SELECT POETRY. AN IDLE STORY. By a Sleepy Man (after reading the "Raven") " 'Tis the voice of the sluggttrd." — Db. Watts. As I lay in bed one morning, all thought o: trouble scorning, And drowsily forgetful of the days of heretofore Suddenly I saw a ghost, standing close to mj bedpost. Still and silent as that post he stood upon mj chamber floor. Its form was vague and vapory, and clad in cloudy drapery, And icy blue and bloodless was the countenance it wore ; And the sunlight, soft and mellow, fell in streaks of sickly yellow On the honid foggy fellow, that I'd never seen before. Now I felt a heavy dullness creep upon me in the stillness, And my heart's blood flowing sluggishly, as from a failing store ; And the atmosphere grew thicker, as if I'd been in liquor, And my soul turned sick and sicker, I wot not well wherefore. My fears I tried to deaden ; but dull, and cold, and leaden, All effort grew and energy, as ne'er was heretofore ; "Which circumstances summing, I felt a something coming, For which I waited wearily in dull misgiving sore. And there beside the d'tnity with stately equanimity, This cold and spectral visitor stood shadowing my door ; And my heart was strangely shivered, and fluttered like a bird, When a voice more felt than heard, this warning did outpour. "I am one of evil fame, dark Indolence my name; I have power o'er every mortal, and a home on every shore ; I clog the Jitnbs with laziness, I cloud the mind with haziness, Head the way to oraziness — thy foe for evermore. lillthou rest beneath the turf, thou for ever art my serf, — M'Tie, despite the powers of eaifch, — its wisdom, wealth and lore ; Thy limbs shall drag my ohain, and my handprint shall remain Upon thy palsied brain, until it wither to the core." Thus like a grand inquisitor my mouldy looking \isitor Condemned me, even all unheard, unfriended, and forlorn ; | And my pride was sorely humbled, and my courage fairly crumbled, J Ajid so utterly down tumbled I never felt before. Then the phantom disappeared, and another voice I heai-d ; [t spoke in tones of melody that ange's might adore : — "Oh man to sorrow born thou art not all forlorn, One gaurdian spirit shelters thee, a friend for ever sure. By all the hopes that move thse, by the memories that reprove thee, Rise from the slavery of sloth, arouse thee I implore ; [Jnthougli trul noon-day dreamer, thou soulbewildeied schemer, Shake off the toils of indolence, thine own free wi'l restore." Then around me in the room re:>ied the silence of the totnb, b.B I wondered long, and vainly strove my soul to reassure ; For I darkly understood that an evil power and good, [Jntiringly within me would be warring evermore. iis a fellow under sentence, felt I dolorouß repentence, Peering back into the vista of the memories of yore ; 3o I rose and donned my raiment, and I vowel to make repayment For the days of godless indolence I'd squandered heretofore. And I teU this little Btory not for honor or for gloiy, But beacon-like I build it on a lone unhallowed shore ; Where Indolence hath thrown me, and Soirow, she hath known me, Hope's brightest vision flown me, perchance for evermore. And I versify my narrative by way of a preparative, For bringing in effectively a moral I've in store. Good reader, then, take warning, rise up early in the morning, And every day one sin the more i$ taken from your store. And a crime for ever rank it to be rolled in sheet or blanket When the sun is on your window and the milk* man at your door : 'Tis a most unhappy practice, and a failing which in fact is The source of all my troubles, as described heretofore. And furthermore, and lastly, I recommend you vastly, When distinguished looking spectres come and figure on your floor, To their ghostly intervention give the uttermost attention, That the good advice they mention be remembered evermore.
A Poor Relation. — Telling an anecdote badly. The Only Part of Speech a Scotchman Can't Decline.— The Verb— To Drink. When a young gentleman kisses a young lady, she very naturally says, " Oh, Dick, the idea ! " And he, also naturally, replies, " No, love j not the eye, dear ; but the cheek, dear." Which is perfectly true: A Scotchman asked an Irishman, "Why are farthings coinpd in England?" Pat's answer was this—-" To give Scotchmen an opportunity of subscribing to charitable institutions." 1 Thomas Mitchell, an eccentric old Scotch minister, in praying once for suitable harvest weather, expressed himself thus : — " Oh Lord, gie us nane o' your rantin', tantin, tearin' winds, but a thunnerin', dunnerin.', dryin' wind,"
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Tuapeka Times, Tuapeka Times, Volume I, Issue 20, 27 June 1868
Page 5 Advertisements Column 3 Tuapeka Times, Volume I, Issue 20, 27 June 1868
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