The Portland daily press., 1874-07-14
POETRY.
John Paul to the Comet.


Z centric orb, shot madly from thy sphere,
Planet without plan dost travel on thine ear
Through wide expanse of space?
Known TO he nebplous. indefinite iuctuatipp
OF volume vast, but thin; wide circulating;
Thou noly, high translated Legal Tender,
Approach come higher; oblieing acquiesce
For To- the waiting swe-mob of the Press
Would fain 60 through thee.
And T. a youth. bald, honest, simple. gushing
OF poor but honest parents born-not flush though
born in Flushing
Am here TO interview thee
Tell us thy lineage as I've told thee mine
We have one end already OF thy aqueous Line
Thy sire,
Coggia,
Thou can'st not read that rhyme withouten ire)
But ell us of thy dam,
most transparent, lermeable sham
In all tradition linked with woe and slaughter,
Thou well mIsht'st be a son, a scion, a silver
An offspring of the bad dam Of Mill River
But no,
Not so.
Yet tell, us. Comet, dlyopos
OF water thou'It considered cross and Grabbed
Ere thou coln' ST nearer tell us, art thou rabd?
Has Sirius bit thee?
(Sure Ills enough to puzzle one,
They let that star ramp round without a muZZe on).
But whether mad or not
Don't dare to wag -hy tail or ihoult be shot;
For our sweet "stars' cops pcelers, worthy Colts,
Muss round with rusty pistols in their BELTS;
And thinking the more dogs they kill the merrier,
They might declare that thou'rt mad sky-terrer,
And blaze away and hit thee.
If so, take thou a crack,
And Just blaze fercely back
Until thou melt the lying, NANCY pack
ConfOunl EN-
Like iallow candies down into their shoes,
Or if thou burnst with more yindictye views,
Exround 'em,
This mad dog" cry
/ hate the hack word,
But turn it round and spell it backward
And it describes the lie.
If naught's the matter =
With thy edulla obongata,
Tell us how goes lie mart up there;
What are the movements now of bull and bear?
Is ting name Daniel Drew?
That milky way where all the small stars meet
ls't there, o Comet, that thou milkst the street?
Aquarius with hi, pot,
Who waters waters, VII h one ceaseess drip
And only rests at times to dry his scrip,
Is his name Sage not?
Are earnings Of your railroads ever "pooled %
The little fishes, are they ever fooled?
And the Great Bear, IS his true name Jay
Gould
Thou canst not tell yes, yes, one ought 10 know,
1hou'rt up in heayen-the Board meets down below
What papers have they there above the moon?
in thee | seem 10 glorited Tribune,
Shedding radiance rich and pure and sweet
Thy tail, what is it but the triple sheet!
That TAIL o Comet. gives another text
For questions; ends it here. complete, cenvexed,
or is't ''to be continued in the next?''-
In the next world, like Braddons. Wilkie Collins,
And that COMPOUNDED "His ory'' of Rollins,
Which, when thought I'd beaten its last column,
Always outfiankedme with another volume
Ist thy intent TO pass with no spiteful thrust
Or exc ''bounce" us, 'bu'st ancient crust?''
Erect mansard on this planets brow,
Raise Cain, turn Jack-n brief, to have row?
If that's thy game, put up Thy fins; why. dumb it,
Old Earths full of grit; and you can't come it, Comet!
But If your tail swept by and failed to twist me,
'Twould be just the first thing in life that miss
ed mel
~ 7. Tribune