Daily Ohio statesman. [volume] (Columbus, Ohio) 1855-1870, 1868-08-28
l. A Beautiful Love Story.

f-'I A hscautfful Love story. ssI-i
Who, after reading the epistle below,
addressed to one of the 'sfast young men"
of Dyersburg, is prepared to say that the
art of telling love story in tropes and
figures of speech has become one of the
lost arts No one, we opine. II there
is another charming and suggestive
simile that can be added to the long list
called into requisition by tie fair writer,
we would like to know what it is: in
DYERsBURG, Aug. 5, 1868.
MY Own DEAR PLEAS Every time
I think of you, my heart fops up and
down like a churn dasher. Sensations
of unutterable joy caper over it like
young goats over stable roof, and thrill
through it like Spanish needles through
tow-linen trowsers. As gosling swim
meth with delight in a mud-puddle, so
swim in sea of glory. Visions of
ecstatic rapture, thicker than the hair
of a blacking brush, and brighter than
the hues on humming birds pinions,
visit ME in my slumbers, and borne on
their invisible wings, your image stands
before me, and / reach out to grasp it,
like an old pointer Swapping
at blue bottle-fy. When 1 first
beheld your sanity perfections
1 was bewildered, and my brain
whirled around like a bumble-bee under
a glass tumbler; my eyes stood open
like cellar-doors in the country towns.
And I lifted up my ears to catch the sill
very accents of your voice. My tongue
refused to wag, and in silent admiration
I drank in the sweet infection of love,
as a thirsty man swalloweth tumbler
of hot whisky punch. Since the light
Of your face fell upon my life, | some
times feel as if I could lift myself by my
shoe straps to the top of aichurch
steeple. Day and night you are my
thoughts. When "Aurora," blushing
like bride, rises from her saf-
ron couch; when the jay-bird
pipes his tuneful lay in the apple tree
by the spring-house when the chan
ticleer's shrill clarion heralds the coming
morn; when the awakened pig ariseth
from his bed, and goeth forth for his
morning refreshments; when the drowsy
beetle wheels his droning flight at sulky
noontide, and when the looing cows come
home at milking time, I think of thee
And like a piece of gum-elastic, my
heart seems to stretch clear across nv
bosom. Your hair is like the name
of sorrel horse painted with gold,
and the brass slide to your immac-
ulate neck tie fills me with unbounded
awe. Your forehead is smoother than
an old coat, and whittier than seventeen
hundred linen. Your eyes are glorious
to behold. In their liquid depths 1 see
legions of little cupids battling and fight
ing like cohorts of ants in an old army.
cracker. When their fire hit me full in
the womanly breast, it perforated my en-
tire anatomy like load of birdshot
would go through a rotten apple. Your
nose is from chunk of parian marble,
and your mouth Fuckers with sweetness.
Nectar fingers on your lips like honey on
bears paw, and myriads of unAedged
kisses are there ready to fly out of their
parent nest and light somewhere like |
blue birds out of their 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 in your cheeks are like bowers
in beds of roses, or like hollows in cakes |
of homemade sugar. am dying to fly
to your presence, and to pour out the
burning eloquence of my love as thrifty
housewife pours out the hot coffee.
Away from you I am as melancholy as |
a sick rat. Sometimes I can hear the
June bug of dependency buzzing in my
ears, and feel the cold Lizards of despair
down my yback. Uncouth fears
like thousand minners nibbling at my
spirits, and my soul is pierced through
with doubts as an old cheese is bored
by shippers. My love is stronger for
you than the smell of old butter, sweitzer
kase, or the kick of mule. 1t is purer
than the breath of a young crow, and
more ,unselGsh than Kittens first CATER
waul. AS the song bird hungers for the
light of day, the cautious mouse for the
fresh bacon in the trap, as lean pup
bankers after new milk, SO I long for
thee. You are farer than speckled I
pullet, sweeter than a Yankee dough-
nut fixed in sorghum molasses /:
brighter than the top-knot plumage
on the head of a Muscovia duck
You are candy-kisses, raisins, pound
cake, and toddy sweetened altogether. IF
these few remarks will enable you to
see the inside of my soul, and me to win
your affections, / shall be as happy as a
wood-pecker in a cherry tree, or stage
horse in green pasture. If you can.