[from the Newbers (N. C.) Progress.]
the Exportioner.
‘ Of all the various beasts of prey That thirst cody gore,
That sneak and prowl, relentiess stay,
Whose constant cry is more,
There's none like him whose craving maw,
Would fill his coffets by this war.
No beast, of which we ever read,
Would prey upon his like;
Whose craven heart, to feeling dead,
Would gainst his species strike;
It left to man, man's high estate,
To do the deed he'd execrate.
Aye, can it be — alas! 'its so--
All "Shylocks" are not dead--
There's those who wrieg the heart with woe,
That take the erphan's breat,
Whose moneyed might the poor oppress,
Who should reileve, but mere distress.
New is the time we all should strive
To do all god we can;
Not by our neighbors' sufferings thrive,
But help our fellow man;
And, in a measure thus requite.
Our being absent from the "fight."
But rest ensured, the heartless man,
The meaner than the beast,
Who speculates on what he can,
While others starve, to feast--
Mark what I say, believe it well--
He'll surely die and go to h — Ii.
’
