Martinsburg Gazette And Public Advertiser

From the New-York Statesman.

A WORD TO THE DISSIPATED HUSBAND.

Look up! O taste not the bowl
Again, nor dream of pleasure there,
Which, while it lulls, destroys the soul,
And deeper sinks it in despair.

'Tis but to paint a blacker sky,
To add to cloudy darkness,--night
To give another agony
To the fresh thought of crushed delight.

When from the world's mad revelry,
When from the oblivion of an hour,
Thou wak'st, the cup of misery
Is thine, and mem'ry's crushing power,

Then turn again, and feel for them
Who long have felt and wept for thee;
Nor take away that priceless gem,
Thy soul's best light that used to be:

The smile of happiness from one,
Whose heart with thine is so entwined
That what disturbs thy soul alone
Can give an anguish to her mind.

Art thou a husband, and canst look
Back on the past nor feel a sting;
Have heaven and fondness thee forsook,
That thou canst feel no sorrow!

Canst thou forget the heart that turned
To thee in all its woe or bliss;
And which still burns, as then it burn'd,
With all its young, warm faithfulness

O turn again! and in those eyes,
Perchance, where woe his vigil has set,
The light of better days will rise,
And her last bloom may flourish yet

Yes, in that cheek where nature first
In all her earliest witchery shone,
The rosy flush again may burst,
And life and bliss be all her own.