The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1858-09-01

now soJonrnnng in our village. This we do with
out the knowledge of the writer, whose displeas-
use We risk for the sake of gratifying our readers
who will readily excuse any slight Irregularities
they may find, on the assurance that it is geuu-
Inc Improvisation, and agree with us, that such
talent as this exhibits, should be encouraged
BRooKLYN. N. Y, Aug. 5th, 1868.
Dear Frienl if |, considering these dull times,
Make up for want of news by writing rhymes.
lou, SHOWING tie my tcCokHess must excuse
Your humble servant, Or her jingle muse
lis raining just as hard as it can pour;
. for shinge roof big barn floor
Where could hear tie music of the rain
hich drums upon my muf1ed roof in vain,
ms viewing showers in f1ag-stone puddle,
Compared with country rain, Is hat q muddle.
But l II not murmur at the artful city,
learned moral from little ditty,
hat was writing one hot day this summer,
should have learned before, -'tisNever murmur
I'd just been wishing for fairy nand,
To bear me to some pleasant country land.
Where meath the trees, and round the playing
streams,
Ie'en could lay me down to pleasant deans
And gain the health that one long year of school.
Had rob'd me of and breathe the zephyrs COOL
Come car or steamboat, hack OF telegraph,
said, III seize the first that comes. Don't laue
The fairies were to pay for my migraton,)
l heard one coming, felt my empty purse
Then looked below-7here came long black
hedrse,
i seemed to beckon, as the carman does,
TO osk, if would ride--But refuse;
Then turning back seized my pen and wrote
What you will now forgive me If quote.
There goes hearse Thank God it /. not ne
hat it is carting out of town to-day.
love full well the country, but than he
Carried in that black cart i'd rather stay
In the hot city yet for many day.
Within that hearse there is II coffin red
Within that coffin, there is cold cold CLAW
There was working brain within that head,
The stream is stopped, It's frozen in its bed.
Within that breast there was beating heart
That beat through all its years the march of life ;
But now no more its quick'ning pulse. start
As it receives new impulse for the strife,
The conflict which is eveImore in life
That heart hath beaten its last funer,d knell
But yesterday, that form with strength was rife :
Put yesterday that corpse said l am well /"
To-day, that soul hath found its heaven or hell"
I'd read Childe Harold and had caught the strain.
The measure fitting seemed for funeral train.
And by the way. I'm getting very wise,
That is for one Of my disease and size.
I've hoped that cen for me there Is a chance,
Of bing cured of chronic ignorsncs)
Since school closed I've done naugbt but read
and write, g. t... =. ~
leaVe tne uisn-clotn, ana tne proom- stick fight.
In which have achieved my highest glory,
For those whose Names as yet, are less in story
Ny transient library consists Of books
Ofpoetry, Millions, Cowper's, Thompson's works.
Young, Beattie. Collins, Gray, and yet poem,
Which, If you have not read it with its proem,
Is ct in store fer you. Which, we some day
When you have finished your Aurora Leigh,
Wen read Tis "Festus." But my first attention
| Of all the works of which have made mention.
Is yet to Byron. how dear to me
| Are those sweet lines addressed to NJ L. G.
Initials which the learned linguist Jerry,
Translated, and transcribbled into Mary:
Which so excited all my nervous system,
With good desires, in some way to assist him,
That, had only been mesmerirer,
AS was yet "too young" said my adviser
would have put him in SO sound sleep,
That he would ne'er again awake to weep
| A change came DER the spirit of his dream,
He'd found another, worthier hi. theme
Those lines, which yet were safe within nv care,
Were writ for me, who's name he did not dare
Then to insert, and so he spelled it Mary.
Didn't we laugh But there, enough for Jerry.
This is the month of all the twelve, the wear,
That look forward to with dread and fear;
Each August tells me an. one year older,
Piles up year Of sins on each broad shou lder,
And ere my life, my work, is half begun,
l find my years have numbered twenty one.
For years now, have labored to gain-what2
Our bread, sometimes our butter, sonetimes not.
What's Glory 'Tis to win so great Q fame,
That, carve in marble but thy simpls name,
And whenthat marble crumbles all away,
The name yet stands and standing lives Tor aye.
| But in this glorious bread and butter STRIFE
Brave soldiers fight from birth, and lose their life
| We pass their unmarked grave where their name
| ends, I's.
| Saying this one left no money, or nc friends.
Such is my destined Glory. But hey -ho!
| I've lived these twenty years without beau,
| And that is something, which II writ in his'try
| I'm sure would be to all profound myst'ry,-
mean to those not blessed like thee and thine
By an acquaintance with the heroine.
| Bnt there is comfort yet for me in store,
| have lived twenty: may live twenty more
Unquestioned ears, beauless as ! have said,
| And be at forty a retired---old maid.
| A capital of single blessedness
| Which many dame would gladly now possess
Now truly, and I write this in whisper,
| And command you that you must not lisp a
| Word Of the subject which ] now propose:
\ ! condescend some times from rhyme to prose
think of writing novels, just for fun,
In fact had splendid one begun.
| The hei oine, a cunning little elf,
The very picture Of my humble self
1 The hero, Just the man, the beau ideal
| Which would have were this my story real.
lis eyes and hair-what will not say
Except that they were neither red, nor gray.
| But now to MAKE my hero pop the Questi0a,
Entirely baffed me, not one suggestion
OF all the many contrived to guess,
|
knew not how to learn, there was no chance
But just to wait for sOsc experience.
o spare me one ofyour Green Mountain besux
To teach me how my hero should propose.
And here paused, not to take breath, nor yet
To wait till should information get,
Concerning the dilemma which mention
But other duties claimed my attention.
Now resume, bear with me patiently
And soon the end promise you shall ses
You must be taking comfort, declare;
You have your husband, son and daughter thsr,
And ne one left behind for whom to care.
Say, don't you wart some one to pull your hal
As Uncle John did on his wedding tour?
All got there safe 'spose, and I'm quite sure,
You all were s0ta enough for church on Sunda,
And that to-day with you is no Blue Monday.
went, and wore my love ofa white bonnet,
And fnncied every eye in church upon il.
I"'spects Is wicked" but if you had worn it
With better grace fear you'd not have borne
There is no news but gold, and tsleg.
of which you hear more talk than by half.
The wire Is clear across o sint IL funny,
How much the men can do with wit and money
Complain no more Of ladies' crinoline,
man, since thou hast run so long line,
And hooped the countries old and new togethe
In spite Of adverse winds and tide and weather..
All charged with lightning which was once tci riff
Straight from New foundland o'er to yon Pacih
Nor stopping at the golden bedded Frazer,
On through Aleutia, to the shores Of Asia, H
This hoop of steel shall wend its way to lrelan
Which hencsforth we may designate as Wirelan
| n man fcr0iva me for this Wick ed ofnRn