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SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE:
w Ml c, RICHARDS, EDITOR.
Original JAortrn.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
LINES
Suggested by an Engraving of Blanche and Rose,
from the “ Wandering Jew ”
by CAROLINE HOWARD.
q gentle stars, that rose upon the world,
At first with feeble light, and mildest beam,
At first with trembling at the light you made,
Twin stars that timid melted into one :
By what sweet influence have you won our hearts,
By what strange magic is our gaze upturned,
Forgetting brighter lights to your kind looks,
Fair stars, that softly rose upon the world I
Dear household flowers! Not in the garden cold,
Wind-tossed and slighted do we leave you lone—
For the sweet perfume of your kindly deeds
Steals to our flre-side stone, with fragrant breath,
And wakes the wish that we might be like yon ,
Bale rose, and paler lily of the vale.
Oh, lovely flowers, forever bend your glance,
Your searching glance, deep down into our souls,
And like the dew from heaven still every thought,
Crush every rebellious feeling, till our hearts
Are pure and passionless like to your own.
1 i
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
BURDEN OF UNREST.
[Composed on the Death of my Little Son, Aster.]
BY T. H . CHIVERS, M. D .
“Now’ is my soul troubled!"—John, 12: 27.
All my days are spent in weeping,
Weeping for the early slain !
Weeping, patient vigils keeping
By the grave where he is sleeping,
;->orrow from Death’s field still reaping—
Reaping for the early slain!
All tot days tv-re fpeiot in weeping
For his coming back again.
On the earth are now no traces,
Traces of his former reign—
Traces, where the joyful faces
Os his sisters, like the graces,
Made an Eden of the places
Where they met in my domain:
On the earth are now no traces
Os his coming back again !
Now my tears are falling faster,
Faster than the stormy rain—
Faster than from our dear Master,
Fell the tears from earth’s disaster,
For the death of my dear Aster,
On the world’s great Gethsemane !
Ah ! my tears are falling faster
For his coming back again!
I shall never more see pleasure,
Pleasure never more, but pain—
Pleasure, losing that dear treasure
Whom I loved here without measure,
Whose sweet eyes were Heaven’s own azure,
Sparkling, mild, like sunny rain !
I shall never more see pleasure,
For his coming back again!
llow my weary soul doth miss him,
Miss him here with bitter pain—
Miss him when I want to kiss him,
At the night when I should bless him,
When his mother should undress him
For the bed where he has lain!
How my soul doth always miss him —
Never coming back again!
How my soul doth long to meet him.
Meet him in this world again—
Meet him where I used to greet him,
As the saints in Heaven now treat him—
On my vacant knees to scat him,
Where in joy he used to reign !
How my soul doth long to meet him
In this trying world again !
*?oon my sighing soul, death-blighted.
Blighted, racked with bitter pain—
Blighted, burtliencd, all benighted,
Shall in Heaven above be righted,
Glorified, redeemed, requited,
When it meets the early slain :
There to wait no more, death-blighted.
For his coming back again !
2Ut Illustrate ttlceklg Journal of Belles-Ccttrcs, Science anir tl)e 2lrts.
Ah ! when shall I ever hold him,
Hold him in these arms again 1
Hold him, tenderly enfold him,
And with tears of joy behold him,
And retell what I have told him —
Kissing him with joyful pain 1
Up in Heaven I shall behold him—
I shall meet him there again!
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
QUATRAINS
TO SOUTHERN FEMALE POETS.
BY C. L. WHELER.
TO MRS. CAROLINE GILMAN.
Entwin’d with many a “ Southern Rose,”
We braid thy chaplet fair ;
And few shall wear so pure a wreath
As that which binds thy hair.
TO MRS. AMELIA WELBY.
“ Amelia,” wherefore do we miss
Thy sweet and touching lay 1 ?
Oh, weave some web of woman’s thought,
Or childhood's dream-like day!
•
TO MARY E. LEE.
Oh, gently touch thy voiceless harp,
And soothe our weary hours;
For words that trill so sweet as thine
Have o’er us angel powers !
TO MRS. E. F. ELLET.
The tuneful lyre for Clio’s pen
Were change our hearts might rue,
But that thy words still swell the fame
Os hero women true.*
TO MRS. CAROLINE LEE HENTZ.
In Romance and in Poesy,
Alike with power to charm,
Ah, wherefore sleeps thy gentle spell
Around our fire-sides calm 1
*“ Heroic Women of the Revolution,” by Mrs. E.
JjJopular ®alcs.
From the “Literary American.”
LIZZIE CARLTON.
BY S. I . G.
She hound a heavy fold of pride
Upon her wounded breast;
It only served its pain to hide,
It could not give it rest.
Then tore she off the sad disguise,
And laid her down in peace ;
And Death’s kind angel kissed her eyes.
And gave her soul release.
“And you will not grieve, Lizzie, should
we become to each other as strangers?”
“1 have said it ; even this I can endure.”
“ But you will be sorrowful, and the charm
of your fife will have departed. Have you
not often said I was all the world to you,
Lizzie ?”
“Y r es, Charles; but lam not selfish, and I
hope to hear you are happy. It was a fond
and foolish dream that we were destined for
one another; Providence is pointing out to
you a separate path. My lot is cast here;
yours lies in other climes, and in another
home. I can endure this, Charles, and you
will soon learn to consider it best that we
now part.”
“But, Lizzie, you speak as of a sacrifice,
when you say you can endure: will you be
happy when I am gone, and smile as brightly,
and sing as you used to when we first met ?”
“Do not ask me, Charles; God only
knows ; but I will try.”
“And, Lizzie, will another be to you as I
have been ?”
For the first time Lizzie started, and
strange fire came into her mournful eyes. —
She had nerved herself for the interview, but
for this she was not prepared. How could
he ask her this, in that bitter moment of sep
aration —he who had been jealous if another
only touched her hand, in days gone by ?
Was it pride, now working in Lizzie’s heart,
that made the color rush to her pale cheek,
and raised the bending head until her glance
met his with something almost like defiance ?
Poor Lizzie!
“That question, Charles, I will not an
swer.”
To do Charles Ashford justice, his was not
a bad heart; but he understood not the pas-
ATHENS, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1818.
sionate nature of hers. His college days had i
been passed in the vicinity of Lizzie’s dwel- j
ling, and thus had their intimacy commenced,
and Tipened, on her part, into the deepest af
fection. He, too, loved, but not as Lizzie
loved: he loved her, because as the most ca
ressed and admired of all the beauties in her
native village, it was gratifying to be first in
her favor. The natural vanity of man’s
heart was flattered, when the preference of
Lizzie Carlton was displayed for him without
the shadow of concealment. All that knew
her saw this preference ; for Lizzie, though
she might have been a sad coquette, disdained
to play a part so foreign to her nature: she
was too proud to seem to throw away upon
the many, what she fondly hoped would be
a precious gift to one. This should have
bound her lover closer to her side ; but, as is
too frequently the result, it only made him
more exacting, while his confidence was not
increased. There are (thanks to Almighty
kindness) there are generous hearts, in whom
the knowledge of affection wakens only a
more full return; but they are few, and we
should not pass sentence harshly upon those
who are weak. Let it satisfy us that by
far the greater number are so. Charles Ash
ford had not a bad heart, but it was far from
perfect, and we will not say that he loved
Lizzie better for her fondness He had re
ceived a summons home, on the expiration of
his term, and would not probably return. —
This was to be their last meeting, ere his de
parture. We have seen that he was not in
different to Lizzie’s welfare, blit it was too
evident that he wished her to forget him.—
The luxury of his own splendid home, and
the thousand smiles awaiting him from many
lustrous eyes under his native heaven, would,
he knew, be more to him than the endear
ments of the simple girl beside him; yet he
felt fc r Lizzie, and would have been glad to
have believed she would find consolation.
All this had never been exactly realized by
Lizzie, till the moment when the question
which we have recorded fell upon her ear
startling clearness. She could not till
IhenNiiuly estimate the lightness of liis attach
ment, and the mere kind wish that prompted
his anxiety respecting her future. Now, she
knew and felt it all, and at the instant indig
nation reigned supreme. She had given the
fullness of intense devotion; she had received
only kindness, and her love was unapprecia
ted. She felt alone now. She did not ask
his sympathy; she would not satisfy him.
“Lizzie, is it possible! and you love an
other even now ?”
Her altered manner had had its effect;
Charles believed that she could readily trans
fer, and had probably already begun to trans
fer, her affection to another object. He even
thought he knew the person; for there was
one who had sought long and openly, though
of late hopelessly, the hand of Lizzie Carl
ton.
“Well, Lizzie, may you he happy. I
could even now remind you of the fickleness
of woman, but I will not be ungenerous. T
will be no obstacle, Lizzie, in the way of
your loving Edward Leslie.
Lizzie turned away, and laughed outright;
and, strange to say. her companion only won
dered that she laughed at such a time.
They trifled the moments away until they
separated. Some fingerings of old affection
seemed to remain on the part of Charles, but
Lizzie had become actually heartless in her
gaiety —so a spectator of no very deep dis
crimination would have supposed, on wit
nessing their last farewell.
And thus they parted.
There was a brilliant little evening party
at Clara. Howard’s, and Lizzie Carlton was
the gayest of the dancers. Clara was her
friend, and it may be, she understood, what
others were slower to perceive, the forced
character of Lizzie’s animation. Anxiously
she looked from time to time on that young
face so bright with smiles, and shuddered
painfully at the contrast it presented to its
usual serenity. Most of the company pre
sent knew of her former attachment to
Charles, and that they had lately parted, but
under what circumstances it seemed difficult
to discover Many were the shrewd conjec
tures, but most of those who looked on Liz
zie’s animated face, believed that she was
tired of her childish love, and glad that
Charles was gone. Some asserted that he
was to return, but in that case, who should
account for her strange delight ? Even a
VOLUME I. —NUMBER 23.
temporary absence, did she really love him,
must cast some slight shadow over her hap
piness; and then, too, Lizzie was usually
quiet, in grief and in joy. It is very certain
she was an object of interest that evening.
There was one who watched her more in
tently than the rest, and with more than a
mere idle curiosity. Edward Leslie could
not be indifferent to the remarks he heard;
and there was something in his heart which
made him willing to believe that the parting
of Lizzie and Charles was a final one. More
than this, he was determined to know. Lizzie
believed him her friend, and had always been
candid with him.
They had been dancing together; Lizzie
was fatigued ; he drew her to a cool recess
where the open window admitted the pleasant
air. His manner was kind, and this she ap
peared to feel.
“lam very tired,” she said, “ let me sit
here, where none will seek me; go back to
the company, Edward ; 1 will stay alone.”
“No, Lizzie, that I cannot allow; suffer
me to remain with you while you stay. I
think you are not well to-night; you have
danced too long.”
“Edward, do they think I am not well 1”
and Lizzie raised her lovely eyes imploringly
to his. “Do not tell me I seem ill!”
“No, Lizzie; only to we.”
There was a pause. “ Are you not well,
Lizzie 1 you who are so candid—tell me, are
you not very happy ?”
“ Edward, you are my friend—l shall never
be well or happy morel Now leave me.”
“Oh, Lizzie! tell me what has happened!
Charles —is he the cause ?”
“ Never name him to me again. We shall
see each other no more.”
“ And we —oh, Lizzie! may not the love l
have long cherished, so unrequited, so lonely
—may it not comfort you !”
The look she gave him was full of pain.
It was enough.
“ I will not mention it to you again, Lizzie.
We understand each other fully.”
“Yes, Edward; thank you. Go now.”
He did leave her; tears were rising in his
eyes; they were for her: and she too shed
the first since Charles left her, on the night
when her strange joy began. It was over
then, and Lizzie wore the same old quiet
look again, but from that time her bloom
faded.
Within Charles Ashford’s splendid habita
tion there was anew resident. A lovelier
young bride never smiled than she who now
sat there, in his ancestral halls, so brilliant
in her youthful bloom. He had brought her
to the home of his parents; they had opened
their arms to receive her, and blessed her.—
Henceforth his Meta was to be the sun-light
of the little sphere where Charles had garner
ed up his happiness. A native of a neigh
boring State, and nurtured under the same
glowing sun. their habits, tastes, and impulses
were all congenial, and their union seemed to
promise the extent of earthly bliss. When
Charles took Meta from her mother’s arms,
he felt that she surrendered to him a precious
trust, for the lively, happy creature had been
to that invalid mother her dearest comfort.
“ Bring her to me often,” she said ; “ never
let us be long parted.”
Meta kissed away her mother’s tears, and
promised to visit her whenever she was
needed.
“Write, mamma, when you are lonely or
ill; we can be with you immediately. I shall
have two homes now.”
We have spoken of their reception under
his parental roof, and Meta, as we said, was
seated there, the very impersonation of love
and joy.
“ Sweet one, is this home a pleasant one to
you? We have arranged all things as we
thought would please you best. Will you
be happy. Meta?”
She only wound her arm more closely
round his neck, and laid her jewelled hand
amid his curls.
And Lizzie was forgotten.
“ Charles, oh ! Charles, this letter is from
my own dear mother. Thank you, love a
thousand times.”
“There, Meta, calm yourself, and give it
to me, dear, that I may break the seal. Pre
pare yourself for some good news—this may
announce a visit. How proud and happy
shall we be to welcome her here.”
“ She said, Charles, you remember, we
were to return to her; you know mamma is