Hide Article Text (OCR)
—r«m TUB MUMHONUM.TIIE NEW ENGLAND DOUGHNUT,UBaPBCTIULLY DKim.ATI’.U TO MUM J. p.How sweet to remember the hours when we lingered,Beside the bright glow of our fund father's hearth, Ere lime the destroyer—the cold iron fingered— Had traced his deep lines un the fairest of earth. When the wind whistles shrill on the desolate moor, And the snow sweeps in light fleecy curls on the hill,What thoughts like the thoughts of those moments allure,And make the past glitter more beautiful still. When round the old tabic in pleasure were seated, The bright rosy children and parents so bland, While smoking before them their glad eyes were greeted,With the pile of huge Doughnuts, the pride of the land.The New England Doughnut—The rich smoking Doughnut—The brown twisted Doughnut, the pride of the land.The rainbow of fancy o'er visions of childhood,In colors as bright us tlie colors of morn,Throws Its arch, everlasting, as that o'er the wild-wood,When westward, at evening, the storm king has gone.The dell in the grove,where the wild berry blushing, Awoke our young bosoms to childish delight;The hill-side, where oftlrom his airy height rushing,To feed on the fly, came the hawk of the night.The one's who went with' us to share in our pleasure,All, all in the brightness of yesterday stand,And ayejbeamlng brighter, that tear-drying treasure, The New England Doughnut, the pride of the land. The rich smoking Doughnut—The brown twisted Doughnut—The New England Doughnut, the pride of the land.Oh oft can I .see the wild truant at morning,With basket pursuing his pathway to school;Now stopping to play notwithstanding the warning, Of him the sole monarch of birch, briar and rule. And now while the blow of correction is falling,And pain makes the sufferer roar in his might, What joy cheers his soul 'inid that moment appalling,And sheds o'er his face such gleams of delight 7 Ay, then he remembers the balm that reposes, Within the snug basket that sits on the stand,And the thorns ol the briar are transformed intoroses,By the New England Dougnnut, the pride of the land.The brown twisted Doughnut—His mother's sweet Doughnut—The rich bursting Doughnut, the pride of the land.On the bright burning sands of the deserts of horror, Where the Arab aud Camel roam lordsuf the waste, Where day brings destruction and night broods in sorrow,And nature blooms not for the vision or taste:0 The hardy New Englander weary and wounded,'I Afar from the shores of his dearly loved home,\ When cast by the wave and hy robbers surrounded,And made to regret his escape from the wave:— p Or, thirdingand starving 'mid billows commotion,[ Afar from a sail and afar from the land,Remembers with rapture on desert or ocean,The New England Doughnut, the pride of the land. i ne richly made Dongnnut—The mouth-melting Doughnut—The New England Doughnut, the pride of the land.J. E. D.Washington, December, 1838.
Newspaper Details
The Madisonian
Washington, Washington-DC, US
Sat, Dec 22, 1838
Page 1
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 26 Sep 2024
Other Publications Near Washington, Washington-DC
Washington American Eagle
Washington National Intelligencer
Washington Globe
District of Columbia Evening Star
Washington Garfield Memorial
