New-York daily tribune., 1842-07-30
From Bi,ckwood iOr July
LINES UPON LETTERS.
sY r siNNoNs.

YB sNNoSs.
in A.. laa hour, ~ he opened note which h Servan
agh, 70 him. be .ad. In odd haush rr'se' ne -
q ''''''' y" -''''''' " iBosvclr. life Of Johnson.
YEs-'miA the usutiorablc dread ,
With which both Flesh and SPirit shrinA' P
When the stern Angel of the Dcad
Impsls u, to the Fsturc's brink
While al j. hurry. doubt. di'may
Life, footing crumbling fast away
And .ins. long silent. DARK and icH'
Across the n,etuoty Nituus Nc" So
Tvcn then that Sage's transient ,housht
some panes ~ least ~" son. can save,
For be what may our awful !9'' S~a'~
No Letter. reach us in the grave.
Vo,,ers from Home--we re spared at Last
longing. lingering watch 10 keep,
And when ,h expected Post Is past
And brings them not, TO shrink and weep
And count how many hours remain
BEFORE rha, Post comes round again:
Or. biucfer still to break tie 'eal',
Sick for tho love no line reveals,
Striving 10 wrc.t cold Duty's words
To hcart-born tenderness snd truih'
As If existence -hattered chords
Gould Weld the music Of our youth
4 Patrons Letters; never more
10 feel them mock our honest rride
With all the bard denounced ot yole-
The curse in suing long to bide.
Never again to know Ia intense
And fcverish anguish of suspense
When the cool, final. bret reply
As vet unopened. meets the eve
On. moment nore-aud ali we dread
Nav whclm US like drowning waye
Our doorn-hope health, and fortune led
To drift in darkness TO the grave
No Letter. there not even the small
R,se..ccnied one that dared not come
Bv dav. but stole at evening TAN
When every tell-tale breeze was dumD,
Asking the souls dark gates of sin
To let the Wr,ers image m.
How. when that tiny billet came.
Our breath heaycd thick, our blood grew haine'
As swift We started 10 assume
Tn, mufIling cloak md secret knife,
And sIjded down tke glcn's long gloom,
Though Danger dosgcd our life
No Letters in the Grave. We re free
From Friendships slnooth illusions aere,
From Him in whose fidelity
A. in d eWel-caskct rare,
The hear, was wont in every shock
H.. secret thoughts. Ike gems, TO lock-
The supple kuave who, when diSmay
And outcrv L,wlcd around our way,
And most our errors asked "A guide,
Was then himself the first to tiy,
And leave Us, plundercd. to the wide
Rcmor,sloss tempest thund'rng by.
The Grave when once that goal Is won,
We lesser agsues adieH
The daily Letter from the dun
The monthly admoniiion too,
From Hood or North, regcettinG much
Our pen grow. palsied in it, touch,
Or begging hcncefor,h to decline
Our famous things IN Dickens ; llne
Their ign il DER, those Kings OF men,
True sons Of Tonson and of Cave
No briei cp.tlcs need We pen
Subscribed LnpraaSuS TN The uraVe'
And Thou-immortal Moralist -
To whom my idlcsse owes this rhyme
Though unto thee no more exist
The clouds. tear-fraueht, of earthly time,
Oh, mid Il the prate OF modern fools,
Whose ervious spite 10y pigmy rules
Would dar' Thy mighty mind to span
And underiaie its giant plan,
Co.ldst thou but mark what strength 10 bear,
What tameless power what purpose brsve,
Some tcw still learn from thy career,
'Twould .oothe thee. even beyond the grave
" am Sir yours. Imprmsio'. SANL. JoH>soN' the eH-
sivc Signature to OF johnson, letters 'dnrS ms ear