LINES.
ON MISS MARTINEAU.
| When Martineau came, I was curious to see What sort of a body the damsel might be: A writer of sensible stories, I knew, On labor and wages; but was she a blue? Was she grave as a judge? Did she talk like a book? (A sort of man-woman,) and how did she look? So I waited upon her, and, venturing near, I whispered some words in her ivory ear; When she broke forth at once in her voluble chat, And talked away freely of this and of that, With such feminine ease, and such masculine sense, Without any portion of pride or pretence; (Illustrating all that she said with a smile, That showed she could charm if she thought it worth while;) That I dub her, you see, "an agreeable dame, And worthy of Hymen, as well as of Fame." |
Richmond, Feb. 28.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
EPITAPH.
ON A YOUNG LADY.
| Where this bending willow weeps, All alone, Myrtilla sleeps: Softly scatter nard and myrrh, Lest ye should awaken her. |