Poetry: Go, feel what I have felt

New York, March L9, 1S41. Dr. M' Rcese: - After the meeting in Fowyth street, Monday evening, I was con. versing with a lady on the eubjects there discussed, when she told me I was almost a monomaniaö, in my hatred coalcholic drink; the folio wing verses were written to-day, as an excuse for my warmth. Please, Sir, obliga me by handing them to Mr. Hawkins, of the Baltimore delegation, requesting him to present them to bis daughter, a,s she also may be accused of the satne fault. Almiba. Go, feel what I have feit, Go, bear what I have borne; Sink 'neath a blow a father dealt, And the cold, proud world's scorn ; Thus struggleon ycar on year, Thy sole relief the scalding tear. Go, weep as I have wept, O'er a loved faUier's fall; See every cheri&hed promiseswept- Youth's sweetnci? turned to gal!; Hope's faded flower's strewed all the way That led me up to woman's day. Go, kneel, as I have knelt; Implore, beseech and pray, Strive the besotted heart to melt, The dowmvard course to stay - Be cast with bitter curse aside - Thy prayers burlesqued. - thy tears defied. Go, stand where I have stood, And see the strong man how: AVilh gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood, And cold and livid brow; Catch bis wandering glance, and see, There mirrorred, his soui's misery.Go, hear wbat I have heard - The sobs of sad despair- As memory feeling's fount hath Btirred, And its revealings there Have told him wbat he might have been Had he the drunkard's fate foreseen. Go to thy mother's side, And her crushed spirit cheer - [ Thine own deep anguish hide - Wipe from thy cheek the tear. Mark her dimmed eye ;Jier furrowed brow; Tbe gray that streaks her dark hair now - Her toil-worn frame - hertremblinglimb - And trace the ruin back to him Whose plighted faith, in early youtb, Proraised eterna] love and truth : But who, forsworn, hath yielded up This protniso to the deadly cup; And let her down, from love and light, From all that made her pathvvay bright. And chained her there 'mid want and strife, That lowly thing - a dmnkard's wife ! And etamped on childhood's brow, so mild, That witheringbüght - a drunkard's child! Go, hear, and see, andfeel, and know, All that my soul hath feit or knovvn, Then look within the wine-cup's glow - See if its brighlness can atonc: Think, if its flavor you would try, If all proclaimed, 'Tis drink and die. Teil me I hate the bowl- Hate it as a feeble word - I loathe - abhor - my very soul By strong disgust ie stirred Wheno'er I see, or hear, or feit, Of the dark beverage of heil!