She kept an album, too, at home, Well fill'd with all an album's glories; Paintings of butterflies and Rome, Patterns for trimming, Persian stories; Soft songs to Julia's cockatoo, Fierce odes to famine and to slaughter; And autographs of Prince Laboo, And recipes of elder water. And she was flatter'd, worship'd, bored, Her steps were watch'd, her dress was noted, Her poodle dog was quite adored, Her sayings were extremely quoted. She laugh'd, and every heart was glad, As if the taxes were abolish'd; She frown'd, and every look was sad, As if the opera were demolishd. She smil'd on many just for fun-- I knew that there was nothing in it; I was the first the only one Her heart thought of for a minute; I knew it, for she told me so, In phrase which was divinely molded; She wrote a charming hand, and oh! How sweetly all her notes were folded! Our love was like most other loves-- A little glow, a little shiver; A rosebud and a pair of gloves, And "Fly Not Yet," upon the river; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows--and then we parted. We parted--months and years roll'd by; We met again for summers after; Our parting was all sob and sigh-- Our meeting was all mirth and laughter; For in my heart's most secret cell, There had been many other lodgers; And she was not the ball-room belle, But only Mrs.--Something--Rogers. SORROWS OF WERTHER. W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And for all the wealth of Indies, Would do nothing for to hurt her. So he sighed and pined and ogled, And his passion boiled and bubbled. Till he blew his silly brains out, And no more was by it troubled. Charlotte, having seen his body Borne before her on a shutter, Like a well-conducted person, Went on cutting bread and butter. THE YANKEE VOLUNTEERS. W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. ["A surgeon of the United States army says, that on inquiring of the Captain of his company, he found THAT NINE-TENTHS of the men had enlisted on account of some female difficulty."]--Morning Paper. Ye Yankee volunteers! It makes my bosom bleed When I your story read, Though oft 'tis told one. So--in both hemispheres The woman are untrue, And cruel in the New, As in the Old one! What--in this company Of sixty sons of Mars, Who march 'neath Stripes and Stars, With fife and horn, Nine tenths of all we see Along the warlike line Had but one cause to join This Hope Folorn? Deserters from the realm Where tyrant Venus reigns, You slipped her wicked chains, Fled and out-ran her. And now, with sword and helm, Together banded are Beneath the Stripe and Star- embroidered banner!