Yours, doubtingly,
Orpheus C. Kerr.
LETTER LX.
REPORTING THE SECOND REGULAR MEETING OF THE COSMOPOLITAN CLUB, AND THE BRITISH MEMBER'S CITATION OF THE ENGLISH POETS.
Washington, D. C., August 5th, 1862.
This is a dull day, my boy; and when there is no longer any sunshine to make steel bayonets and brass buttons glimmer to the eye, war is stript of half its pomp, and the American mind takes a plain, practical view of the strife.
Truth to tell, this secession is a very shabby, unromantic thing to fight about. There is really no poetry at all about it, my boy, and when one would rhyme about it, the mantle of poesy refuses to fall upon him, though a bogus sort of Hood may possibly keep him in countenance. The cause of this war is simply this—
PER SE.
Sepoys—sea-thieves—
C. Bonds—see slaves—
See seizures made in every kind of way;
See debts sequestrated—
Sea-island frustrated;
Segars—seditionists—and C. S. A.,