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Then heads were made to carry weight,

And not to carry knowledge;
Boys were not “ brought up for the state,"

Girls were not sent to “college:”
Now! (oh! how this round world improves).

We've“ Essays” by mechanics, “ Courses ” of wisdom, with removes

And ladies' Calisthenics!

In the olden time, when youth had fled,

A lady's life was over ;
For might not she as well be dead

As live without a lover?
But now no foolish date we fix,

So brisk our Hymen's trade is,
Ladies are now at fifty-six,

But “elderly young ladies.”

VIII. And husbands now, with bolts and springs,

Ne'er cage, and frighten Cupid,
They know that if they clip his wings,

They only make him stupid;
Their “ married ladies” had no lutes

To sigh beneath their windows,
They treated them, those “ ancient” brutes,
As cruelly as Hindoos!

IX. They moped away their lives, poor souls!

By no soft vision brightened,
Perched up in castle pigeon-holes,

Expecting to be—frightened !
Or hauled away through field, or fray,

To dungeon or to tower,
They ne'er were neat for half a day,

Or safe for half an hour.

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'T was easy too, by fraud or force,

A wife's complaints to stifle ;
To starve her was a thing of course,

To poison her a trifle!
Their wrongs remain no longer dumb,

For now “ the laws” protect them,
And canes “ no thicker than one's thumb,”

Are suffered to correct them.

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Then dwell not, Lily! on an age

Of Fancy's wild creation,
Our own presents a fairer page

For Beauty's meditation:
Though you share no Bois Gilbert's bed,

No Front de Beuf's vagaries,
You may be comfortably wed

Some morning at St. Mary's!



Ar a very early hour of a July morning, an admirer of the picturesque stood alone upon the top of a hill, upon a spot best calculated to give him a bird's-eye view of the town in which he was a temporary resident, together with its adjacent scenery. The prospect he commanded was indeed most pleasing, notwithstanding that some blotches occasionally offended the eye, and produced disagreeable associations in the mind.

The extensive “haunt of men,"containing twenty thousand souls, peeped out, here and there, about a mile distant, through groves, gardens and orchards mixed up with its outskirts, and through more rural foliage between him and them. The river that ran under its bridges from a remote hill-source, widened as it approached the stranger; uplands sloped from behind it and all around to a great distance, the country was spotted with villas and mansions, and relieved with masses of trees, rich and abundant for an Irish landscape, though somewhat meagre if

compared with a parallel scene in perfected England. Beyond them, from twenty to forty miles off, towered blue mountains-shapeless, excepting in the general outline ; blank; pale; the mere spectres of what in reality they were. Upon their peaks alone the rising sun had begun to shine, whilst all the rest of the picture remained untouched by his beams, though visible in their promised advent; not vague in twilight, but distinct and fresh, however cool, and, as it were, unjoyous in the reflection rather than in the presence of godlike day. A white mist curled up, at different points of the widespread slopes, the river running gray and dim, and shewing only black wrinkles where at noon-tide it was to sport its dimples, and interweave its maze of little lines of light.

The dark spots of this fair view remain now to be noticed. Part of the suburbs of the town consisted of dingy ruins : cabins, and small farm-houses beyond them, also appeared half burned ;- no cattle grazed or sauntered, or reclined in their trampled pasturages-few, indeed, could be seen over the whole landscape; in other fields, hay had rotted, and wheat and barley were going to decay for want of the sickle ; many mills upon the brink of the river, or of its tributary streamlets, shewed signs of recent and present idleness; and before one of them, which the stranger knew had lately been converted into a temporary barrack, a sentinel was pacing. These, and other things, seemed to indicate that civil war, not yet quite subdued, had recently visited in its bitter wrath, one of the fairest districts of his country: in fact, it was the end of July, 1798.

“ But the storm is about to pass away," said he, “ never again, I hope, to gather on our hills and desolate our plains;- a few weeks more, and in this town and county, at least, we shall be amenable to our own civil magistrates, and not to the arbitrary administrators of martial law ;-a few days more, and our sisters, wives and daughters, need not tremble through the livelong night, cowering together like wood-pigeons from the hawk ;-a few days more, and you, dearest Bessie, now dreaming of me (you will say so at breakfast) in yonder garrisoned town, may be permitted to accept of my protection.”

Indulging the last feeling, he employed himself, loverlike, in trying to make out, among the different groups of houses that broke through the foliage in and beyond the town, the identical roof under which he imagined his fair dreamer to slumber, when he heard shrill cries from a bye-road that skirted the hill upon which he stood, although its convex sweep was so abrupt as to hide that road from his view. Suddenly the cries were hushed--and then came a clashing of weapons, from the same quarter. Indifferent to the danger of interfering, in such times, in an unknown quarrel, he hastened to the road, not indeed by plunging directly downward from the spot on which he had been standing, which was impracticable, but rather by running along

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