TO E. H. S.
117
And Sheriff Mosely 's run again,
They say, and been elected;
But I plod on with weary pen
And fancy sore dejected.
They say, and been elected;
But I plod on with weary pen
And fancy sore dejected.
You've "struck" the Texan road to fame;
Unknown no more you grovel;
In morning prints we read your name,
And wait your coming novel.
Unknown no more you grovel;
In morning prints we read your name,
And wait your coming novel.
But let me say in closing here,
If you e'er turn reviewer,
And my rough verses should appear,
Don't slay me with your skewer.
If you e'er turn reviewer,
And my rough verses should appear,
Don't slay me with your skewer.
But fill the bowl with "Temperance Mead,"
And let me drink your health, sir;—
Success to all who buy and read—
To you both fame and wealth, sir.
And let me drink your health, sir;—
Success to all who buy and read—
To you both fame and wealth, sir.
