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nothing III t-- And the world bears--poor world, how it

 doth rue it- Books crowd upon it, fresh from out the

 mint, And very nearly of the valuation Of below par July fourth oration. And there are stanzas full of prettinesses, After the fashion ofLeigh, Hunt and Co., And ancient thought, served up in bran-

 new dresses And fre-dy sparks that once in Moore did

 glow Horrors whose parontage Lord B. con

 fesses, Yet altered till their sire them scarce

 could know And epigrams and lines, and pretty som

 nets, To ladies stockings, rings, and curls, and

 bonnets. Not that the sin lies wholly on our side Of the Atlantio-no, the costly things That every year sends to us OCT the tide, Have as much borrowed lustre on their

 wings, As any Souvenir that gives US pride, And Mrs. Cornwall Baron Wilson sings Much like mocking bird, whose Iustrous

 notes Are caught and stolen from its fellows

 throats. No Shakespeare. Byron, Shelley, can we Our owu--but we can boast a name or two Equal to some of England's spirits tall- We have some stars--indeed we have a

 few Although our mountains 5e not quite as

 tall-- Our streams as large, our upper heaven as

 blue, As those that God so generously lent, At making of the nobIer, better continent. Let not John Bull ba angry now at this-- My dear John Bull!--we have in fact some

 poets, Altho' thing not to be thought of, 'tis That one so dignifed as you should know You EngIishmen too regal are I wis, To read our books, and then plead guilty

 to 1t, And we have nought that you could deign

 to mention, Nought that could claim John Bulls au-

 gust attention. And modesty's excluded from the creed Of your true Englishman--nothing' like

  Hts towns--his books--eyen an English

 weed outshlnes the flower that yankee winds

 have famed And any Englishman that knows to read The Psalter-Walker-Murray' reader, The Quarterly, is match for any one Whom only yankee skies have shone upon. He yield the palm of knowledge ge!-not he To any man simply AmeTicau-- A. B.-A. M.--M. D. or l.. l.. D. An English cobbler's intellect can span Any American sand as to me, am afraid lest quarrel fan, By saying that we have bard or two, Beneath the influences of our skies that

 grew. have no time for critiques now at all, Or for dlscussion-- take name or two Halleck, Sands, Bryant, Dana, Perciyal, Pierpont, Neal, Wiliis-names not strange

 or new, Rent, Leggett, Hillhouse, Brooks, nor

 these are all For women lend their names Parnassas to- Sigonrney, Brooks, Hale, Smith and many

 more, Some living praised, some dead whom we

 aSPiOASs As for the smaller fry, Heaven give them

 bread! And grant the world patience, theirrhymes

 withal-- Their milk and water lines you'll see out

 spread in divers newspapers both great and small, By whose sage editors these wights are fed With pap of praise for each astounding

 scrawl, In Souvenirs and annuals, and such Eternal things that time can never touch. Here you shall see one sit and make his M lay The dandy poet and the ladys man, The favorite of fashion, and the day He rhymes of wo and life's monotonous

 span, And hearts for woe grown sere, and heads

 grown gray,