Daily Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1860-1862, 1861-03-31
For the Daily Patriot.
ssThe UnIoyed One.o
uGyAsHrSGroS BRICKS.

On sheet Of letter paper which we have Just writ
ten down to halfream Of the article, is the follow
ing sad Confession written in small delicate hand in
ssWith heart formed for love- am chained TO a
being who cannot appreciate the iment and in
distant cline mean 10 seek the happiness denied me
1t wouldn't surprise much if some gentleman re-
siding in the vicinity Of paper mill has lost his wife,
Daily Patriot
Unhappy woman may breathe the hope,
In language kindly, though it may be rough,
You're not in fact determined to eIope,
And really quit your husband sure enoughf
could not blame you though, if it be true
That he don't love you as q husband should
To be content and all the loving do
I don't see how a high toned woman could.
But for the heart-ache, such as that Of yours,
Opponents are MT the true Cephalic Pills;
They are dose that very seldom cures
In fact, which cures less often than it kills.
Try the true balm, the Wizard Oil Of Hope,
The suIest cure for almost every grief;
You will have swallowed, if you should elope,
A costly nostrum that gives no relief.
Or try Contentment, LIES AmbrosiaI Oil:
Twill make the wheels Of Time uncreakng pass,
And call up blossoms from the hearts dry soil,
anu Dil cares eAplOOe feHptI
Try one or all-each has been often tried,
And never failed to bid the heart rejoice;
But there they are, my stock Of oreide-
You pay your dollar, and can take your choice.
knew a husband once, who, like to yours,
Could not his wife's fond love appreciate,
And made her wear the plainest home-spun clothes,
Begrudging even the toast and tea she ate
In fact he used her worse than any dog,
Binding her down TO broom and tub and mop;
And OF his good things, such as beer and grOg,
I'm told he seldom offered her a dropl
She was his Iaundress chambermaid, and cook,
On whom to turn his angry passions loose;
And if she CHANGED to wear a weary look,
Asapt as not he'd cut up like the deuce
His greatest weakness was for NewsOm's Best,
With which he would no weaker liquid mix
And hence, as you've doubt already guessed,
He always had his hat brimfull Of bricks.
fair young creature was his wife; her eyes
We're 'sgentIe as the soft eyes of doys,''
And always freighted with untold supplies
OF LIES divinest charm, unselhsh love.
used to think used to think sometimes
If she had come to share my hopes and fears,
I'd sooner sought the path to hOIier climes,
Lured by the spell Of those soft eyes Of hers.
Those dreamy eyes-their beauty haunts me yeti
Twin stars that waned from out my heaven too
fastl
But though Ills long since on my path they set,
Their beams still light the hill tops of the PastI
To him they were than ether eyes no more;
To me their light was loves ethereal beam
The light that never was on sea or shore,
The conservation and the poets dream.
Those two last lines belong to some one else,
Which in my reading have somewhere seen;
They form rhyme that in mine sweety melts,
Though don't know exactly what they mean.
But that's merit; for, for instance, there's
The rhymes that come from Mrs. Browning's
hand,
Which, like the Chaldean's fortune-bOok of stars,
The more you read, the less you understand)
Ny dreams of marriage all had gone TO wreck
Nor have they yet come back from out the sea-
Yet OFT wished he'd break his worthless neck,
And leave his wife parting gift to me
But he lived On-in fact he's living still;
Your real mean men seldom perish young;
a natural death the Fates withhold until
They lose al chance to see the rascals hung.
/ never saw her, patient, though bereft
Of every joy that makes life pleasant pass,
Without a wish to hit out with my left,
And send the mean and heartlsss dog 10 grass.
I'd oft 4 mind TO ask her TO elope,
And try to find some little peace in life;
But was at that time hard up for soap
Too poor by half to feed the scoundrel's WIFE
And so had to stand, hand-tied and mute,
And see the gentle, meekeyed martyr bear
The wrongs inflicted by the cruel brute,
And struggle on beneath her load Of care.
Had been rich, there would have been change;
Had been strong, there would have been a row;
But fortune then was far beyond my range,
And lighting then not my forte as now.
They went to Texas fifteen years ago,
Where he's engaged in raising sheep, or was,
And now may treat her kindlier than before,
But I'm not much inclined to think he does.
I've never married, just because feared
might become too fond of NewsOm's Best,
And having got my brain with liquor stirred,
Go home and lick the partner of my breast.
Nashville, March %, 1861.