iit!!iiii«ijiiiiiiHJiiiiiiim;iiiiii|i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DODOaOTETT^ ♦ ^V^'^^V^ \J'^^*'V^ '^^V^'^^V % G • ^ xOvN. ''\^^'\/' "^J^^-y \j'^^V^^ "^ *0^ 7 * ifyy/iTB^ ^ V" ./ .'le^:- V.4' .v^KJi'. v./ ^•;^:. V.*'' V • O" n-o^ ^^v .^ %. ^ ^^ ' ^^ I • -^ vV*^ * ff*\ «» '''- V" »!.*°' '^^ ^P .'Win:* '^ ./ ^^^ ^^ ^O, '■^pi^^/'^^^/'.^; •^^ ^- .'}.%ik' '^^. .^ .*«i^\ *j. y:^£^ \.jf * «5> ^ • v^'*ray you 1 Clown. Why, he will look upon his boot and sing. All's Well that Ends IVell. ijing still lor Richard't- sui^e. King Henry y. / N E W - Y O R K : H i: N D )■, iiiH}:^ (J R E j: N i: , publish e r No. :m BROADWAY. 1841. 5\3)^ Kiitered according to Act ofOoiigtcss, in llie year 1H41, by Heiulc rsoii (;reenc,iii the Clerk': Office of the District Court for tlie .Southern District of New-York. windt's printerv, 99 reaue street. 16- Ik? Jo CONTENTS All Economical Hint C r &■ Co. 7 Letter in reply to an Invitation Hon. D. W. 11 A Daylight Chaunt to the Big Boot . . . . H. W. L. 15 Drainatic Fragment N. P. VV. 17 Extract from a Letter - - VV. L 19 Song G. P. M. 23 Song, composed for the Richards Dinner - - - - S. W. 25 Extract from an unpublished Poem - - - - F. G. H. 27 Meditation on Boots W. C. B. 29 Letter in reply to an Invitation G. T. 31 Bunkum Stanzas M'D. C. 34 Farewell to the Lyre S. E. J. 37 The Magic Boots . - - Jbifl. 39 PREFACE. In presentino- this little volume to the public, it is not un- reasonable to .suppose that some explanation of its nature and object will be acceptable, and indeed may be looked for, at the hands of the pubHsher. Tnder this impression he will endeavor to convey to the reader some idea of its character, and to state as briefly as possible the circumstances under which the publication is made. It will be remembered by all who have read the interest- ing account of the public dinner recently given to Mr. Rich- ards, the well known proprietor of one of the most extensive boot and shoe establishments in the city, that it was stated, that letters from a number of the most distinguished literary, scientific and political men in the country — who had been invited, but from various causes were unable to attend — were received and read in the course of the evening. In preparing an account of the dinner for the papers, it was originally the intention of the committee having the matter m charge to publish these letters at length, with the other VI PREFACE. proceedings ; but rinding tliat the publication would be ex- tended to an inordinate length, they were reluctantly com- pelled to omit them, and content themselves with simply announcing the fact that such letters were received and read. Since that time, however, numerous applications for copies have been made, accompanied with urgent requests that the possessor of the manuscripts would give them to the public through the medium of the daily papers, or in some more durable form. In compliance with these repeated and ear- nest solicitations therefore, they have been put in their pre- sent form, precisely in the order in which they were read at the dinner, and being exact copies of the originals with the exception of the omission, in some instances, of the intro- ductory remarks by the authors, which were not deemed of sufficient interest or importance to be retained. And in this shape they are now for the first time offered to the public, in the hope that they will afford as much instruction and amusement to the reader, as they have to his obliged and humble servant, The Publisher. AN i: ( () IV () ivi I r A L III IN r 5Y r. R & CO. .ie I'fgaiilai avt-c ticaiicoiip de satisfaction ce gout {rciicrni pon T[IE charms that once oiu city wore, [lave faded with our boyhood's bloom ; (jroue are the merry days of yore, Gone, — as all days have gone before, To Time's tremendous tomb, — Whose arches echo back a knell, — For M*****ll, W****r, SheriH' B*ll, L**g, P*ff; and S*****n P***e, are dead And memory wakens but to tell Of fun, frolic and defaidters tied. We will not grieve, — for grief's a canker. That gnaws with greedy tooth the heart : That bids the cheek grow lank and lanker, And makes us act a sorry part ; But, suiting to the altered times. We'll change the fashion of our rtiymes, And like the sage Ben Franklin, be A stickler for economy. And moral teacher to (he manv ; RICHARDSIANA. We'll learn them how to fright a dun, — To take good care of " number one," And liow to save a penny : These are not the prosperous days, When, basked in fortune's sunny rays, We revelled in riches and in sloth ; — Noiv all should know the saws by rote, " A daily pin's a yearly groat," And " every man must cut his coat According to his cloth." We've been too lavish heretofore In dress, to suit the present tenses ; We must not be so any more, But learn to curtail our expenses. Apropos des bottes, — to those who seek To hide their feet in case of leather, To guard them well against the bleak, Cold, storm-fraught wintry weather, — To go dryshod through muck and mire, At midnight, when the bell for fire Startles sound slumber from his dreams^ To brave the fury of the blaze That curls, in twice ten thousand ways, 'Round rafters, bricks and beams ; — Such boots in fact as warriors wore In golden times of old romance, Knights, Peers and Paladins of France, Ere chivalry resigned the lance, To wield a pen and open store ; — To all who such stout gear would find, To those who wish a lighter kind. Fit for a ball-room or Broadway ; RIOHARDSIANA. Boots, bootees, slippers, pumps and shoes, Of buckskin, leather, or prunella, — Of various sizes, shapes and hues, Black, white, blue, green or yellow; — To all we most sincerely say, Go to Boss Richards' famous store. Where darkly stands beside his door The enormous signal boot displayed, — For some big Brobdignagian made, Or giant monster, huge of limb, Of early days, when faith was dim, And folks believed whate'er was told 'em, When seers and poets peopled earth With forms of such prodigious birth 'Twould puzzle Dantin's brain to mould 'em. To the aforesaid place repair, And choose between round-toed and square, — You'll find the assortment choice and ample ; Take too your friends and family there, And let them follow your example. LETTER REPLY TO AN [NVfTA TIOIN BY THE HON. D. W. Washington. 18 — . GENTLEMEN : The pressure of public duties, which at present are more arduous than usual, will prevent ine from accepting your kind invitation. But I cannot allow the present occasion to pass without saying, that T heartily and entirely concur with you as to the fitness, propriety, and expediency, of the pro- posed manifestation of the public regard for a public bene- factor. I say public benefactor — and I use the term in its broadest and most comprehensive signification ; for whatever tends to promote the public welfare and happiness, by multi- plying and difliising the necessaries and luxuries of life — by discovering, inventing and increasing the means for their enjoyment — or by erdarging and spreading wider the bounds of arts, sciences, manufactures, commerce, education, &.c. so as to bring them within the means and grasp of all — is a public benefit : and whoever is an instrument in the accom- plishment of any of these ends, is a public benefactor. And such, emphatically, in my judgment, is Boss Richards. The manufacture of boots and shoes is, as you justly ob- serve, " one of the most important branches of domestic J 2 RICHARD.SIANA. industry." It is important considered separately and alone, and it is important when considered in reference to the va- rious other brandies and other interests associated, connect- ed and bound up with it. It has an important bearing, and it exerts an important influence, on the commerce and on the currency of the country. It is importunt in a private and social point of view, because boots and shoes are among^ the indispensable wants of civilized and refined society ; and it is important in the more extended public, political and national point of view, because of the vast amount of capital and labor invested and employed in their manufacture. By far the greater portion of the boots and shoes con- sumed in the United States, are, as you well know, gentle- men, made in New England ; and of that greater portion, at least four-fifths are furnished by Massachusetts and (Connec- ticut alone. In some towns — I speak particularly of towns in the state which I lately had the honor in part to represent in the Senate, and I speak from personal knowledge and actual observation — the business gives employment, and furnishes the means of an honorable livelihood, to a great majority of their industrious and enterprising population of both sexes, and of all ages. Lynn, and Grafton, and North Brookfield, and Worcester, and Berlin, and Hartford, are the great supply-shops of the union ; and from these deep, and everflowing, and overflowing fountains of industry, is poured forth a stream of boots and shoes that washes the whole continent, from Maine to Florida. We can have no just or reasonable conception, we can i^ather no correct idea, from the usual and ordinary way in which such subjects are pre- sented to the mind, of the vastness, extent and importance of this manufacture in some of the places I have named. A single striking fact, however, will sometimes aid the ima- gination more than whole columns or whole pages of mere figures ; and the following may give some notion of the value and extent of the shoe business in the flourishing town of KICHARDSIANA. | ;J Ijynii. It lias licoii Jiscoitaiiicd, tVoin calculations hased on the total iiiimber amiiiallv nianiilactured in that town, that there is a shoe constantly in the air, ieavin£j the hands of the workman. But, although particular states and particular sections only, are immediately and actively engaged in this useful and important branch of domestic industry, it is yet one in which all states and all sections are more or less interested. It is one in which the fisherman of Nantucket and the trap- per of Wisconsin are equally interested. It is one in which the farmer, the mechanic, the merchant, the manufacturer, the professional man and the laborer, all over the union, are interested. For all these classes, and all these occupations, require either boots or shoes ; and all are concerned and interested in obtaining the best and most durable article, and at the lowest prices. The people of New England, by their constitutional spirit of enterprize, by their habits of untiring industry and perseverance, by their peculiar faculty for inventing, improving, and adapting to useful purposes, labor-doing and labor-saving machinery and instruments — thereby lessening the cost of production — are, in my judg- ment, peculiarly fitted for, and have consequently become, a manufacturing people. And by bringing all the advantages I have enumerated to bear in the manufacture of boots and shoes, they are enabled to furnish a cheaper and more sub- stantial article than can be I'ound in any other quarter of the union : and the consequence is, as I have said before, they supply every other quarter of the union. I have myself seen and recognized in St. Louis and Cincinnati, as well as in New- York and Baltimore, the work of many of my worthy constituents in the old Bay State. In passing through New- York lately, on my way to the seat of government, it so happened that I was detained there several days on private business ; and T availed myself then, 14 RICHARDSIANA. as I have often done before, of the opportunity afforded by some hours of leisure for visiting and inspecting some of the various factories, worksliops and warehouses with which your noble city abounds. Among other objects of interest, I vi- sited the store of Mr. Richards ; and I confess, gentlemen, that much as I had been led to expect from the accounts I had previously read and heard, I was in no way disappointed. I found an extensive establishment, conducted with intelli- gence and propriety, and containing a large and judiciously selected and arranged stock of boots and shoes, well adapted to the wants and requirements of all classes and conditions in your community. I was informed by the proprietor, and 1 mention the fact with pleasure, that notwithstanding the disordered, and deranged, and dilapidated state of the cur- rency and exchanges of the country, his business was in a prosperous and flourishing condition. But, gentlemen, I have already extended these remarks farther than I intended ; and though the subject is by no means worn out or exhausted, I fear your patience is. I will therefore conclude by offering the following sentiment : — " The boot and shoe manufactories of New England, and the boot and shoe stores of New- York : established for the public accommodation and the public benefit, and associated, connected and bound closely together by one object, one interest, one commodity." I thank you for the very friendly sentiments contained in your letter, and remain, gentlemen, Yours with regard, D. W. To the Committee of Arrangements. A DAYLIGHT CHAUNT TO THE BIG BOOT. B y H. W. L Solch einen grossen stiefel sali Kein aiiee befor I" What a foot that boot would hold ! Foot of Titan huge and grim, Fabled by the bards of old — Mighty in bulk and limb, And no ways slim ! Lived there now so huge a creature, One of that lofty brood — The giant sons of early nature, That walked before the flood, The flood of Noah- In strength and altitude a tower, Moving on about the town, With a fifty mammoth power, TrampHng and treading down, Down, derry down ! Like the Rhodian Colossus, Or demi-god old Greek, 16 KICHAltDSIANA. ile'd take us up and toss us Into the coining week, The middle of it ; And with big strides stalking, Would tread upon, like eggs. Us petty men, while walking Under his huge legs, Peeping about. There it stands, all made of leather — A single one — there is no more — Wonder how 'twas put together ! The boot at Richards' door. The big boot ! It is a sign — a sign of wonder ; Enormous — very vast ! And its face is black as thunder : 'Twas made upon a last, A large last ! With mute eloquence it speaketh, And its voice inaudible Like unheard music breaketh — " Come buy the boots we sell ! Buy ! buy ! " Boots and shoes to suit all ages, For mild and stormy days ; Fit to shield the feet of sages, Or any one that pays The ready cash. Buy the goods we sell ! Cheap goods we sell !" GUnmanj, , \s — . Gentlemen : I regret exceedingly that my engagements will preclude the possi- bility of my availing myself of your kind invitation. Wishing however to add something, if possible, to the enjoyment of those present, I composed the en- closed " Dramatic Fragment" after dinner yesterday ; (I never compose be- fore) — and if it afford gratification, no one will feel more obliged than Your ob'tserv't, N. P. W. To the Committee of Airaiisreinents. DRAMATIC FRAGMENT. Duke. You say you saw a wonder — well, what was't. ? Is't so strange that now your cheek is pale Or ere you have commenced it ? Count. I dare not ; My tongue forsakes its office, and my blood Creeps to my heart as if it were a thing Afraid of light. Forgive my weakness, Duke. Duke. Art thou a man ? This strange unwillingness Awakes my curiosity. Tell it, good Count, And do not let thy boyishness o'ermaster The man that dwells within thee. Count. Weil then, I charge thee be prepared to hear That which will startle thee as much as if An angel had forsook its sphere, and sailed At mid-day o'er the blue expanse of heaven ; As if a star that thou wert gazing at, 18 RICHARDSIANA. Had dropt to earth, and stood before thine eyes Like an illumined diamond ; — as if The delicate texture of thy wife's fair skin (Nay, start not, gentle Duke, thy wife's I say) Had changed to a dull crumbling inkiness ; As if Duke. No more, but tell thy story straight ; And I will stand e'en like marble statue Mute with wonder : Come, thy wonder — tell it. Count. It was no wonder from the womb of earth. But something that mine eye ne'er saw before. And therefore strange. Duke. What was't ? — quickly 1 Count. A boot ; But one of such enormous magnitude, My eyes did almost leave their seated homes To scan it o'er. Upon its ample top A golden eagle stands — while at its foot A hecatomb of smaller boots are piled ! Duke. You do amaze me : my foot is none the smallest, Yet if your tale be true 'twould hide my body. Count. Your body ! — If yours and all your subjects' feet Were brought together, they would all go in, And still leave room to shield another pair ! Duke. Sayst thou so ? Who owns this boot r Count. Boss Richards ; He keeps a famous store near Greenwich Street, Within Canal ; and his assortment vast Doth challenge competition. Duke. Say'st thou so ? 'Tis strange — I want a pair of boots myself; Show me his store. Count. Have with you, mighty Duke ! [Exeunt.'\ EXTRACT FROM A LETTER BY W ******! have always had from Jiiy earhest recollection a fondness for rambling, and I recollect well in my young days of getting into many awkward dilemmas by wandering into unfrequented streets, much to the dissatisfac- tion of my parents, and the amusement of the passers by. This habit still maintains a strong hold upon me, although the danger which once accompanied it has disappeared with the lapse of years. During a ramble I took one afternoon in the latter part of the month of February, (a mild and spring-like day, — though, from the breaking up of the snows of winter, it was damp and disagreeable under foot,) I was struck with the extent of our noble city ; for it is even within my recollection when, where Cawa/ Street now is, was considered quite a great way out of town, and below it might be seen the humble yellow domicil of the worthy Dutch burgher, at whose door its peaceful occupant would sit of a fine afternoon, in Dutch indolence and freedom, puffing his tasselled pipe ; while his good vrow at his side, in perfect happiness and peace, was busy at her wheel. Where is now that modest mansion ? Alas ! it has been leveled to the earth to allow some new street to pass through, or pushed from its foundation to give 20 RICHARDSIANA. place to the nobler edifice of the adventurous Yankee, and not a vestige remains of its tiled roof, to confirm the stran- ger in his belief that this place once gloried in the name of Nieuw Amsterdam. But to resume. It was at that hour of the day when na- ture is wrapt in the hazy twilight that heralds in the solemn night. The sun was sinking in the west, gilding with his parting rays the distant spires, till they glowed as with fire. A few indolent clouds that seemed to form a curtain to his couch of rest, were floating gradually away, until their faint outlines could scarcely be distinguished from the blue moun- tains afar off, around whose brows they were slowly ga- thering. I moved along Canal Street with a dense crowd of honest laborers, whose brows were still beaded with the drops of toil — a motley group, who were wending their way homeward after the fatigues and cares of the day — when my attention was suddenly arrested by a huge boot, which stands as a sign at the boot and shoe store of Mr. Richards. I knew that it stood there as a sign, for none of the present race of men have need of such enormous casements for the feet ; nor could any race have existed that required such, unless those who are known to us through the musty tomes which the hand of the antiquary has rescued from oblivion. I stood gazing at the boot, recalling to my mind the vari- ous kinds of shoes that were worn by the generations that have preceded us ; the round-toed shoes of the sturdy Knick- erbocker, surmounted with the shining silver buckle, and the more simple ties which used to greet my sight in my youth- ful days, as they came home punctually of a Saturday night from the store of my old friend M 11, one of the oldest members of the honorable corps of shoe-makers now living ; and well do I remember the manner in which, with a clean collar and my new shoes, I strutted a peacock among my RICHARDSIANA. 21 play-lellows. But time swept swiftly on, and fashion com- pelled me to resign the simple shoe and assume the more manly boot ; though, with a heart yearning for the hours of childhood, I have often wished myself standing in the simple shoes which covered my infant feet. I was awakened from my reverie by the supplicating cry of a miserable being who stood at my side, with a squalid little boy clinging to his tattered garments. The wretched man recounted to me the many misfortunes that had befal- len him since his childhood, and mentioned his present ne- cessity for covering of some kind for his feet, which had be- come frost-bitten from exposure to the cold. With a heart softened by his entreaties, I stepped into the store and sup- plied him with a pair of boots from tlie abundant stock Mr. Richards has always on hand ; and, with many thanks on his lips, and tears in his eyes, the poor creature went on his way rejoicing. Struck with the excellent appearance of Mr. Richards' boots, I could not resist the temptation of purchasing a pair for myself; when I resumed my ramble, with a heart lulled to a state of calm repose by the consciousness of having al- leviated the sufferings of a fellow-creature. Your obd't servant, W. I. To the Committee of Arrangements. SONG TO BT ADAPTF.n TO A PDl'lUAlt VKCUd "MKI.ODV. BY a. V. M I. In a cottage neat, Within a poplar shade, — A pleasant country seat, — Dwelt a lovely maid- Lovers many woo her, With tender billct-dou:t ; But Reuben sent unto her A pair of Richards' shoes. II. Alas ! for Reuben now. The gift will cost him pain ; She cannot, any how. Love her loving swain. The coquette's part she's acted, Listen'd another's suit, — A rich young heir, attracted By the beauty of her foot. 24 RlCHARDSIANAc III. Cruel ! to scorn the youth, Who furnished thus a dart To blight his love and truth, And pierce his faithful heart. Reuben's brain is shaken — Talks of rope and knife ; The rich young heir has taken The maiden home for wife. SONG. COMPOSED FOR THE RICHARUS DINNER, RY S. W' Am — " Songs of shepherds and rustical roundelays." In this moment of joyous hilarity, Comes the poet to offer a song ; Pray, kind friends, extend him your charity, Should ho hold you in hearing too long : A.nd that you'll draw near sirs, and lend him your ear sirs. And mark what you hear sirs, is all that he prays ; Then all 'round this table he's sure will be able To gain footing stable for winter's worst days- Boast they may of some d la mode artisans. Puffing and praising them all the world o'er ; What care we for the stories of partisans. Always lauding a favorite store, — And praising their Sutton, their Knapp,Weaks and Hutton ? But who cares a button for boots that look neat. When Richards' for wearing, without ripping or tearing, We find by comparing, with any compete. His boots are not made with wondrous rapidity. Humbugging those who purchase the same. By men grasping at bread with avidity, — But in Lowell, that town of great fame, 26 RICHARDSIANA. By men stout and full-fed as ever did pull thread Or work for their roll-bread and joyfully sing, Whom Richards engages, and pays them high wages, Which in this tight age is a wonderful thing ! Englishmen boasting with swelhng pomposity, Swear their Wellingtons are not surpassed, — Telling such stories of awful monstrosity, 'Bout the number of years they will last : Yet Britons, though clever, may daily endeavor ; But can they ? no, never ! rival us of the west : To London, 'tis stated, our vessels go freighted With boots which are rated the cheapest and best. Frenchmen famous for fashions and fooleries, Say our workmen with any compete ; King Louis Philippe now rides to the Tuilleries, Wearing Richards' best boots on his feet. The ladies of fashion, as gaily they dash on. Fall into love's passion, whenever they see Al friend or a lover, and quickly discover His feet boast for cover boots made by the free ! Cooper, lately a target for editors — Halleck, last of the Croakers and best — Bryant, the bard so deserving of credit sirs — Have lately been putting his boots to the test ; And Washington Irving, of fame so deserving. His health is preserving by wearing them too ; And the wise and the witty, the ugly and pretty, Throughout our famed city, do as all ought to do I EXTRACT K R O l\r AN UNPUBLISHED P K M , BY F. G. II There is a mammoth boot near Greenwich Street, Within Canal, at famous Richards' store ; And when that mammotli boot my eye did meet In passing there, I halted at the door, And thought of Johnson, Isaac Newton, Bacon, — Whose understandings, if I'm not mistaken. Were mighty, like the hurricane that sweeps The storm-sear'd leaves that pile the untrod west ; But I'm digressing — this same liichards keeps Of boots and shoes the finest and the best That ever covered feet that trod inside 'em ; I speak from knowledge, for I've often tried 'em. I like to buy my boots there ; — there's a free And easy feeling when you first pull on A pair of boots that fit you — as the tree Fits to the bark ; — this simile is one I'd not have used had not the rhyme requiied it. Because 'tis wrong, — enough that I desired it. 28 RICHARDSIANA. And when the boots are on, the bill receipted, — For without that 'tis like unbuttered bread, — You feel like some rich gentleman, when seated In a snug coach and two, — and tread The crowded streets as if you were a god, And deem you flatter when you give the nod To a friend passing ; — one perchance who twined Around your heart in youth the fair green shoots Of friendship's flower, which years but faster bind : But I am speaking not of friends, but boots. And therefore to my story, — for digression Is apt to make the subject lack expression. You who would wear the high-topp'd Wellington, Or imitate the buskin'd youth of yore ; Or you who more affect the Spanish Don, With his Iberian boot — at Richards' store You'll find them all ; he'll make them in a trice. Good, warm and stout, and cheap at any price. MKDITATION OIN KOO'lS HY w. c. n If in this town tlieic is one decent shop, Where man may purchase boots and shoes to keep In winter months his feet both dry and warm, Boss Richards' is that one. Sign of the boot, Too huge for the mere pigmies of our day ; But such the fancy deems were haply worn By the first tribes of earth, — those giant men Who vanished ere our dwindled race began, And left behind no record — nought to tell To after times their faith, their warlike dee THE LYllE. BY .SYNONYM E X P L, E '1' 1 V li JIN G L !•: , E S Q Writer for the Magazines. I. Farewell my Lyre ! no more thy strings Shall waken joyous mebdy, To soothe the lonely thought that brings Remembrance sad of love and thee : My spirit cannot bide the tone That thrill'd ihe fibres of the heart, — Bereft of feeling, Joy is gone, And Sorrow pale bids Hope depart ! n. Farewell my Lyre ! in other days Thy trembling strings awoke the spell, Which shed o'er life the orient rays, And bade the voice of rapture swell ; When gladness, mirth and revelry Were gently borne on zephyr's wing, And wandered like the honey bee From flower to flower, without a sting ! m. Farewell my Lyre ! the fleeting flowers That floated o'er the pearly past, And roved in beauty's vine-chid bowers, Too bright and beautiful to last ; 38 RICHAllDSJANA. Fond drearns of young Ambition's star, — Bliss swept beyond life's desart plain, — Like rainbow hues on Fancy's car, This heart may never know again. IV Round the gay tones of festal glee Thy influence bland, with cadence sweet, Was wont to charm with witchery Pain's aching heart, Time's flying feet. And when thy willing chords were strung By magic fingers half divine, Enchanting Beauty o'er thee hung, Till fondly friendship hailed thee mine ! V. 'Tis past ! 'tis past ! This feeble hand — This pallid brow, and throbbing heart — Dark Disappointment's baleful band — In tuneless mockery all depart, And leave to fell Despair a prey A heart which passions wild control. And Sorrow's smart, and sad Decay, O'er which Oblivion's waters roll. VI. Upon the willow boughs, unstrung, I'll leave thee to the sighing breeze ; And by the neck they'U find me hung, Dangling beside thee from the trees ! Yet ere I quit thee, one fond strain Yield from thy sad and broken wire ; One soothing tone pour back again. And then, for aye, farewell my Lyre ! THE MAGIC BOOTS. IjO ! memory's rosy wing unlocks the portals of the past, And shadows fleet from off the waves upon the spirit cast ; Remembrance recalls again the hour when first I pulled them on, Like a talisman they bring back joyous hours forever gone. I've worn them in the mazy dance, and in the lighted hall, When the purple wine was poured on some gorgeous festival ; When giddy Fashion's thronging crowds led the fleet hours along. And from the heart flowed forth the tide of melody and song. I've worn them when the day-god's eye, in morning's dawn- ing hour. First sheds the radiant light abroad in majesty and power ; When the eastern sky is bathed with robes of bright ethe- real hue, And balmy gales of ether sport in the cerulean blue. I've worn them when the weary sun is sinking in the west. And twilight's tresses gem the beams of eve's empurpled vest ; When the gathering clouds are penciling their shadows on the sky, And with gauze wings unfolding their heaven-wove tapestry. 40 lilCIlARD«lANA. I've worn them on the waters ot'oeean's lujuid waves, Above the mermaid's crystal home far down in coral caves ; I've worn them in gay palaces in bright and sunny France, In Ensfland, where I did behold Victoria's countenance. I've worn them when the fancy paused to trace the azure sky That arches o'er the lovely land of classic Italy ; In Venice on the Rialto, and on the Bridge of Sighs, And other places that call up sweet pleasant memories. Yet still they look genteel and neat — although they're some- what old ; The uppers haven't ripped a bit, nor have they been half- soled ; Now while I pull them off, alas ! to pull them on no more, They look as new as when they hung at Old Boss Richards' door ! Hfi2 ^c PRbbbHVA I ION TECHNOLOGIES, LP. 1 f 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 • '^•f'. 5.^-" . ^^ Vv>-, K^"^, m ,0' ;^ > O^ '* , o' ^0 -^ ' . , 1 5^ Hi'"' ^^ '•