When I rang in the morning, the waiter brought a note. The address " pleasingly familiar" to me. I broke the seal, and read:"
Miss L—— will be excused from her engagement to ride with Mr. D—— to-day. Mr. D—— may spare himself the trouble of calling to inquire the reason."
And he did!
Q.
AN APPEAL.
"Oh! could ye taste the mirth ye mar,
Ye conquerors!"
Ye worshippers of glory!
Who bathe the earth in blood,
And launch proud names for an after age
Upon the crimson flood,
Pause, in your march of terror!
Woe hovers o'er your path;
Madness, despair, and death await
The conflict's gathering wrath!
Think ye a throne will prosper,
A nation's glory rise,
When your bark is borne by a people's tears,
And wafted by their sighs!
Look to the peaceful dwelling
Of the peasant and his race;
There's joy around that lowly hearth,
There's rapture on each face.
That brow with snow is whiten'd,
Those eyes with age are dim
But his face is bright at the twilight hour
Ashe joins the evening hymn.
For his children there are smiling.
What a blessed sight it is
To sit inthe shades of a pleasant eve,
And gaze on a scene like this!
Two manly youths are standing
Beside their father's chair,
And a maiden's face, all loveliness,
Shines like a sun-beam there.
A mother's placid features
Are in that circle found,
And her bosom warms with a thrill of joy
As she fondly looks around.
On! through the paths to glory,
Ye mighty conquerors!
The trumpet's voice has summon'd forth
Your legions to the wars!
Rush on, through fields of carnage,
And tread to earth the foe!
Where'er your banners float above,
Let your sabres flash below!
