was leaving,
II set my heart, and hopes, a'hesving,
When, by chance, our arms were grazing,
And her soft blue eyes, were, moment, blazing.
As tho that delicate touch had thrilld her,
And with new thoughts and feelings, fll'd her
And as, yesterday, noon, passed her,
And look OF respectful fondness cast her,
The blood from her heart, to her brow was gushing
God help me-what delicious blushng.
Wouldat be strange, dear Ogden,
u, after having been deeply, bogdin
The mre of many Love disaster,
With Miss E and Miss c..
My star should clear of froa its weeping,
And !, at last, be sw eetly sleeping
With my pale, and pensve lace on
The breast Of the grand child III NJ. -
ia make my day extremely sunny
In the blaze Of her modesty, and money
The beauty, of brow that's blushing,
The omnipotence, Of downcsst eye,
When the melted heart, to the face, Is gushing,
Tells Of Love, too pure, TO die
And o, IL she-the shutdown Beauty
The dearest Of all my worshipd women,
Will not do woman's duty,
Sy day shall NOT 60 down, all dimnng,
But will smile upon the younger,
And glui Affections delicate hunger.
November 10th, 1910.