Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1861-12-25

The following excellent poem, entitled
:. The Brier- Wood pipe" is from the pen Of
Mr.. Charles Dawson Shanly, the translator
ofCouret's . Life in the DESERT recently
published by Mason Brothers. Sir. Shanly
is one of our best magazineists, and has con
tributed articles to the 50 Atlantic Monthly"
Z. Vanity Fair" the . Home Journal" &c
The present poem originally appeared in
.' Vanity Fair."-
Al bully for me, again, when my turn for
picket is over,
Ard now for a smoke, as I lie, with the
moonlight. out in the clover.
NJ pipe. its only q knot from The root of
the brier-w0od tree,
But It turns my heart to the no-thward-
Harry gave it to me.
A1I l am but rough, at best, bred up to
the rOW and the riot
B., a sOftness comes over my heart, when
all are asleep and quiet.
Tor. many 4 time, in the night, strange
things appear to my eye
a the breath Ct my brier>wool pipe sails
up between me aud the sky.
Last night a beautiful spirit arose with the
waispins smoke;
@. 7 shook. but my heart felt good, as it
spread out its hands and spoke,
Saying: i am the soul of the brier; we
grew at the root Of tree
Where lovers would come in the morning
ever but two, together;
When the flowers were fun in their blow.
the birds in their song and feather.
Where the lovers would come in the noon
time. lOitering-neyer but two.
Looking in each others cEcs, like the pig
cons that kiss coo.
md Q the honeyed words that came when
tle lips were parted,
and the passion that glowed in eyes, and
the lighting looks that darteil
Enough Love dwells in the pipe-s0 ever il
Clows with fire
I au the soul Of the blush, and the spirits
e-.l me SWEET BEIER.7
That's wha5 the brier-woCl said, as nigh as
my tongue can tell.
huL the words went straight 10 my heart,
like the stroke Of q fire bell!
r. night / lie in the clover, watching thC
bI0ss5my smoke;
l'I glad the boys are asleep, for I amt in q
humor to IKE.
BE in the hefty clover: between me and
The moon
Tie smoke from my pipe arises; my heart
VIII he quiet, soon.
E- thoughts are back IN the city, In
everything I've ben;
aear the bell from the tower, I run witt
The swift machine.
I sec the rel shirts c-owding around tht
engine house door.
The lJreman's hail through the trumpet
comes with hollow rear.
The reel IN &c Hlg-o-- dance-house, tn
r5Tv III the beer saloon,
TL-.e I put in my Hicks ut Biz Paul, col
between me AMI th7 moon.
Il-,r the drum anl bug,e, the tramp o
c5ws-ln boots.
=. are marching on our muscle, the ii-
Z0uave recruits
White hanJkerchiefs w-ra before mc-G
but the sight is pretty
or lha white marble steps, Gs we rnarchc
through the heart Of the city.
bright eyes and clasP-ng arms, and lips tia
bill US good hap;
an the splendid lady tha- gave ne IL
HaveIocll for my cap.
o up from my pipe-clgud rises bctwee
me and the moon,
beautiful whi.e,robel lady; my hca-
viii be quiet soon.
I.- l9veIy golden~Laired lady even
#-eala i see.
-a the snovowhite Ulvclock-bu
w..t does she care for me
l--6 a- my Er.nE features mountains %,
tween Us stand
a..l MY sIedge hammer knuckles, 81
w.ll her iewclleG hand.
EVLal care [ 2-the day that's dawuin
may see me. when all is over,
with the red stream of my life blood stain
Ing the lofty clover.
La-E. tie rcveille sounding out on Il
morning air
Devils arc we for tin battle-y..u there
angels there
ks me, again. S,rsci 5yjer, the touch
your lip to mine
B--aEs back the white robed lady with ha