To-Day and Yesterday [pp. 192]

To-Day and Yesterday.
Prince, "it was His Majesty's hour for
dining, and he loves the pleasures of the
table quite too well to postpone them
even for the enjoyment of agreeable
company. Could antythinig have detained
him, doubtless the society of his noble
foreign visitors, with the combined attractions of the bright eyes and enchanting smiles of these fair American ladies,
would have occasioned that result, but
His Majesty never varies the time of his
collations, and would not, I suppose, if his
palace were on fire, or a beleaguering foe
beating down the city gates!"
This was, of course, satisfactory to the
guests, who taking leave of their noble
friend, politely withdrew to their own
homes, and the comfortable afternoon
siesta that there awaited them, leaving
Charlottesville, Va., August 22nd, 1857.
His Masjesty to the u ninterrupted enjoyment of his repast, and the very comfortable degree of self-complacency with
which he was doubtless contemplating
the effect on the minds of the foreigners,
which the recent wondrous display had
produced.
In like manner we bid our readers a
cheerful bon soir, and take, for the
present, a willing leave of the subject of
Siamese Court Levees, with their' attendant forms and ceremonies.
Our next number will contain some details of Budhism, with its origin and requirements, and will conclude with a
brief review of some of the more popular
superstitions founded on the religious
creed of this interesting people. And
now au revoir.
TO-DAY AND YESTERDAY.
BY AMIE.
Yesterday was like a bower;
Everywhere sweet roses twinedMusic gushed in every breeze,
Incense freighted every wind.
Beauty oped the gates at morn,
Glory filled the noonday air;
Golden vistas stretched away
To enchanted regions fair.
At the gorgeous sunset's close,
Splendor'struggling with decayRainbows spanned the dreamy void
'Twixt to-day and yesterday.
But to-day the boughs are bare,
And the winds are hoarse and chill;
Mournful shadows veil the sun,
Black clouds overhang the hill.
Blight has settled on the rose,
Every dew-drop is a tear;
Silence seems a fitful moan
Stifled back in wildest fear.
Not a lark to herald morn Not one gleaming twilight ray;
Strange how wintry blight crept in
'Twixt to-day and yesterday!
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