POETICAL AND HUMOROUS ADDRESSES UPON LETTERS.

The exterior, as well as the interior of a letter is sometimes made the vehicle of sentiment, affection, wit, fun, and the like, which, thus riding as outside passengers, display their beauties to the gaze of those connected with post-offices. In such instances, it may be that the writer's ideas, gushing from his pen, have overflowed their bounds, and spread themselves upon the usually dry surface of the epistle. It must be a pleasing relief to post-office clerks, wearied with the monotonous task of turning up innumerable names, to find the flowers of fancy and imagination supplanting the endless catalogue of Smiths and Browns which ordinarily meet their eyes. Below are a few specimens of these embellished addresses.

The first is probably from some home-sick miner. It was mailed at San Francisco, California. His wife and children have no doubt derived, long ere this, the pleasure which he anticipated for them, in the perusal of the letter:—

Go, sheet, and carry all my heart;
(I would that thou couldst carry me,)
Freighted with love thou wilt depart
Across the land, across the sea.
O'er thee will bend a loving face.
To thee will listen little ears;
Thou wilt be welcomed in my place.
And thou wilt bring both smiles and tears.
Across the land, across the sea.
Thy homeward course thou wilt pursue.
I may not see them welcome thee.
Yet know I well their hearts are true.
Then swiftly go, thou ocean steed;
Roll on, ye rapid iron wheels.
Bearing away, with careless speed.
The message that my soul reveals.

The address followed, in plain prose.

Rail road, steamboats, horses, stages.
All of you are paid your wages.
All of you, for nothing better
Than to take this little letter.
Should the document miscarry.
Uncle Sam will see "old Harry!"
To prevent this dread collision.
I present unto your vision
State, county, and between, the town.
Indiana, Nashville, Brown.
For Mrs. Jane Eliza Brent.
This is enough,—now "let her went."

Here is a specimen in a less elevated strain:—

Robber, shouldst thou seize this letter.
Break it not; there's nothing in't.
Nought for which thou wouldst be better:
Note of bank, or coin from mint.
There is nothing but affection.
And perhaps a little news;
When you've read this, on reflection.
Take or leave it as you choose.
If you should conclude to leave it.
I would like to have it go
To Seth Jones, who will receive it
In the town we call Glasgow.
And the state of old Kentucky,
(There's no rhyme for that but "lucky.")