EVENING. BY A TAILOR. DAY hath put on his jacket, and around His burning bosom buttoned it with stars. Here will I lay me on the velvet grass, That is like padding to earth's meagre ribs, And hold communion with the things about me. Ah me! how lovely is the golden braid, That binds the skirt of night's descending robe ! The thin leaves, quivering on their silken threads, Do make a music like to rustling satin, As the light breezes smooth their downy nap. Ha! what is this that rises to my touch, So like a cushion? Can it be a cabbage? Which boys do flout us with ; —but yet I love thee, Thou giant rose, wrapped in a green surtout. Doubtless in Eden thou didst blush as bright Is that a swan that rides upon the water? When these young hands first closed upon a goose; I have a scar upon my thimble finger, And my sire's grandsire, all of them were tailors; From some remoter tailor of our race. It happened I did see it on a time When none was near, and I did deal with it, It is a joy to straighten out one's limbs, And leap elastic from the level counter, Leaving the petty grievances of earth, The breaking thread, the din of clashing shears, And all the needles that do wound the spirit, For such a pensive hour of soothing silence. Kind Nature, shuffling in her loose undress, Lays bare her shady bosom ; —I can feel With all around me; I can hail the flowers That sprig earth's mantle, and yon quiet bird, Where I can coil them in their wonted fashion. 9 THE DORCHESTER GIANT. THERE was a giant in time of old, A mighty one was he; He had a wife, but she was a scold, It happened to be an election day, And the giants were choosing a king; The people were not democrats then, Then the giant took his children three And fastened them in the pen ; The children roared; quoth the giant, "Be still!" And Dorchester Heights and Milton Hill Rolled back the sound again. Then he brought them a pudding stuffed with plum. As big as the State-House dome ; Quoth he, "There's something for you to eat; So the giant pulled him a chestnut stout, The boys and their mother set up a shout, Off he went, and he growled a tune 'Tis said a buffalo fainted away, When he heard the giant's song. But whether the story 's true or not, There's many a thing that 's twice as queer And those are true, you know. |