MY MOCKING-BIRD.
With wings a-quiver, eyes irate,
He watched me coming near,
Each plume upon his panting breast
Astir with kindling fear.
My hand, though always kindly stretched,
He would not think it good;
And as I placed some sugar in,
He pecked, and drew my blood.
So have I seen the souls caged here,
To learn celestial speech
From angels chanting love so near
They seemed within arm reach;
When closer to them drew God's power,
In wrath or terror stand;
And while he dropped the sweet, dart up
And rend His dear, warm hand.
The London Times is becoming malignantly consistent, and has declared that there should be at present nothing more said of intervention in American affairs, because it would have the effect to immediately strengthen the Federal army.
'If we wish to give the Civil War a new impetus, to recruit for the North with a vigor with which they never can again recruit for themselves, we have only to take some step, we do not say what step, but any step which can be represented as being an interference on our part in the quarrel. The spirit of conquest is worn out, but we know the Americans too well to doubt that the spirit of national independence is as strong as ever. If we interfere at all, we assist Mr. Lincoln to raise his three hundred thousand men, we give a new impetus to the war, and postpone indefinitely the chances of peace, which will never come till the North has been convinced that it is useless to prosecute the war any further. To do nothing is often the wisest, but generally the most difficult policy. We hope that, unless some complete change in the conditions of the problem take place, our government will on no account allow itself to be tempted out of its present policy of expressive silence and masterly inaction.'
The Times speaks too late. One year ago it did not express the sentiments of all England—now unfortunately we find that it has not only poisoned all Great Britain, but is rapidly stirring up Europe against us. The steady stream of falsehood; the reports of Federal defeats which never occurred, and of confederate victories more unfounded, are gradually weakening the faith even of Americans abroad in the great cause of freedom. Let our people arm and out, in all their strength. England and France are only waiting for reverses to our Government to attack us right and left.
We clip the following in reference to a popular eccentric phrase from a note by a friend:
'By the way, do you know that the phrase, 'Or any other man,' can be found in Byron's Letter to my Grandmother's Review? He writes:
"Charley Incledon's usual exordium when people came into the tavern to hear him sing, without paying their share of the reckoning: 'If a maun, or ony maun, or ony other maun,' etc., etc.''