EXTRACT

Fyon, an unpublished Poem.
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...,.'4 from u't uHPttVtS"e~ ToeW' . -. ,, s,. BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. To those whose appetites love oysters. and Whose mouths are formed to swalluw, liveJ No more sublime and beautiful ot sights

 Than from the bay shore closest to Pachogue, To gaze on oysterlnen, as with their drags, They rake from ocean depths the shelly fish. r

 let deem not thou whom oysters may devour- Six to ,.?e shilling-always they are fresh; For often day by day, with shells agape, ,r.,, Their fate they lie awaiting. Then, the wight Who purchases aud strives to eat. will find Ills pese annoyed with perfumes not so bland As those which fit Der happy Arahy, .... la. And from lhe counter swift will haste away, ,a To sniff the freshness ot the outer air. ..,-

 Let those who would ayoidthis luckless fate, So smell. before the fish be deep engulphed, Ina, he deeayed ones may re jject, and thus ... Lie down to slumber at the evening hour. And dream, like ancient Pistol, that the world Is one great oyster for their ravenous maw.