52. LII.
WAILETH.
Church uv the Noo Dispensashun, }
May the 16th, 1864.
To the Churchis: A clamity hez befallen us!
Lee is whald. This afflickshen hez bin sent for
sum good perpus. We hev not bin fatheful, and
hev bin chastizd. O, how we must hev neglectid
our dootis, to hev brot this upon us! Hev
we resistid drafts ez we shood? Hev we bin instant,
in seezn and out uv seezn, in killin niggers?
Hev we used doo dillygense in mobbin hetrodox
Churches? For these and uther short-cumins we
are now payin. The follerin sam uv hoomiliashen
will be chantid on the sekund Sundy uv
Joon, in all the Churchis in my dyocese:
A WALE!
Lift up yer voices mournfly, O my peeple!
Howl, O ye saints! howl like unto the hungry
wolf, and the disapinted jackal.
Cry out like wun who hath a grate pane—like
him who suffreth with belly-ake.
Cast ashes upon yer hed, O Fernandywood, and
clothe yerself in sack-cloth.
Hev anuther coleckshun taken up, O Vallandigum,
and pay yer board a yere or 2 in advanse,
for yer exel is lengthend.
Weep and wale, and nash yer teeth, O Dimokrasy,
for yoo hev bin measured, and yer coffin ordered,
and the day uv yer funeral apinted; and,
lo! the corpse will be reddy.
For the biter hez bin bit; yea, the strong man
hez bin overkum.
Grant, who wuz to hev bin whipt, wuz not
whipt; on the contrary, quite the reverse.
And Lee, him we sot our harts upon, hez bin
beeten, and grate hez bin the slawter uv his host.
And Beest Butler will take Richmond, and will
not be hangd, ez we prayd.
And the Confedracy will be strangled, and
Linkin will be President, and the offisis will be
lost to us forever and forever.
Uv wat avale to us wuz Fort Piller, or Plymuth,
or Red River? Lo! they were but fleabites
on the back uv a giant.
For in Verginny hev we bin chawd up, egrejisly.
And our week-kneed wuns, them ez wantid peece
last month, hev bekum blud-thirsty, and hooroar
for Linkin.
Wale, ye saints!
For we hev chained ourselves to a corpse, and
the corpse stinketh.
Die, O Micklellan, for yoo woodent sell at the
rate uv a dollar a dozen, ef playd-out genrals wuz
in demand.
Thou, too, O Vallandigum, for yer marterdum
woodent win.
Steel wiggerusly, O Fernandywood, for it 's yer
last chance.
For wen the grate Sowth fiddled, did we not
alluz dance? and now that she dieth, shel we not
go and do likewise? †Petroleum.
I am well-nigh distractid! For forty years the
Dimekratik party hez bin 2 me, litterally, wittles
and drink. For forty years hez it been my
pleezin and profitable dooty to leed a Dimekratik
flock, livin luxyoorisly off uv the sheerins. My
dreme is ore. In a few short munths ther won't
be no Dimokrasy, and wat then? I aint adaptid
to no other party. Wunst I undertook to pass
myself orf ez a Republikin, at wun uv ther convenshuns.
“My jentle frend,” did wun uv them remark,
skanning my jigantik noze, wich is the beauty and
glory uv my face, “my jentle frend, art thou wun
uv us?”
“Verily, am I,” sez I.
“Well,” sez he, looking at my noze agin, “ef
yoo wuz in my township, and wantid to act with
us, I shood reqwire bonds.”
I mite start a grocery, but ef the Dimekratik
party expires, wat 'll that biznis be worth?
In my old age am I bereevd.
In tribelashen,
Petroleum V. Nasby,
Paster uv sed Church, in charge.
