The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844: Volume 23, Number 6Various
General
The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844: Volume 23, Number 6
Various
Periodicals
Down that pale cheek, on that young head;
And round her neck he clings;
And child and mother murmur out
Unutterable things.
_He_ half unconscious, _she_ deep-struck
With sudden, solemn truth,
That number'd are her days on earth--
Her shroud prepared in youth:
That all in life her heart holds dear
GOD calls her to resign:
She hears, feels, trembles--but looks up,
And sighs 'THY will be mine!''
* * * * *
'I came down from Albany the other evening,' writes a correspondent, 'in
that floating palace, the KNICKERBOCKER steamer; I slept in your
KNICKERBOCKER state-room; arrived in town, I took after dinner a
KNICKERBOCKER omnibus, and rode up to the 'Westminster Abbey Bowling
Saloon,' named of KNICKERBOCKER; I called on you with my article for the
KNICKERBOCKER Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution
at the KNICKERBOCKER Bath; stepped into the KNICKERBOCKER Theatre, and
'laughed consumedly' over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup
of delicious tea, green and black, and anchovy-toast, at KNICKERBOCKER
Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was KNICKERBOCKER.' Very flattering;
yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this Magazine was the
_pioneer_ in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example
has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded.
Such, howbeit, is the undeniable fact. · · · We remarked the example of
_catachresis_ to which 'L.' alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say,
as heartily as himself. It was not quite so glaring however as the
confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: 'I smell a rat; I see it
brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!' · · · We find
several things to admire in our Detroit friend's '_Tale of Border
Warfare_;' but he can't 'talk Indian'--that is very clear. The 'abrogynes'
are not in the habit of making interminable speeches: they leave that to
white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day's speech 'for
Buncombe.' Do you remember what HALLECK says of RED-JACKET?
'The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches
The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;
And there's one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,
The secret of their mastery--_they are short_.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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