A Howl.

The Globe in the wrath Of its expiring BIT.
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The Globe in the wrath of its expiring bit.
reEpess, calls the Wings,


"W'etched, purchased, 5eguiied aud de-.
bauched Loafers.''


Howl on Frank Blair, and don't forget in
the agony of your braying, that your days of
lingering Treasury pap will soon be over.
s'oppress'd with grief, oppressed with care,
A burden more than can bear,


sit me down and sigh,
. life! thou art calling load,
A long, rough, weary road,


To wretches such as l!


Dim backward as cast my view,


What sick'ning scenes appear.
What sorrows yet may pierce me through
Zoo justly may fear. .''*-


lErd Blair, up San Rirer.