Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1859-01-06
THE CARRIERS ADDRESS,

TO THE
PATRONS OF THE FITNESS
JANUARY /, 1859.
Hail !! happy New Year, patrons all,
We come again to greet you.
AS promised just one year ago,
We're here again to meet you.
Another year its course has run,
Of seasons mild or dreary;
New beings springing on the stage,
Old beings growing weary.
Sad changes wrought in every house,
Full many home-wreath broken;
In Many heart an aching void
Filled only by deaths token.
Deep mourning hangs DER many heart,
Which last year beat so gaily,
For friends now dead but we may look
For reunion daily.
Disease has swept upon the breeze
And filled with fear and trembling
Our happy hills, our pleasant wales,
A charnal land resembling.
The tiny babe, the stalwart man,
The old, from life retiring
All feel the hand Of death alike,
Yet none his sting desiring
The farmer too has met with loss
His crops so short and falling
But then true wisdom cheers him on
From mourning or bewaiiing.
For while one finds his garner short
Another has abundance,
And thus his neighbor can supply
Who has not this redundance
Then there is cause for each and all
TO raise their voice in praises,
To God who rules the universe
And leads through life's dark mazcs.
Our land at large shares blessings rare,
And peace still hovers Ger us;
Oh may the past but be type
Of this year now before us.
The past was prolific year
Of wonder and of science,
Bold men of skill spread out their hands
And bid the seas defiance.
They wrought cable long and fair
To bind two worlds together;
But all vain man, twas not enough,
You'll have to try another
While men huzzaed and split their Threats,
In praise of Cyrus Field,
The fishes of the mighty deep
Proclaimed-"Vain man must YIELD"
-.HuzzssI CrIeu rIan, our cable WORKS,
Our Cyrus surely spoke ;"
The fishes cry, "your bonfres and
Your cable ends in smoke"
And thus it is-man speculates
In science as in goods,
Forgetting to withhold his shouts
Till safe without the woods.
zMortara's child may shake the world
And put old Europe boiling, -
But we have quite enough to do
To keep our o,cn from spelling.
Too much already has been made
Of every boby's cry;
But I'll confne myself to men,
Who must be three feet high.
No laughing now, kind friend of mine,
Because I am not higher.
I've got the grit which makes me fit
For any Knights esquire.
Who rises with the lark, I wot,
And trips round with light caper,
To serve you every Thursday morn
With your county paper.
And when the paper S served to all
n Who flies back to his stick, sir,
And works all day, cen in the night,
With motion strong and quick, sir;
And all to serve you with the news,
] Fresh, speedily and fervant,
Yes, who kind friend, think well just now,
'Tis I-your humble servant.
The cry is heard all round our town:
sHard times and little money"
But when we look men in the face
We think this cry seems funny.
just put your hand deep in your purse
Let wrist and arm both .tollo,o,
q And make the CARRIER smile with joy
By giving him dollar.
"Too much" you say, pray think awhile,
And read Alright our rhymes, sir,
Then look the CARRIER in the face,
u And give at least ten dimes, sir.