SELECTED POETRY.

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From the Ladies’ Literary Cabinet.
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THE BLIND MOTHER.
I saw a mother! in her arms
Her infant child was sleeping;
The mother, while the infant slept,
Her guardian watch was keeping.
Around its little tender form
Her snow-white arms were flung;
And o’er its little infant head,
Her bending tresses hung.
“Sleep sweetly on, my darling babe,
My own, my darling child;”
And as she spoke the infant woke,
And on its mother smil’d.
But oh! no fondly answering smile,
The mother’s visage grac’d,
For she was blind and could not see
The infant she embrac’d.
But now he lisp’d his mother’s name,
And now the mother press’d
Her darling, much lov’d baby boy,
Upon her widow’d breast.
But sudden anguish seiz’d her mind,
Her Voice was sweetly wild:
”My God,” she cried, “but grant me
sight,
One hour to see my child!
“To look upon his cherub face,
And see its father’s there;
But pardon, if the wish be wrong,
A widow’d mother’s prayer!”
And as she spoke, her anguish grew
More louder and more wild,
And closer to her aching breast,
She clasp’d her orphan child.

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From the Winyan Intelligencer.
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The following parody is from a friend in Charleston, and presents a good picture of the times.

What’s this dull town to me?
No cash is here!
Things that we used to see
Now don’t appear.
Where’s all the paper bills,
Silver dollars, cents and mills?
Oh! we must check our wills;
No cash is here.
What made the city shine?
Money was here.
What makes the lads repine?
No cash is here.
What makes the players sad,
Factors crazy, merchants mad?
Oh! times are very bad;
No cash is here.
Oh! curse upon the banks;
No credit’s there.
They issue nought but blanks,
No cash is there.
Hard times, the men cry,
Hard times, the women sigh;
Ruin and mis-e-ry;
No cash is here!

ROBERT.

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