THE FRENCH MESSAGE.
(FROM THE “LEA.”)
with a melancholy interest observes,
That this war and its sad consequences paralyse the nerves
Of Industry and Commerce, so that energy is dead;
For her factories are silent, though her people cry for bread.
The courage of the combatants there’s no one can gainsay:
All fought with equal bravery save those who ran away,
With the blood-stained balance equal now, it something might avail
Should another Gaul like Brennus
, fling his sword into the scale.
We must overlook the petty crew of continental kings,
The potentates whose revenue the gaming-table brings,
And constitute ourselves the foremost leasers of advance,
It’s quite time this wholesale slaughter should provisionally cease:
Let us bind them over jointly for six months to keep the peace.
It is likely at our jurisdiction they will only laugh,
But we shall have done our duty on Humanity's behalf.
I invite you those considerations duly to present
Of the two respective Governments, and tell them if you please,
Can readily imagine what must palpably ensue;
It will set the North
about our ears, and then, if you’ll but aid,
A couple of our ironsides will smash up the blockade.
As from you I have no secrets, now the blessed truth I’ll tell:
And he has promised, for the South
that if for them I go
They will not oppose the monarchy I mean for Mexico
THE ENGLISH REPLY.
On my official ease,
And read me a long rigmarole
He says the War has raged and roared
For upwards of a year;
The soldier leant upon his sword
And wiped away a tear.
He tells us, on our industry
Misfortune seems to lower.
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour.
He insinuates, the fellows
A great deal of blood have shed;
But he quite forgot to tell us
He fancies ‘twould be proper for
The Powers to combine:
She’s all my fancy painted her,
She’s lovely, she’s divine.
He thinks it’s time to stop the row,
But we can’t see it yet:
There’s no one left to love me now,
And you too may forget.
To day, quite well behaves:
He helped us in the “Trent affair:”
To ask them to lay down their arms
Just in the battle’s heat,
Our instinct of fair play alarms;
Pray how is your poor feet.
We’ll wait; such madness to appease
There’s no efficient plan;
So you may read this to Lhuys
Or any other man.
And if with its true meaning
We may choose to have a tussell,
Explain it to him if you can;
has his eye teeth cut,
The world can plainly see;
I'm a young man from the Country; but,
You can’t get over me.