The New Orleans crescent. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1866-1869, 1868-07-26
A Leve Letter.

my Dear Jevusha-Every time l think of
you my heart fops up and down like churn
dssher. Sensations of unutterable Joy caper over
il like young goats over stable roof, and thrill
through it like Spanish needles through pair of
linen trousers. As a gosling swimmeth with de-
light in mud puddle so swim In sea of glory.
Visions of ecstactic rapture, thicker than the hair
of blscking brush and brighter than the hues on
bummiDg birds pinions visit me in my slumbers;
and bourn on their invisible wings your image
stands before me. and reach out to grasp it, like
an old pointer swapping at a blue bottle fly.
When first beheld your angelic PROJECTIONS was
bewildered and my brain whirled around like a
humble bee in glass tumbler. My eyes stood
open like cellar doors in country towns, and
lifted up my ears to catch the slvery accents Of
your voice. My tongue refused to wag and in
silent admiration drank in the sweet infections
of love, as thirsty man swalloweth tumbler Of
hot whisky punch. Since the light of your face
fell upon my life, sometimes feel as If | could
lift myself by my bootstrsps to the top of q
church steeple. Day and night you are my
thought. When Aurora, blushng like q bride,
rises from her saffron couch; when the jay
bird pipes his tuneful lay In the apple tree By the
spring house when the chandeliers shrill clarion
heTalds the coming morn; when the awakened
pig ariseth from his bed and grunteth and goeth
forth for his morning refreshments; when the
drOWsy beetle wheels his droning flight at noon
tide, and when the lowing cows come home at
milking time, think of thee and like piece Of
gum-elsstic my heart seems TO stretch clean
across my bosom. Your hair is like the name Of
a sorrel horse powdered with gold, and the brass
pin skewered through your waterfall filled me
with unbounded awe. Your forehead Is smoother
than the elbow of an old coat, and whittier than
seventeen hundred linen. Your eyes are gloroas
10 behold. In their liquid depths see legons of
little cupids battling and lighting like cohorts of
ants in an old army cracker. When their fire hit
me full on my manly breast, it permested my en-
tire anatomy, like as load Of bird shot would go
through q rotten apple. Your nose is from a
chunk of parian marble, and your mouth puckered
with sweetness Nectar fingers on your lips like
honey on a bears paws, and myriads OF unfedged
kisses are there ready to fly out and light some
where like young blue birds out of the parent
nest. Your laugh rings on my ears like the wind
harp's strain, or the bleat Of stray lamb on the
bleak hillside. The dimples on ysur cheeks are
like bowers in beds of roses, or like hollows In
cakes Of homemade sugar.
am dying to fly TO your presence and pour out
the burning eloquence Of my love, as thrifty
housewives pour out the hot coffee. Away from
you | am melancholy as q sick rat. Sometimes
can hear the June bugs of dependency buzzng
in my ears and feel the cold Lizards of despair
crawling down my back. Uncouth fears, like
thousand minnows nibbling at my spirit, and my
soul is pierced through with doubts, as an old
cheese is bored by shippers.
My love for you is stronger than the smell of old
butter, SWeitZer cheese or the kick Of mule (; It
is purer than the breath Of young crow, and
more uDselhsh than Kittens first catterwaql.
AS the song bird huDgers for the light of day, the
cautious for the fresh bacon in the tray, as
lean pup bankers after new milk-so long for
thee.
You are fairer shan speckled pullet; sweeter
than a Yankee doughnut fried in sorghum mo.
lasses brighter than the top-knot plumage on the
head Of a muscoyy duck. You are candy kisses,
pound.cske and sweet toddy altogether.
II these few remarks will enable you to see the
inside of my soul, and me to win your affections,
j shall be as happy as q woodpeeker in cherry
tree, or a stage horse in green pasture. If you
cannot reciprocate my thrilling passion will pine
away like q poisoned bed-bug, and in coming
years, when the shadows grow long from the hills,
and the philosophic frog sings his evening hymn,
you, happy in another's love, can come and drop
q tear and toss cod upon the last restng-place
of JULIUS EPnAMINODUs HIGGINS.