Rhode Island American, Statesman And Providence Gazette

MISCELLANY.
[FROM THE N. Y. EVENING POST.]
PETITION TO F. G. HALLECK, ESQ.
Halleck, thou know'st me not, but I know thee,
Or know thy music, which is the same thing;
They could not palm another's verse on me
For thine, I know thy voice when thou dost sing,
And can detect thy strain as easily
As our own robins in the time of spring;
Though we see not the bird, we know the note
Which comes in mellow richness from his throat.
I've stood with thee upon Weehawken's height,
Gazed on the wondrous beauty pictured there
Have soared with thee in thy unwearied flight,
And breathed aloft the same inspiring air,
Till I forget myself, and on my sight
Came all in nature grand, in fancy fair.
Lured by thy voice the wretch to sorrow given
Foregoes his grief, and dreams awhile of heaven.
Thy "Croakers"—they are treasured in my mind;
Thy "Alnwick Castle" with my choice things laid ;
"Fanny" some ruffian stole, but I can't find
It in my heart to chide him; he displayed
So good a taste, it were almost unkind
To say one word about it: but it made
"My very heart to ache," when first I thought
That gem was lost, which I of Carvill bought.
I roamed through Broadway, on a night as dark
As that which erst enshrouded Egypt's land;
The rain came down as when within the ark
Was housed of old that Heaven protected band;
And not a single wight did it mark,
Who dared, like me, the tempest to withstand.
The bookmen said, "Your search, there's madness in't,
Fanny has long, long since been out of print."
I know 'tis sacrilege in me to twine
A wreath for thee : thou art beyond my praise
As far as is the polar from the line
Or heaven from earth, or thine above my lays:
Thou dwell'st alone —a thing almost divine—
And long hast worn the poet's well earned bays.
Yet heed, I pray thee, this my first petition—
Grant us of "Fanny," now, a third edition.
VIATOR.