NEW FEARS ADDRESS.
{"newspaper_name": "The Litchfield County post.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
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 Genius of Bantam wake the Tyre,

 And tune it to satiric strains; q No tones of sentiment belong

 In winter, to the Litchfeld Swains. Haply, thy summer sky may warm

 Embryos of poesy to life,- But, nipt by thy eternal frost, .1 They perish ere the germ blooms rife. Send words,ye Powers! give aidye sprites !! What theme will inspiration bring,- Since art by frost is killd outright,

 And natures dormant until spring! op!-since I'm writing for the T'o'cn, I'll scan the features of the place, As poets, painting ladies, try

 To find the beauties of the face.- Lucky for me, din'd but now ;-

 When, slipping port, and eating grouse, A subject came to me-'twas our

 Decapitated meeting house,. Shrine ofmy fathers! sacred fane! For what thou hast done art thou spar'd How long at thee shall ,comen rail.

 Men be made mad, and strangers scar'd B And tell me. if thou canst, pray,

 (Thy tongue is long enough, trowD Tell me the order of thy dome,-

 When 1t was built, or why, or how. Oh, that the whirlwind's rage would fall Upon thy venerable site !- Or, that a certain .Jfre had come

 But one hour later in the night! But why waste words upon theme

 Soemean as thou, thou shingled wonder? When we've fresh water streams and lakes, Though bound in ice, with pickerel under! Ay, and horse-boat too, guess

 Mov'd by one charger o'er the brinc;* Who, with one bright exception, has

 Padded the folks home before nine. Long may'st thou float, Equestrian Bark Tho now confn'd in frost's emhargO:- :-- But, as thou lov'st the old-folks' grace,

 Ne.er ground again female cargo. But hold bacltopsail, if you please,

 The pond for me is all too deep, And must hasten with my song,

 Or l may sing the folks to sleep. Speaking of singing-have you read

 John Quincy's laundering long letter, Bout gloom tosglory," and all that?

 Show me the man can write better! And have you heard, as how, that Congress Have burnt their fingers with molasses? And goug'd us out of rum and sugar,

 Coffee and pepper, the Jack-asses! And folks do say that Bolivar

 Has fool'd the knowing-o -oncs at last; And roguery is more the go

 The present year, than ages past. Look at the London of our land !- Fen honest men there play the rogue !- Defrauding banks, and shaving Greeks

 With frigatcs, now is quite in vogue. But from such scenes we turn away To bless ,our haOpv native land: