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TO DOMESTIC PEACE.
“Malbrook s’en va-t-en guerre.”
h, Peace! ascend again thy throne,
Resume the spotless olive-leaf,
Display thy snowy muslin gown,
And wave o’er this distracted town
Thy cambric pocket-handkerchief!
Or, if thou dost not like the dress
(We own we have our doubts upon it),
Come like some pretty Quakeress,
And let thine orbs of quietness
Shine, dove-like, from a satin bonnet!
We need thee, row-abhorring maid!
The dogs of party bark alarms,
And e’er the Battery tax is laid,
And e’er the next election’s made,
E’en Murray’s Guards will rush to arms.
Feds, Coodies, Bucktails,38 all in flame,
With peals of nonsense frighten thee;
