The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 182

NEW-YORK.

_MARRIED,_

By the Rev. Mr. King, Mr. JOHN M'CARTHY, of Johnstown, to Miss ELIZA KER, daughter of the Rev. Nathan Ker, of Goshen, Ulster County.

By the Rev. Mr. O'Brien, Mr. CASIMIR DELAVIGNE, merchant, of this city, to Miss EMILIA GUIBERT, late of Port-au-Prince.

On Tuesday, se'nnight, at Bedford, on Long-Island, by the Rev. Dr.

Livingston, JOHN I. JOHNSON, Esq. to Miss HANNAH LOUDON, both of this city.

On Wednesday evening last, by the Rev. Samuel Provoost, Mr. ALEXANDER S.

MILLER, to Miss MARY ROGERS, both of this city.

_METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From the 21st to the 27th inst._

THERMOMETOR observed at 6, _A.M._ 3, _P.M._ Prevailing winds.

OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER.

deg. deg. 6. 3. 6. 3.

100 100 May 21 57 70 se. do. foggy clear calm lt. wd.

22 60 72 nw. w. clear do. lt. wd.

23 56 65 se. do. clear do. calm h. wd.

24 54 66 e. do. cly. clear calm lt. wd.

25 54 69 e. do. cly. lt. w. clear do. ra.

26 55 71 n. s. clear lt. wd. do. do.

27 55 62 e. se. clear lt. wd. cly. h. wd.

STANZAS TO HOPE.

Oh, Hope! thou balm of human woes, Oh! come, and lull my soul to rest; Thy form can soothe me to repose, 'Tis thou canst calm my troubled breast.

Thou bright illusion of the mind, Thou jewel to the human kind; Without thy aid, man's life would be A long, long scene, of mis'ry!

'Tis thou that art the wretch's stay, When ev'ry comfort droops away; Thy friendly voice can bear him up, Though doom'd to drink Woe's bitt'rest cup.

When the sad Pilgrim, with worn feet, Longs, yet despairs, his friends to greet; 'Tis then thy heav'nly soothing ray, Renews his steps, and chears his way.

When the poor Mariner, at sea, Views black'ning tempests round him flee; Thy friendly aid points out the sh.o.r.e, Where tempests cease, and storms are o'er.

When the tir'd Soldier, on the plain, Sees battle rage, and thousands slain; Thou bidd'st his care and anguish cease, And bring'st the welcome sound of peace.

When the poor Captive, in his cell, Is doom'd in chearless gloom to dwell, Thy angel Vision sets him free; Thou giv'st him life, with liberty.

Yet not to earth's contracted spot, Thy boundless power can be confin'd; For our's would be the hardest lot, Should all our views be here resign'd.

If in this life was all our hope, Then wretched were, indeed, our doom; But happy we, that thou can'st ope A realm of bliss beyond the tomb.

When earth's short pilgrimage is o'er, When this world's charms can please no more; When life's last pulse throbs in the heart, And Death has aim'd his fatal dart--

'Tis then, in heav'nly robes array'd, Thou art the dying Christian's aid; He views, through thy celestial eye, The dawn of immortality.

ON SEEING A MISER AT A CONCERT.

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, To calm the tyrant and relieve th' opprest: The enticing Concert's more attractive pow'r, Unlock'd a Miser's pocket at threescore: O strange effect of music's matchless force, To extract a dollar from a full stown purse.

THE CLOWN AND THE LAWYER.

HOB visited BRIEF, with a very long face, Put a piece in his palm, and then stated his case.

Quoth the Lawyer--"As far as I _yet_ understand, You are right as my nail, I declare _by this hand_: But doctors oft differ; so, were you my brother, I can't answer, till _that_ too be _fee'd_, for the _other_.

Then spreading his hand, like a churchwarden's plate, "Come, come, my good friend, don't stand scratching your pate!

But _wet t'other eye_, like a fool, as you ought, Time's too precious for me thus to waste it for mought."

Says HOB--"Here's the stuff! but, as I am a ninny, I'm handing thee, now, Master BRIEF, my _last_ guinea; So I hopes as you'll give me the best of advice!"-- "To be sure! to be sure!" cries BRIEF, "in a trice.

Then, know, that those words which I last heard you say, Have driv'n all at first that I told you away.

No matter what Cause, or what Lawyer, or Court, Gold! Gold! my friend HOB, is of all the support: With that, to each point of the compa.s.s we rove; Without it, the devil a _limb_ of us move!

Ev'ry hope that I had, with your money, is gone; Your cause is a bad one, and you are undone.

To _stand on_ you hav'n't, as we say, _a leg_; And no Lawyer, in England, for you'll stir a peg."

HOB look'd mighty sheepish, and mutter'd a curse, As he saw Lawyer BRIEF put the cash in his purse.

"What you tells me," he cried, as he slowly withdrew, "I fears, Master BRIEF, may, for _once_, be too _true_: But if I durst tell thee a piece of _my_ mind, Tho' I _have_ been main _foolish_, I a'n't yet quite _blind_; And you _Limbs_ of the _Law_, I now sees very plain, Be all, as a body may say, _rogues in grain!_ Yes, ecod! had I know half I now know before, I'd as soon enter'd h.e.l.l, Master BRIEF, as your door; And I wish I may suffer, with you, h.e.l.l's worst pain, If ever I visit a Lawyer again!"

SOCIAL EVENINGS.

I LOVE not, at peep of day, To chase, with dogs, a timid prey; My heart is rather p.r.o.ne to spare, The stately stag, the harmless hare: For, with a faithful, gen'rous friend, I would my Social Evenings spend.

Lur'd by the chearful Noontide-heat, When insects quit their lone retreat; I would not that a worm should dread The ruin of my heedless tread: For, with a faithful, gen'rous friend, I would my Social Evenings spend.

Thus, when Night draws her curtain round.

May I be ne'er with maniacs found; Who, to forget their guilty day, Must wash reflection all away!

For, with a faithful, gen'rous friend, I would my Social Evenings spend.