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 McMahon, for libeller of our n.,., Gallantry and poetry!l aMa ,'sl'' .s truth, sir, as you well know ,.. .Vas' yielded the palm of gallaatyy ta S A' Poetry.-why, sir, BORDEN. of you Laureate of the editorial corps of -' d' certainly intitleo tc the credit ae AiSals Whether he found it among the .s q p' u' rlcan poets-among the " old'' or tbs 1asls s ed sook," to us; as we have neva' ,s ase to pasture the poney of our i,.s ~ nad Elysian fields of Poesie." IJnt;1 accurate directions to their trne ..' n0N our innocence, supposed these l;ps classieally say "is right hard to ,n's ha of delicate saft sawder,'o wo.o Dsa' chorus to that exquisite sonnet ,.,. 7, las4 "1Ae Ma'd of ouithlacoochee;;. and ,s VI. Ole' ing pathos, sang to us one ~ mooa, "aS remember that evening, Jesse, nigl1 thou ever forget! The whole CO.,. VT l'S all its witching incidents of siabt .a, now before us The slightly eibboa' ~ ing down perfect shower of r;cb q' n 'l' from the deep blue of a clouala.s 9 l" Father of waters" sweeping rs.. with its turbid and resistless. : vat t st. ' the balmy breath of sweet sontb flaming us into gentle reverie, and a.' '''A stirring the ebon curls which ehs,sa s'''S temples! Amid this spirit sootbinr .'' ss. tender recollections unlocked thy be.,t r' 2 seated on bale of Cotton, thy ripbt !. on the wstch-pocket of thy vest, ,hs a' z pointing to the South, and thy tearfn1 2 to the Moon, when thy soul poured ,,'a song; part of which we remenber :. <,

 To THE MAID OF oulrn1.eoa,a''

 '' You may think beautiful girl. ''

 That l will cease to love theel

 Oh! beautiful maid, have more co,s,.

 Cease to love thee yes I nay,

 When midnight darkness turns to l.

 Cease to love thee yes I can.

 When oceans waters turn to lan.

 Cease to love thee! yes will.

 When this fond heart in death is sin Now, Jesse, supply the remainder, vii. forgotten; publish the whole for tbe .r. love-sick swains and be sure to send m.