When the flowers were full in their blow, the birds in their song and feather.

"Where lovers would come in the noontime loitering, never but two,

Looking in each other's eyes, like the pigeons that kiss and coo.

"And O! the honeyed words that came when the lips were parted,

And the passion that glowed in eyes, and the lightning looks that darted!

66

Enough, Love dwells in the pipe: so ever it glows

with fire.

I am the soul of the bush, and the spirits call me SweetBrier."

That's what the Brier-wood said, as nigh as my tongue can tell,

And the words went straight to my heart, like the stroke of the fire-bell.

To-night I lie in the clover, watching the blossomy

smoke;

I'm glad the boys are asleep, for I'm not in the humor to joke.

I lie in the hefty clover:* between me and the waning

moon

The smoke from my pipe arises: my heart will be quiet

soon.

*I do not know what the author means by "hefty" clover. Hardly, having "heft," or weight.

My thoughts are back in the city; I'm everything I've

been;

I hear the bell from the tower; I run with the swift ma

chine.

I see the red-shirts crowding around the engine-house

door;

The foreman's hail through the trumpet comes with a sullen roar.

The reel in the Bowery dance-house, the row in the beer

saloon,

Where I put in my licks at Big Paul, come between me and the moon.

I hear the drum and the bugle, the tramp of the cowskin boots;

We are marching to the Capital,

cruits.

the Fire-Zouave re

O! but the sight

White handkerchiefs wave before me.

is pretty

On the white marble steps, as we march through the heart of the city.

Bright eyes and clasping arms, and lips that bring us good hap,

And the splendid lady that gave me the havelock for my

cap.

O! up from my pipe-cloud rises, between me and the

moon,

A beautiful white-robed lady: my heart will be quiet

soon.

The lovely golden-haired lady ever in dreams I see,

Who gave me the snow-white havelock; but what does she care for ine?

JONATHAN TO JOHN.

49

Look at my grimy features: mountains between us stand; I with my sledge-hammer knuckles, she with her jewelled hand.

What care I?

The day that is dawning may see me when all is over,

With the red stream of my life-blood staining the hefty clover.

Hark! the reveille sounding out on the morning air! Devils are we for the battle: Will there be angels there?

Kiss me again, Sweet-Brier; the touch of your lips to

mine

Brings back the white-robed lady, with hair like the golden wine.

Vanity Fair, July 6, 1861.

JONATHAN TO JOHN.

A YANKEE IDYL.

BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

Ir don't seem hardly right, John,
When both my hands was full,
To stump me to a fight, John -
Your cousin, tu, John Bull!
Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess
We kno it now," sez he;
"The lion's paw is all the law,
Accordin' to J. B.,

Thet's fit for you an' me!

Blood an't so cool as ink. John :
It's likely you'd ha' wrote,
An' stopped a spell to think, John,
Arter they'd eat your throat!
Ole Uncle S. sz he, “I guess

He'd skurce ha' stopped." sez he,
“To mind his p's and q's ef that weasan’
Hed belonged to ole J. B.,

Instid o' you an' me!'

Ef I turned mad dogs loose. John,
On your front-parlor stairs,
Would it jest meet your views, John,

To wait an' sue their heirs?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess,

I only guess," sez he,

Thet, er Vattel on his toes fell,

T would kind o' rile J. B.,

Er wall ez you an' me!"

Who made the law thet hurts. John,
Heads I in- dito, tails &

“J. B.” was on his shirts. John,

Onless my memory fails*

Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess,

(I'm good at thet.)" sez he,

Thet sauce for goose an't jest the juice

* Mr. Biglow's memory, for we suppose Hosea loquitur) did not fall, as may be seen by the following extract from the London Times' st article about the Trent affair, October 28th, 1861:—“ UnwelCome as the truth may be, it is nevertheless a truth that are hare ourseires est blished a system "interaction") law which war tells against In high-handed and almost despotic manner we have in former days claimed privileges over neutrals which have at different times handed all the maritime powers of the world against us. We have upon stopping ships of war of neutral nations and taking insisted British subjects out of them."

JONATHAN TO JOHN.

For ganders with J. B.,

No more than you or me!"

When your rights was our wrong, John,
You did n't stop for fuss :
Britanny's trident-prongs, John,
Was good 'nough law for us.
Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess,
Though physic's good," sez he,
"It does n't foller that he can swaller
Prescriptions signed 'J. B.,'
Put up by you and me!"

We own the ocean, tu, John:
You must n't take it hard
Ef we can't think with you, John,
It's jest your own back yard.
Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess,
Ef thet's his claim," sez he,
"The fencin'-stuff 'll cost enough
To bust up friend J. B.,
Ez wal ez you an' me!"

Why talk so dreffle big, John,
Of honor, when it meant
You did n't care a fig, John,
But just for ten per cent?
Ole Uncle S. sez he, "I guess

He's like the rest," sez he:
"When all is done, its number one
Thet's nearest to J. B.,

Ez wal ez you an' me!"