Daily Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1860-1862, 1860-11-29
For the Daily Patriot.
Sparkling Saturday Night with a Dirty
shirt en-.
BT O. T. B. KCSI.

o. Z. B. Kusr-
Have you ever known the silent charms of woman,
And fel; the witchery of e melting black eye?
Has it e'er persuaded yoa, all that's human
Is a dream Of love, Of heaven and poetry
There's little imp Turk ng a wreath CT smiles,
Who, Bob Roy Ike, way lIys transporting hours,
And sells dew from the heart Fiih mschievous wies,
Like rosy fingered morn stealing from iowsrs-
Mark the little devil he is I,Wless rogue,
Iw,rn ye LIST not TO the syTea song he sings;
He would make you believe, heartless dog,
The rGstling calico IS angel wings
The pages Of Hfe's book are with thrilling stories
filled,
OF his pilferings, thelts, robber-es, and 50 on;
Here's honeyed wisdom from experience distilled,
Entitled Sparkling Saturday night with dirty shirt
on"
There lived, told, in elm -cmbowered homo,
thousand miles from here, perhaps not far,
Where moon-eyed poets for air wont roam,
grim all the skies no lovler star
She fair as Rae heI, L bans veiy daughter,
Whom, the Scripture tells. Jacob wooed and won,
Or to be more poetic, perhaps ought to
Say like Annie Laurie ''fairer than the shines
on"
sm with her beauty, my heart longed to see her;
Loves purpose formed, you neer change its
bent.
With so 90 swallow tail and bran new collar.
And gold tinted card, ~ went.
Imagine me there; say, did you ever
With good bill wait for the rise OF the curtain?
Or at a hotel when you thought the niger never
Would come? Thus 1 saited-witha dirty shirt on
Softly the door upon its rusty hinges creakng,-
Like rosy footed Mays hgHt and airy tread,
Ger the dewy fields morn's earliest breaking
Grace uly glides in the pert NJ af,resaid
I've read of bright-eyed Peri and angels in satin,
50 gracefully told of in SIoore's Laah Rhook;
I've seea stars, and flowers, and all that's vely in
Life-with the women in Gotcy's Lrdy's 30 k
sunshine broken into rills, splrkled in e5es
That shone through lashes, whose soft and je,ty
fringe
Chung their melting Iovelght, to mors opening
skies
Cling the hight shadows with softening tiOge.
Tresses black as midnight, and soft as evening,
Half concea ed, half disclosed, her checks dnplng
cherries,
Footracins smi es Showed strung pearls cleaning
GioriouzIy white u parenthesis OF berries
Sweeter tkan my boyhoOd's earliest dream Of love
Lovely piece Of music without jIring chord
4 bright CLEAN Of heaven from cloud-r # above;
Ifhvery peculiar, but spoke word
Ive read in the Scripture Of Daniel the den,
Where the 70 tri. lions WERE and in another book
Tfri,F int f.e I,r-SF,
Winch was perhaps equally as bad a hook.
dreamed one ght was out on the ocean,
When the storm ragged aud howlei, and hope was
ne;
But never felt 50 peculiar an emotion
As when spark that night with dirty shirt on.
T-stefIIly spice with womau's child sh hate,
Brill ant nonsense and witty noihngs fell
In br ght showers from lovely lips, whose fate,
am sad to say, it was never TO be till
OF fashions, hOunces, and flowers We talked
She talked sp ely OF he bonn Mss wore,
And of the young lady's hair who face chalked
so hideously at church the sunday befo.e.
Thus the merry hours fiuttered hcedessly by,
With mIry a s,nrk, smile and giggle, and then
From dress and bonnet to tn la t novel We'd fly,
Then back 10 smlrk, Smile and gggle again.
1 strug gIed hard and often, for wanted TO tell
How loved her wle alone tn re together;
But my welcomed speech eternally fell
Fat into some remark upon the weather.
'EWarm evening" said, 4 thought would meIt),
When, heaven my mistake, 1t shCckiug!-
In side pocket for a bandanna felt,
And drew out-a dirty cotton stocking
In dire confusion, fl=ttered and foundered,
But plunged deeper and deeper in despair,
For the little devil most innocenty wondered
II there was MT deceased rat some lcherei
Hours were passing, and talk began to hnguish
AT length both grew dull and she listless too
My heart swelling big with undelivered anguish
set to thinking what next should do
Yawning, said, Il believe 1 can yawn a mile
q thought it was wit, and would dispel our gloom,
When the imp, with most provoking smile,
Said; ''she thought 1t Just about that far home -
Well to conc,ude--yOu've dreamed OF heaven,
Perhaps when a boy OF christmas pudding too,
But sweeter far than dreams-tLl the clock struck
eleven
FRANKLIN, Nov, 1850.