I hear even now the infinite sweet chorus, The laugh of ecstacy, the merry tone, That through the evenings that have gone before us In long reverberations reach our own. From round-faced Germans come the guttural voices, Through curling _moustache_ steals the Italian clang, And, loud amidst their universal noises, From distant corners sounds the Yankee twang. I hear the Editor, who from his office Sends out his paper, filled with praise and puff, And holy priests, who, when they warn the scoffers, Beat the fine pulpit, lined with velvet stuff. The tumult of each _saqued_, and charming maiden, The idle talk that sense and reason drowns, The ancient dames with jewelry o’erladen, And trains depending from the brocade gowns―― The pleasant tone, whose sweetness makes us wonder, The laugh of gentlemen, and ladies, too, And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of some lady blue,―― Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, With pastimes so ridiculous as these, Thou drownest Nature’s sweet and kindly voices, And jarrest the celestial harmonies? Were half the wealth that fills the world with ladies, Were half the time bestowed on caps and lace, Given to the home, the husbands, and the babies, There were no time to visit such a place. _Poems and Parodies._ By Phœbe Carey (Ticknor, Reed, and Fields). Boston, United States, 1854. [Illustration] The following old parody was written in imitation of the hexameters of _Evangeline_:―― DOLLARINE; A TALE OF CALIFORNIA. A FRAGMENT IN HEXAMETERS. BY PROFESSOR W. H. LONGANDSHORTFELLOW, _Of Cambridge, Connecticut_.