If from my words your woman's heart may choose
To find a guidance for a future way,
The Olympian impulse and the lyric muse
In such approval shall accept their pay.
And so, good-day, young girl—ah me! oh my! good-day.
"Edward Everdevoured."
As the solid Boston man finished reading this useful poem, he looked impressively at me, and says he:
"There's domestic eloquence for you! The Honorable Edward is liberal in his views," says he, enthusiastically, "and treats his subject with some latitude."
"Yes," says I, thoughtfully, "but they call it Platitude, sometimes."
He didn't hear me, my boy.