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SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE:
H’M. C. RICHARDS, EDITOR.
Original Poctrii.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
“ OH ! BURY HIM QUICKLY
A BALLAD.
BY W . GILMORE SIMMS, ESQ.,
author of* guy rivers,’ ‘yemassee,’ ‘atalantis,’ &c.
• I.
Oh! bury him quickly, and utter no word
Os the memory sadden’d by sorrow so long ;
But when the cold stranger shall say that he err’d,
Then tell the dark tale of his crueller wrong.
We may not approve, but when others condemn,
’T were crime that defence of his heart to forbear,
And show that his faults were all prompted by them,
—They could goad him to danger— then tly from
him there.
ii.
You saw him for many long days ere he fell,
In chains, and in solitude, sad but serene ;
‘Tis grateful to know that he battled it well,
While his spirit grew strong in the gloom of the
scene.
They thought him all callous to feeling and shame ;
Ah ! little they knew him —the spirit he bore
Once aimed at, and sighed for, as lofty a fame
As shines on the pages of history’s lore.
hi.
But pile the dank sod which no stone shall adorn,
No hand ever freshen with shrub or with flow’r;
We bury him coldly, we leave him forlorn —
And midnight was never more dark than this hour:
It. is but a year since all proudly he stood,
Brave, bright, unassuming,—the sought, the pre
ferr’d,
f'pheld by the strong, and beloved by the good ;
Now —bury him quickly, and utter no word !
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
SATURDAY NIGHT.
BY C . L . WHELEB.
How sweet to me the twilight grey
That ushers in this blissful hour,
When, with the sunset’s fading ray,
And eke with the closing flower,
We enter on the Sabbath’s reign of rest,
And cares forget that whilom wrung the breast.
The murmurs of the village die
Upon the sweet, dew-laden air,
As Day along the western sky
Reflects his dying glories rare ;
Oh ! ’t is an hour to weary mortals given,
To symbol forth th’ rest of yonder Heaven !
Though Even veil some beauties bright
Os Nature’s ever lovely face,
Still on th’ radiant brow of Night
Divinest lessons we may trace
The stars they tell of happy souls forgiven,
Who walk their bright and sinless way to Heaven.
1 love the lambent blush of tli’ sky,
When Day doth kiss the waking flow’rs,
And hangs his burning shield on high
To light the reign Os laughing hours;
But dearer far the joys and thoughts sublime
That reign o’er my soul ut this holy time.
And oft as hours like this return,
My soul shall plume its sin-soil’d wings,
And upward soar in sweet nocturn,
To catch the sense of purer things,
lill Heaven at last, with ever-bright’ning ray,
Shall ope in one eternal Sabbath day.
Athens, Geo.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
FRAGMENT.
‘‘Live,” said the ancient —with philosophy
Too narrow for the progress of our race
“ Live, always with thy memory set on death !”f
Better the Scripture thus: So keep thy thought,
Maugre the fear of death, that thou mayst live,
Not once forgeting that thou liv’st for life !
t are and transition are not absolute,
Save as they mark the steps which we declare
In a long progress—steps from higher to higher,
Where, what we seek is but to entertain
I he ambition that still prompts us to aspire.
WILFRFD.
t “ Vive memr lethL”
2ln iUlustratcir iDccklg Journal of Bcllcs-Ccttrco, Science a\\b tl)c 2lrts.
Popular (Sales.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
THE MAY- PARTY:
OR —
LOVE S MASQUERADE.
BY FL O HIO.
And over bead up grew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
A sylvan scene, and, as the ranks ascend,
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Os stateliest view. [Paradise Lost.
“Well, Fred, I’m glad you’ve come. We
shall certainly give you entertainment enough
to make you forget your home. By-the-by,
you must make my house your home during
your sojourn, for it would tell poorly of
Arthur Cummings popularity and friendship,
that he did not receive under his roof, so short
a time as a month, a dear friend and college
chum.”
“Many thanks, dear Arthur; I shall be
most happy to join your family circle. But I
hope you will excuse me for a short time, as
I shall be greatly pressed by the business
which brought me here; and might disturb
the privacy of your family. My business,
though very pressing, is not welcomed since
it has produced for me the pleasure of your
company, after so long a separation. But to
change the subject. When can you find time
to introduce me to your family ? Independent
of my desire to become acquainted with the
relations of my best friends, I long to know
those of whom I have read so much in your
letters.”
“ Any time, any time, and the sooner the
better. For I assure you they will be asanx
ious to see you, as you are to see them, when
they hear of your arrival, even as much as
your vanity could desire. Os this fault, how
ever. I know you to be free. Ockie already
takes you as a standard of all that is manly
and refined. And her opinion is no light au
thority.”
“ And pray how came she acquainted with
my humble name ? She certainly possesses
not the gift of second sight. Neither did I
know that she was even acquainted with my
name. Come now, Arthur, explain.”
“ It were strange for her not to recognize a
faithful portrait in the descriptions of a bosom
friend. Surely, Fred, there is nothing strange
in this. However, there is one thing 1 kept
secret concerning you. It is your versatility
of mind—your talent at acting —your humor,
all summed up in the words, extreme clever
ness. ”
“ And pray, why were these merits, if such
they are, withheld
“ In mercy to her pride, for she esteems her
self remarkably clever—and without flatter
ing her, I own that she is. Indeed, few can
compete with her at her own weapons. You
are an exception; she would prefer anything
else to finding herself out-witted; she prides
herself on the keenness of her perception ; and
difficult is she to be deceived, ft would be
painful to her to find an overmatch in this
respect; she is however generous and noble
in spirit; and when completely foiled, readily
admits it, if she finds that the tables cannot
be turned. The best way to gain her good
graces is through such means. Not having
mentioned your qualities in this respect, to
her, she only sees in you a brilliant, fascina
ting man, without the liveliness and humor
which is so natural and becoming to you.”
The conversation was still carried on by
the two friends, but as its effect will be seen,
in the events that followed, it will be unneces
-7 I
sary to record it. But we will relate who
these peisons were.
ATHENS, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, JULY 22, ISIS.
Frederick Stanley was a young man of very
j fascinating exterior. His form was rather
• slender, but graceful in the extreme; he had
‘[ light chesnut locks and eyes.
Arthur Cumming was more robust in stat
ure, and of a larger mould. He possessed a
manly set of features, combined with great
gentility and elegance of manner. The two
had been college mates. They roomed to
gether, they studied the same lessons at the
same table, and ate at the same hoard. They
graduated at the same time. Both had striv
en for the highest honor, but Stanley was the
winner. Their friendship had begun with
their acquaintance, and continued to strength
en with its growth.
Soon after their graduation, Stanley set out
on a tour through Europe, to render himself
more perfect, by obtaining opportunities for
improvement which he did not possess in the
United States. Besides, it had always been
his desire to see those places he had read and
heard so much of.
Arthur Cumming had returned to his fami
ly, consisting of his mother, sister and self.
He began his law studies, and was admitted to
the bar. At the same time they are intro
duced to the reader, he was twenty-six years
of age; three years after his graduation. He
now had an extensive practice for one so
young, by means of which, and a handsome
fortune left them by his father, his family
maintained (as it had ever done) the highest
rank in society. His home was in the aris
tocratic but hospitable town of D—.
Stanley had not long returned from his visit,
to the old world; when business called him to
D—, where his friend lived. He made known
his approach to Arthur, when, on his arrival,
the foregoing conversation took place. Ar
thur had a sister, as he himself has said.—
She was truly a specimen of nature’s skill.
Such charms as she possessed, both in mind
and person, are rarely found combined in one
individual. It is enough to say, that she was
a peerless beauty.
That same day, at the table, after the dish
es were removed, Arthur addressed his sister:
“Well, Ockie, I have good news for you.
Guess what it is!”
“The reception of a brief affording credit
to you, or a verdict pronounced in your favor.
If not these it may he joy on account of the
near approach of the coming month, for 1 al
ways knew you had a penchant for May.' 1 ' 1
This was a double allusion, for Arthur had
often desired the approach of this sweet month
on account of its opening day, ever a joyous
one; and, moreover, a certain May Fielding
in that same city had afforded unequivocal
proofs of her influence over his mind.
“ A truce to your railery, I pray, dear sis.
But for once is your sagacity baffled.—
Frederick Stanley is m town and has promis
ed to remain with me, after he has finished
most of the business which brought him
here.”
“ I am glad of it, and hope you wont delay
in bringing him here ; for, as your bosom
friend, I long to see him.”
“He will come with me to-night, being
more anxious to see you than you are to see
him.”
That evening Octavia prepared her toilet
with unusual care. One, in whose eyes she
desired to appear to the best advantage, would
be there. It was an early hour when Arthur
returned with his friend. Stanley’s light
chestnut curls, faint mustaches, elegant im
perial, dazzling teeth, and small hands, real
ized Octavia’s utmost expectations. But if
she was pleased with his outward appearance,
she was charmed with the rich treasures
stored up in his mind. His open, candid man-
VOLUME I.—NUMBER 11.
ner and gentle courtesy, with his brilliant con
versational powers and flashing wit, almost
captivated the hitherto untramelled heart of
Arthur’s sister. And she too showed herself
capable of making a deep .impression on the
friend of her brother. They parted mutually
pleased with each other, and feeling an inde
finable something in their bosoms causing
restlessness—a desire for solitude, though not
for sleep. During the everting Frederick
had spoken of his sister as being at the same
hotel with himself. This delighted Octavia,
who declared she would call on her on the
morrow; but, Frederick hinting something
about his sister being indisposed, she put it
off until the day after. Accordingly the fol
lowing day but one, she took her brother to
introduce her, and went to see Miss Julia
Stanley. Unfortunately she was not at home,
“having been invited to spend a couple of
days with some relations in the country.”
On the fifth day she went again, escorted by
her brother. This time she was successful.
The two young ladies were soon on a friend
ly footing, for how could it.be otherwise !
Miss Stanley was a maiden of no ordinary
pretensions. She so greatly resembled her
brother, that the likeness could easily be per
ceived. Thick, clustering ringlets encircled
her head. Her form was so exquisitely pro
portioned, that, though rather large, none
could have desired it smaller. With many
pressing invitations to come and remain with
her, Octavia took her leave. On her arrival
at home she gave her mother a glowing de
scription of her charming friend ; and they
together determined to secure her as an inmate
of their house during her sojourn, as soon as
the business of the brother permitted.
Frederick visited Octavia several times du
ring the ensuing week, as she also visited
Jus sister. Each visit strengthened a newly
awakened attachment on all sides. It was
altogether anew era in their lives. They
were all happy, and none more so than Ar
thur. He seemed scarcely able to contain his
pleasure at times; so that his sister somewhat
wondered at it. She could assign no motive
for it, unless he had fallen in love with Miss
Julia Stanley, forgetful of his gentle May.—
And she chid him for his desertion. She , on
on the contrary, grew low-spirited. The rea
son why she did not attempt to determine.
But he is now more lively than before, and
none ever knew him to be otherwise. He
can not possibly be guilty of deserting May
Fielding for Julia Stanley, though inferior to
her in beauty. “He never mentions anything
of seeing his friend’s sister except the time he
accompanied me,” thought Octavia. “He
visits her without letting me know it. That
must be it.”
But, no; —Arthur’s passion for his sweet
May was in no degree lessened. It was im
planted in his breast too deeply to be easily
eradicated.
“ Brother,” said Octavia one evening to Ar
thur, “ I think it strange that Mr. Stanley has
never yet brought his sister here.”
“ Not at all; he has told me that it was his
intention to bring her to remain with us after
Tuesday, and so he thought it unnecessary to
bring her sooner. After that, dear sis, you
can see her as much as you desire. It seems
as if you are smitten with her, and no less
with her brother than with her.”
“ Now cease, will you, Sir Impertinent!”
replied his sister, as a faint blush diffused it
self over her features, “ and take heed to your
speech. When I feel the need of your opin
ion I shall not hesitate to ask you for it. In
the present case it is more likely to be wrong
than right. But tell me how is the fair May %