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THE HASCHISH.

The preacher eats, and straight appears
His Bible in a new translation;
Its angels negro overseers,

And Heaven itself a snug plantation!

The man of peace, about whose dreams
The sweet millennial angels cluster,
Tastes the mad weed, and plots and schemes,
A raving Cuban filibuster!

The noisiest Democrat, with ease,
It turns to Slavery's parish beadle;
The shrewdest statesman eats and sees
Due southward point the polar needle.

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The Judge partakes, and sits ere long
Upon his bench a railing blackguard ;
Decides off-hand that right is wrong,
And reads the ten commandments backward

O, potent plant! so rare a taste

Has never Turk or Gentoo gotten;
The hempen Haschish of the East
Is powerless to our Western Cotton!

BALLADO

BALLADS.

MARY GARVIN.

FROM the heart of Waumbek Methna, from the lake that never fails,

Falls the Saco in the green lap of Conway's inter vales

There, in wild and virgin freshness, its waters foam and flow,

As when Darby Field first saw them, two hundred years ago.

But, vexed in all its seaward course with bridges, dams, and mills,

How changed is Saco's stream, how lost its freedom of the hills,

Since travelled Jocelyn, factor Vines, and stately Champernoon

Heard on its banks the gray wolf's howl, the trumpet of the loon !

With smoking axle hot with speed, with steeds of fire and steam,

Wide-waked To-day leaves Yesterday behind him like a dream.

Still, from the hurrying train of Life, fly backward far and fast

The milestones of the fathers, the landmarks of the

past.

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