The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-07-01
THE SIEGE OF TROY.
mot from Advance Sheets of the tribune

Not from Advance Sheets of the Tribune
With great sweep of my pen-arm, l hurl
Troy and It's mighty siege bristIing and bub-
bling into the midst of Printing House Square.
Rattle and thunder, ye mighty presses, and
to consciousness the shades of departed heroes,
their ambrosial locks still spermy with the
Be satisfied and rejoice, Tribune, for am
here-here alone, ready to inform you first, OF
this whirliDg sphere, that Troy has fallen iii
Mighty Hector died ere the ligneous Pegasus
betrayed the magnanimous Trojans, and ad-
mitted the crafty Greeks TO the radiant recesses
OF the sacred city.
Hector died in my arms.
When his huge soul was about to burst against
the weeping stars, he said, George, you are
Then exploded the spirit of the already apo
theosiZed warrior; and the heavens shook like
a bowl of Jelly on Western steamboat, and all
nature heaved like Hyperborean sea.
Huzzahl you should have seen the dreadful
fight. Like the tempest-riven sky the fierce
foes rushed together. They ate each others
fiery hearts in the fierce contest as black worms
eat out the hearts OF fragrant roses in June.
They crawled mountains high upon each other
until the citadel was dwarfed' and writhed like
Laocoons struggling with million serpents,
It was dreadfull
1t was horriblell
It was like the description of Gettysburg in
the recent issue of the IIt6une!!!!
While all the plain crawled and groaned with
the desperate battle, and blood shot out from
myriads OF breasts, as red leaves In the autumn
Tn,shiy Aisx come. his huge Embossed shield
'6eIore him dark and frowning, as sable noun.
tain, his beard shivering with the eterniues Of
the hour.
Ajax saw me and spoke in voice OF thunder:
&c. A. T.-Weve got 'em. Minerva hurls her
divine helmet against the acorn; and Mars
drives the Trojans believing bellicosely beyond
the foaming Scamander. Andres Adteadt0t, lt's
all right Let's drink, George as we did Wnen
1 sought to listen to your poem In the Central
Park, and fell asleep over the sweetness OF its
A mighty biIlow bore Ajax from me, and
drove me upon Diomede's surglng host, fraoght
with slaughter, and yellow with the dust OF the
fYou here?S asked Diomede. "But knew
you would be. have read the New York papers
and seen what the lesser weeklies have SAID
about you. DO justice to this, George. lCs Dig
thing II give an exact translation from the
Athenian, which / spoke fuently from my
cradle), depend upon IL. The Fates are arlvlng
the enemy down into the Tartarus OF despair
the groves OF dreadful Dodona." q
Troy is burning. The city flames luridly, as
Il the sun had shot into every window, ana run
through and through the splendid streets IN
molten rivers of crimson and gold.
The IRE licks, and crawls, and winds ltseiI
born Of the throes of Nature, and crushing q
baPnometic-babtized sphere.
Walls totter.
Palaces crumble
Sewing machines blow up.
Women Shrek and drown their unprotected
9Hspring 10 prevent the expected baby show In
Immortal Gods, where were your lightnings
then3 Barnum where were your baby caJchers
in thai mad hour?
al, al pontd esti1l puntdl
ON otthe0t phfLOatsfp dpoth1lSskei neos!
And Yet l., q. A. T., am still allvel
Spared for loftier fate.
Spared 70 write more accounts Of battles.
Spared for the Paris Exposition.
Spared for the envy OF Reneraiions yet I'M
born I'm. Y. Evenfn0 G0zeile. X
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