Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1843-02-03
From Godey's Ladys Book for Feb.
BACHELOR BOB'S DISCOVERY.
BY N. P. WILLIS
"Sad were the lays of merry days,
And sweet the songs of Sadness"

Sad were the lays OF merry days.
And sweet the songs Of Sadness"
"CoME 70 said bachelor Bob, as he htched his
chair closer to the table, "quite alone, half.past
twelve, and two tumblers of toddy for heart.
openers. what say you to little friendly inqui-
ston into your mortal felicity! You were the
gayest man of my acquaintance ten years ago
you are the gravest now Yet you swear by
your Lares and Penates, that, Cup to the lips as
you see in care and trouble,) you never were
so happy as in these latter days. Do you swear
this to me from way you have Of hanging
out trap for the world, or are you under little
innocent delusion!'
Bob's hobby is the theory of happiness
Riches and poverty, matrimony and cebacy,
youth and age, objects of contemplation TO
Bob solely with reference to their comparative
capacity for bliss. He speculates and talks
about little else, indeed, and his intercourse
with his friends seems to have no other end or
aim than to collect evidence as to their happi- |
ness and its causes On this occasion he was
addressing friend of mine, Smith, who had
been gay man in his youth, "a merry man,
truth to say, for he was in perpetual breeze of
high spirits,) but who had married, and fallen
behnd-hand in his worldly affairs, and SO grown
care-worn and thoughtful. Smith was rather
poet, in quiet way, though he only used po-
etry as sort of longer plummet when his
for the specimens OF his making which
am about to give, as well as for the conversation
which brought them to light.
"Whv," said smith, "you have stated d.
lemma with two such inevitable horns that ar
gument would scarcely help me out Of it. Let
me see, what proof can give you that am
happier man than l used to be, spite of my
chap. fallen visage ~
Smith unused moment, and reaching over to
a desk near his elbow, drew from its private
+ drawer a book with locked covers. 1t was
we l-filled manuscript volume, and seemed
collection of prose and verse intermixed. The
last page was still covered with blottng paper,
and seemed recently written.
81 am poet" said Smith, colorng Slightly,
{ "but it has been habit of mine, ever since my
callow days. to record in verse all feelings that
a were 10 warm for prose sometimes in the FASH
ion of soliloquy, (scripta rerba,) sometimes in
verses to the danes or damsel to whom was
indebted for my ignition. Let me see, Bob /! we
met in Florence Think"
n For the first time abroad, yes ~
:. "Well, perhaps that was the gayest time /;
i certainly do not remember to have been any
). where more gay or reckless. Florence, 1882,
n um-here are some lines written that summer
4 do you remember the beautiful Irish widow you
saw at one of the casino balls! addressed to
|. her. flirt that she was But she began all her
e frtations with talking of her sorrows, and if
!. she tried you on, at all"
+. "She didn't" interrupted Bob.
e "Well, if she had, you would have been
/. humbugged with her tender melancholy, as
|. was. Here are the verses, and if ever turn
r ed out my lining TO the moon,' they are true to
s my inner soul in those days of frolic Read
j. these, and then turn to the last page and you
t. will find as true "a daguerreotype of the inner
e light of my moping days, written only yester.
- day."
70 IT'S late-San Marc is beating three
d, As look forth upon the night;
G The stars are shining TRANQUILITY
;, And heaven is full of silver light;
80 The air blows freshly on my brow
10 Yet why should be waking now
# I've listened, lady, to thy tone,
Till in my ear it will not die;
=, I've felt for sorrows not my own,
Till now cannot put them by;
And those sad words and thoughts of thine
a Have breathed their sadness into mine.
e IT'S long-though reckoned not by years
Since, with affections chilled and shocked,
) dried a boys imprisoned tears,
IN And from the world my feelings locked
Il The work of but one bitter day,
Oh In which were crowded years Of pain;
tn And then was gay, again,
"A And thought should be, for aye
as The world lay open wide and bright
And became its ghtest minion,
dt And flew the wordlings giddy hight
Mt With reckless and impetuous pnion-
. Llfe's tide with me, had turned from shore
IL Ere yet my summers told score.
- And years have passed, and have seemed
IL Happy to every eye but thine,
e. And they whom most loved have deemed
=, There was no lighter heart than mine
IA And save when some wild passion tone
to OF music reached the sleeping nerve,
. Or when, in illness and and alone,
- My spirit from its bent would swerve,
"a My heart tcds light my thoughts ,cere free,
/ u0s the thing seemed TO be.
@. came to this bright land, and here,
Where had thought to nerve my wings
~ To soar to a more lofty sphere
ed And train myself for sterner things
-, The land where had thought to find
o. No spell but beauty breathed in Stone
- To learn ldolatrles OF mind,
:, And leave the heart to sumber on
:" Here find one whose voice awakes
The sad, dumb angel of my breast;
And, as the long, long silence breaks
OF a strong inward lip suppressed
ID II seems to me as If a madness
# Had been upon my brain Away
As II 'twere frenzy 10 be gay
'c And life were only sweet in sadness
e, Words from my lips tonight have come
m That have for years been sealed and dumb.
ed II was but yesterday we met,
~ We part tomorrow. ! would fain
=. With thy departing voice forget
III Its low, deep tone, and seal again
he My feelings from the light of day
% To be tomorrow only gay!
~ But days will pass and nights will creep,
ne And shall hear that voice of sadness
With Dreams now untouched by Sleep
And spirits out Of tune with gladness;
n And time must wear, and fame spur on.
r. Before that victory is re-won!
to And so farewell would not be
IT., Forgotten by the only heart
To which my own breathes calm and free,
And let us not as strangers part!
And we shall meet again, perhaps,
nc More gay than we're parting now
% For time has, in it's briefest lapse
III A something which clears up the brow.
r. And makes the spirits calm and bright
IL And now to my sad dreams! Good night!
lis "What precious hypocrite you were for thu
he merrest dog in Florence !" reclaimed Bob, al
nd he laid the book open on its back after reading
8. these lines. You feel that way creaa JudPas
- But there are some other poetical lies here
7 what do you mean by I'VE met but yesterday
III and we part Tomorrow when know yon dang
i lad after that widow a whole season at The
he Baths!"