"Well, it is well if it must be so: Woman the slave and man the lord; She the scissors to cut the threads After the darning, and he the sword. "Was it for this I played my cards, Tuned the piano's tender din, Cherished a delicate health, and ate Pickles and pencils to make me thin? "Better it were to be born a serf, Holding a soul by a master's lease; Better than learning Society's law, Gaining a Husband and forfeiting peace. "Mortimer sighs as he sees me dance, Percy is sad as he passes by, Herbert turns pallid beneath my glance; All of them married--and so am I. "Well, if the world must have it so, Woman can only stand and endure; Ever the grossness of all that is gross Rises the tyrant of all that is pure. "Marriage, they say, is a sacred thing; So is the fetter that yields a smart. Give _one_ crumb to the starving wretch, And give _one_ Object to Woman's Heart. "Claude, they tell me, should own my love; Well, I have loved him nearly a week; Looking at one man longer than that Grows to be tiresome--so to speak. "What if he calls me Angel wife; Angels are not for the One to win; Yet is my passionate love like theirs,-- Theirs is a love taking all men in. "Hops the canary 'neath the wires, Speaks the canary not a word; When to my heart the chill has struck, How can I sing?--can ary bird?" [5] The measure of this striking poem is Owenmeredithyrambic. Let us mingle our tears, my boy, in a gruel of compassion, as we conjointly reflect upon this affecting revelation of Woman's Heart. On Thursday last, my architectural steed, the gothic Pegasus, conveyed me once more, by easy stages, to the outskirts of Paris, where I found the aged and respectable Mackerel Brigade cleaning their spectacles and writing their epitaphs preparatory to that celebrated advance upon the well-known Southern Confederacy which is frequently mentioned in ancient history. The Grim Old Fighting Cox, my boy, has rashly determined, that the unfavorable weather shall not detain our national troops another single year, and there is at last a prospect that our grandchildren may read a full and authentic report of the capture of Richmond in the reliable morning journals of their time. And here let me say to the grandchild Orpheus: "Be sure, my boy, that you do not permit your pardonable exultation at the triumph of your country's arms, to make you too severe upon the conquered foes of the Republic." I put in this little piece of advice to posterity, my boy, because I desire to have posterity magnanimous.