Clearfield Republican. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1851-1937, 1865-05-17
Original &lottrp.
THE SMUT-MOSHEEN.v
Dr Q, o. CORNELIUS FIrz.

When asked this mosheen" closely to in
Well might the soul Of him who dares review
Turn sadly back and bid the world adieu.
AAolsh his pen might win tho jowelled prize
That gistters brightly in tho distant shade,
iho he m'Stt all its mysteries analyEe,
Ill every error and each truth be weighed
let Toes tho pen encopntors in each line
peep phrases pointless. or some dark design
Perhaps it were those men ' no labored long,
To thrustb virtue from the Clearfeld stage
70 plant the Upas her green wales among,
And choke the prospects of her tender age,
who to embitter life and blast the scene,
Their talents joined, and built the /" smut
mosheen."
\ Perhaps 'twcre zen who feared no mortal foes
Who knew not when the world would geek
d change;
n Who tho't that nature ne'er would need repose
Nor tire in struggling Ger barren range,
That wrought this wondrous work Of useful
art,
To heal the weakness of the public heart.
And when this mighty plan was well matured,
And promised harvest dcckcd the mental field ;
No d'Ekening cloud young Fancy's" brow OBJ
scured,
Nor hidcous dreams a coming doom reveale ;
But every billOw Of the future came
With cheering fayors from the shores of fame.
Each day the 'Bucher' armed with wondrous wit,
Poured forth amusement frem his boundless
store
Zach passing week graver person writ
rich abundance of instruc tive lore,
That like the magic touch of Vesper's ray,
DiSDelS the gloom which shrouds
day
And from the hills the wandering swain surveys,
The kindling tcrrOrs Of this "household god, :"
Till horrid visions haunt bis startled gaze.
And fa4cies scOurge him with an unseen rod /;
Till countless tokens OF 'scqueItial pain.
Breathe dark misgiyings to his 'wildered
brain.
| Possessing skill which guides the hands of few,
4 And leads still fewer where they find success
4 TIE Bucher" run il when its works were now,
Til men mstcok it for Printing Press,
This error, which had many duped before,
Rose simply from the name it bOre.)
IN size and shape, alone, it doth appear,
To win the title of printing sheet.
4 Aught else portended to the name, fear,
Are weak excuses for counterfeit.
'Tis like the fruit which seems the taste to
win,
Fair to the eye, yet nauseous ane within.
Tho OF its pages thro' grim want looked lean,
n And starving purses asked for aims in vain;
Tho meaere famine sta,kod amid the sconc,
Yet it survived each hazardous campaign,
That launtod hearts which ku ueW not when
to fear
A paper bullet, nor q party sncer.
on frghtfu taics Of ghosts and wild romance
On which the public had been choked before
And Celtic Paddy leaguol with German Hans,
WHO suuander logic on a foreign shore ..
Found marked attention at tho Duchefs
hand.
Yet Mother Moro was ever on demand,
Long she had sunbered in a calm repose-
Disturbed by ma ught except the hunters shout,
Unskied to see through many hidden woe'' =.
TIL 'Buchsr' flchel her boarded saur- kraut
To purge his journal of some serious i'll,
iHe prooti.cd pLy,ic ,ojh astounding 'kia)
But he is base whose heart would cen refuse
To grant each worth to whom 1t doth belong );
nat which hath merit should receive its due,
And we, with holding. would commit wrong
But if these merits lead to evils side,
II bo not we who must the fault abide.
The smut -noshen,' that marvellous work Of
man,
Which Sits the dirt that soils the farmer :
grains.
Here merit notes that its peculiar plan
Throws of the grain, whilst it the smut retains
Thus giving worth to them whom worth
most use,
Whilst coying its cases with the dull refuse
.
Bu, many years fraught with events have passed
Since Aspiration wrought this grand 'mosheen;
Huge waves Of time have rolled away, and cast
A dismal shade upon the public mieni
sorrows and joys have chased each otherb by
Dark clouds have swept across the placid
sky.
| Alas my muse shrinks from the painful work
And sadness riots thrn' the vital fire;
The ghastly spsctres of slain virtue Turk
Around my vision, in their pale attire,
Like martyrs scOurged by prosecutions rod
To yield existence to the "household god"
Deep gloom ensh rouds its eountenance like pail
And pensive murmurs chime funeral knsll
"WEALrH AND ISrELLIGEScE," fore doomed ia
fall,
Have pealed the tocsin Of their last farewell
And thus the patrons Of tho "smut- mosheen
Have gone to sleep in " Letho's dark racine,
No sound can wake thom from the sleep of death
No power can animation ro-inspirs-
Like flowers faded in autumnal breath
Like fallen leaves they've sought the fdnera!
pyre.
Their fame monument TO Folly stands,
Carved and erected by fanatic hands.
In moments darkoned by the gathering storm,
Clear sighted Bucher" quit the wreck, anC
now
The blasted remnants OF this huge reform
Observation-Disclosures, through "Bucher'
Row -
1t helpless lies, whilst dangerous tides sur
round
Ahapless victim to destruction bound.
EPITAPH.
Beneath this marble, rests the mighty deal.
,,frsm tolls am'ds the ceascless human tide
who wooed by virtue--to Intelligence wed,
And slumber3 now aside his death chilled
bride;
He's dead, bu. lives Robes Of immomOria
green
hnwrap the mem'ries Of the 'sgCr-xosHEES.