Of these unhappy women with nothing to wear,

    Which, in view of the cash which would daily be claimed,

    The

     Laying-out

    Hospital well might be named?

    Won't Stewart, or some of our dry-goods importers,

    Take a contract for clothing our wives and our daughters?

    Or, to furnish the cash to supply these distresses,

    And life's pathway strew with shawls, collars and dresses,

    Ere the want of them makes it much rougher and thornier,

    Won't some one discover a new California?

    O! ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day,

    Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,

    From its swirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride

    And the temples of Trade which tower on each side,

    To the alleys and lanes, where Misfortune and Guilt

    Their children have gathered, their city have built;

    Where Hunger and Vice, like twin beasts of prey,

    Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair;

    Raise the rich, dainty dress, and the fine broidered skirt,

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