Newspaper Page Text
VOL. I—*©. 25.
POKTBI.
FOR THE TIMES
A SPENT BALL.
fjOM THE MSS. OF A SEXAGENARIAN.
g jjfrfjts their latest ray have flung,
)n eyes that flashed it back intenser ;
dthe rapt listener’s ear has hung,
)beach young lip’s farewell cadenza.
; silent walls re-echo not
arro.su and down the middle ,”
[some fair sleepers have forgot,
111,but the music of the fiddle.
dist‘Good night’ is gaily told
lishtsl in the dancer’s careless prattle,
i latest carriage wheel has roiled
Jpon iny ear its parting rattle;
lhlift last of all the throng
If frolic youth and gay Civilians,
..song,
Pars /us in these gay cotilions.
y come on memory’s backward glance,
(right as my boyhood’s visioned slumbers,
.forms that equal youth’s romance,
ind realize the Poet’s numbers,
■ lofty brow —the wind-harp’s tones,
tiugiets, all radiant and mazy,
all that gentle woman owns,
'o drive our sterner bosoms crazy.
rcome, I have no power to shroud
yglanee from visions floating o’er uie,
nsi which to-nightmy soul hath bowed,
iidouble lustre flash before me.
piceful ones I’ve stood beside,
:e for the music, signal given,
looks that vailed my own of pride,
ic Houriesof an Earthly Heaven.
ritb the dance I—my soul is up,
y fainting limbs exert new vigor,
sure presents Iter sparkling cup,
in'll rtj iht w hole ‘ h i-to!oralJigurc .’
Blast half stanza it has burst
bubble that I fain bad cherished,
Bd-eam by wayward fancy nursed,
Bhhuut a vestige left has perished.
Bid’m the festal Hall—’tis done—
B dream—the daitet—alike are over—
the rose she rhymed upon,
the floor 1 may discover.
it lady, ’tis to thee,
faded floweret owes its value
its leaf has been to me,—
not >oun forget it. Shall you?
1 would not he
graving spirit’s binding tether
Hbtt'T. thou hast laid on 'me,
weighs upon mv limbs, a leather;
fain would he the one
■ lay un; rompted thoughts, l!ie nearest,
Bp unnamed, yet dwelt upon
by thy fancy, dearest.
images, we're told
sepulchral vaults of old,
lampsenlightenod.
limned by memory coincs
evening rainbow, ’mid the sorrow,
strung pulses that benumbs
clearer skies, to-morrow.
X ’hkcellaneols.
■ ' I’m the European Magir.inr
■oGAn-s «|’ i. Vtll'lDDfil.
B TIIE SPANIARD.
the nolilc visiters a.&ciiihicd at
tin' Flench I’yri n. i s.iioiic were
tlian tiie Comic Manuel
and his beautiful wife .luana.
ol their ages, characters,
was a subject of surprize to ct-
W* Cavalier, and of pity to every
matron. His shrivelled forehead,
■ c !'"V<nd cadaverous com;>! \uou,in
of spleen and suspicion
lothe olive tint given by his na-
a fearful contrast to the
countenance of his consort.
anil reluctant stay at these ecl-
springs, the Conde sudden-
his intended return to Madrid :
pomp attached to his high official
Ins pride, and pi evented the
which disi used his imagina
addressed his eouimaiuls to
-a page entered with a small
he received without casting
‘^Bp ;| ii it ar»| put it into his vest. Hut
i! "itli very uneasy sensations,
' 't contained a paired' valuahle
.a j v.i lerat Caregt liad been
~r(l cred (o prepare for her. So
le^B|l ' n ' ,, i by her husband’.-, jealous nnr
lll^B lr ''id hron tempted to commit the
! <> inexperienced wives—-the
l> l H S r' il! Ousting disobedience to
Either by liccdlesiu ss or design.
; which had never been 111 1< mh-d
lord's eve, had fallen into ins
* detection aggravated l»v at-
would he the in vita
peculiar to women, prompted
1 device w Inch areidnit seemrd
H’ hissing hv the roo a where her 1
B his siesta, or evening
saw (lie door half-opened and
Packet lying on a writing-table!
1 ’ hi rouleaus and scattered dol
hunt light admitted by the closed
me chamber, discovered no one
c Itcard the deep anti slow breath
r behind tlie drapery which
jB'J retired couch. Juana instantly
°"n well-known bracelets,
'Wlcd them ina paper shaped like
rs packet, of which the wax did
,0 have been broken. It would
|,,| lt, she believed, to pi rsuade her
they had been sent for some
■.^ C( ' r t f '|iair«, and the jew eler's dis-
' ,r sec,| ccd. Secretly blessing
■ - unusual want of c.uriositv and
Ju.ma -loir w itli a s' Ipli’c
atworca sQSfHHoa juamAm
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY JIARJIADIKE 3. SLADE, AT THKEE DOLLARS PER ANNL9I.
step into the dusky chamber, and without
, (musing to wonder at the numerous rouleaus,
j though the opportunity excited a smile, ex
changed her packet for that which lay ex
| posed upon the table and fled back. But
what surprise, perplexity, and dismay, pos
sessed her, when she broke the wax and be
held, not the bracelets she had ordered, but a
magnificent pair, of the rarest Peruvian gold
enriched with a medallion representing *
young man in a splendid English uniform!
Its companion contained a cypher and coro
net of diamonds. Could this be the jeweler’s
mistake, the stratagem of some gallant stran
[ger. or part of a mystery managed by her hus
band ? Whatever was the truth, her own im- j
prudence and misfortune were irretrievable,
as, on her cautious return to the chamber-'
door, she found it closed and bolted. In si
lent and profound agony, sharpened by the
necessity of disguise, Juana awaited tiie re
turn of her husband, whose countenance only !
expressed its usual sufJeii coldness, while he
completed her confusion by enquiring for I
what purpose she had privately ordered the,
bracelets which a jeweler had delivered to
his page. Unprepared, disordered, and con
scious of error, Juana made a timid and hes
itating reply, which, though strictly true, had
all the aspect ol falsehood. She alleged,
that compassion for a distressed and deser
ving artisan, hadinduccd iier lo order a pair
of bracelets, which she had not thought suf- 1
(iciently important to mention. Don Manuel j
heard her with a mysterious smile, and care- j
lessly answered, that he had determined to
leave Bareges because he had been re
quired to cede the chamber usually allotted
to his siesta, for tho accommodation of one
of the numerous strangers lately arrived at
the eenta where they lodged. This last in- j
teliigencc explained one part of tho fatal mis- j
take committed by Juana, atid deepened the ;
possible calamity. She had been seen, per
haps, by the new guest feloniously conveying j
away his jewels, ami leaving in exchange a
deposit which he might receive and expose]
as a token of preference ! The loveliest rose- j
colour of modest shame spread over her
cheeks at this thought, & her husband throw
ing the bracelets she had clandestinely pur
chased, into her lap, smiled on her and depar
ted in silence. This silence and this forgiv
ing smile touched her innocent and gener
ous heart with more remorse than his utmost
bitterness could have excited. Softened by I
sell-reproach into respectful timjfty, shco-!
beyed his commands to prepare for an imtne- j
diatc removal with unusual yet unaffected j
meeknsfie. I)orin«y Itieli long journey to I
Madrid,she received no other notice than a ;
cold monosyllable or an indirect glance, but j
the spirit of youth and innocence sustained]
her hopes and her efforts to conciliate. Ma-j
ny months passed without any recurrence to j
the unfortunate mistake at Bareges, when 1
the English Ambassadress gave a fete, which ]
all tiie nobility of Madrid were invited to par
take. Juana eagerly embraced the opporlu.
nity to seek a friendship with this distin
guished lady, half determining to deposit the
stolen jewels in her hands,that they might i
Ive restored to their owner by her aid.
Many officers of high rank, attendants on
the “Great Lord,” w ere mingled with the
assembly, whose chief attention was fixed
on the Conde del Tonnes’ beautiful wife.
With that quick and constant suspicion]
which creates the danger it fears, Juana
imagined some peculiar meaning in the
occasional glance ofa young Englishman,
whose military dress resembled the por
trait in the bracelet. A thousand blushes
pursued each other over her face, aud;
her downcast, yet attentive eye seemed
to give assent to the enquiry expressed
by Itis. The gracious gaiety of the Am
bassadress encouraged her young guest
to ask the name of this - Englishman.
“’Tis my brother,” replied her excellency
smiling, “and he dares not ask an intro
duct'ou to any Spanish belle because he
has forfeited my favour by his negligence.”
Juana hazarded another question Which
her entertainer’s sprightly tone invited,
and the ambassadress uncovering her
arm answered,“lie promised to bring me
bracelets of your purest Peruvian gold
for this night, and you sec me without ti
ne!—Listen to his excuse and praise its
ingenuity. lie tells me that his us cal in
firmity of walking in his sleep seized him
at Bareges, where he dreamed that a mu
] sic hoo'v lay before him, in which a Span
; ish ballad so strongly touched his fancy,
that to distinguish the page, he left a lol
ded paper in it: when he awoke, the pack
j ct \\ hich contained the bracelets intended
] for me, was gone. He remembers the
; room, the ballad, and the music-book, in
i which he pretends that he deposited it,
! most accurately ; and if I may believe
bint, the ballad was ’ —“One of L<-
j pez de Vega’s” hastily interrupted Juana,
: and the music book was mine. We left
Bareges suddenly before the owner of the
i bracelets could be guessed ; but I have
brought them to night, hoping that your
i kindness might assist me in restoring
i them.” The Ambassadress, with a smile
1 full of benignity and archness, received
the bracelets from the young countess,
' whose blushes announced how much she
1 doubted whether she owed most to the
: .-i.Jicate ire entiou of the brother or the si -
e never despair or —Truth we shall sail under her auspices.”—Horace.
GEORCHA TIMES
MILLEDGEVILBE, GEORGIA, JULY 3, 1833.
j ter. But during the remainder of the e
, veiling, her release from a dangerous di
lemma gave an elastic ease to her move
ments, and anew lustre to her countenance
of which more than one eye was fatally
observant.
The gala extended far beyond midnight,
and the brother of the fair giver was a
mong the latest lingerers. Morning
shone through the tricllis of his balcony
: when lie reached his bed-chambcr, where
■ he saw, with great surprise, a large Wood
;eu chest, which had been brought, as his
servant informed him, only a few minutes i
j before his return, by three strangers, who i
: had received his orders, they said to lodge
it there with great precaution. Our En-!
jglishman prudently dismissed his valet be- j
j fore he unfastened the lid of this mysteri- 1
] ous coffer and raised the large folds of
white linen within. Beneath them lay
the lifeless body of Juana, in the rich at
tire she had worn at his sister’s banquet, J
with a chain of Peruvian gold twisted ]
tightly around her neck, and tied in a fatal I
knot. Her right hand wore a white glove;'
the left was bare and disfigured by deep
wounds.—At this frightful spectacle a
cry of horrer escaped Clanharold ; but
presently collecting his disordered senses,
j he'began to consider what was most ex
-1 pedient at a crisis so perilous. He saw
1 the snare prepared for him, and had ter
rible proof’s of the power,the malice, and
the speed of the contriver. The vindic-j
live jealousy which had sacrificed so much 1
loveliness might also thirst for his life,
though sheltered by his national impor
tance and family distinction. In a few :
hours Clanharold had devised and execu- ]
ted the plan which appeared best fitted j
to suit his purpose, and several days
passed without producing any rumour re-;
lative to Juana, except that she had left j
Madrid with her husband. When the |
Conde’s departure was well ascertained, i
the young Englishman, whose pride had !
fordidden any step resembling a retreat,!
began to feel the policy of quitting Spain, j
He was alone in his chamber arranging j
some important papers when his valet en- j
tered leading three armed agents of the po- j
lice,who instantly conveyed him in a close |
carriage to a secret prison. The Bishop;
of C rpnpivo/I *i—... --Vuuj
are accused, said the prelate with a stern ]
air, “of seduction and assassination; and j
though our principles of jurisprudence j
prohibit any disclosure of the accusers'
name and communications. I love En- ]
gland and its laws too much to withhold ]
my protection from an Englishman. There
fore I tell you, your valet is your accuser. J
He saw you in the act of opening a ccr- J
tain coflcr, and he directed us where to!
find it buried, in the orangery under your j
balcony. You grow pale, and he has ]
spoken the truth!”—“ln England,” replied j
Clanharold after a short pause, “I should I
have appealed to its laws to protect me
from imprisonment on an uncomfirmed
pretence, and to my reputation for an an
swer to such a charge. Itis no boast to
say, that Englishmen arc notfamiliar with j
that ferocious passion which urges men;
to murder what they cannot possess orj
have possess ed too long. When I tell you'
this, I only tell you that we arc not rnon- i
sters.’’ Innocence itself would have I
shrunk from the Spaniard’s eye as hean-j
swered. “You are aware, then, that he J
accuses you of assassinating a woman l ” —j
Clanharold felt the rashness of his speech
, and tiie inference it admitted, but baffled j
his inquisitor by retorting “can he prove j
; it?”—Stung by the contempt in Clanhar
old's smile, the bishop exclaimed, “The
proof of innocence rests with you. A fe
male strangled and cruelly wounded was i
conveyed to your dwelling at midnight by J
men hired as accomplices, but now wit
nesses of the crime. I adjure you as a ]
minister of justice, and as the friend of!
your nation's honour, which your public
examination would endanger, to confess;
the truth. Where was the corpse deposi
ted!”—“l know of none!” replied Cianhar-,
j old firmly; “nor have I admitted any
knowledge of the men you name. I have
held no secret and dishonourable inter
course in Spain either with the living or
the dead. This is my answer, and the
last I shall repeat.” The prelate smiled
indignantly and departed. But notwith
standing his first emotions of anger at the
prisoner’s haughty defiance, his habitual
caution, joined to some generous feelings,
enforced, perhaps by the respect due to
Clanharold’s nation, rank, and family, sus
pended his proceedings even beyond the
usual degree of Spanish tardiness. Wea
. ried with the misery of an imprisonment
which seemed purposely protracted. Clan
harold’s pride sunk at length under the
anxious entreaties of his sister, and he
consented to avail himself of her aid. A
i bout this period, her husband’s official
station rendered another public banquet
necessary, and she studiously included the
Bishop of C among her guests. In
j the ciief saloon, where the most numerous
and irilliant part of the assembly were
engaged in the Bolero, a stranger sudden
ly encred, whose extraordinary deport
menl and attire fixed every eye upon 1
him. A mantle of grey silk, strangely j
1 pained, was wrapped around him ; his
feet were bare, and his head covered with !
a lage hat of plaited straw, interwoven ,
vviu flowers. This fantastic figure
moed slowly round the room, looking
widly yet familiarly on the assembly,and
waving the remnant of a white glove
suined with blood. The females among
the crowd endeavoured to hide themselves
from the intrusion of a maniac, but a few
cavaliers ventured to surround and ques
tion him. Still waving the glove, he only
answered, “A/y Master's secret .”—No one
of the ambassador’s household had seen
this person enter, or could guess from
whence he came ; but the ambassadress
leading the Bishop of C towards
him, directed his attention to the frag
ment of a gold chain concealed in the
stranger's breast. Dismissing every spec
tator, and closing the doors of the saloon,
he bishop laid his hand upon the maniac’s
shoulder, and attempted to take the golden
chain from his'vest. With the same vague
and fixed smile, he repeated “My master’s
secret,” and covered it closer in the folds
of his silk mantle. “Do you know this
hall ?” said the inquisitor—“Yes”—“And
the business of this night?"—“lt is my
master’s secret.”—“But what is your bu
siness here?” “Mine is with you?” returned
the stranger raising his large eyes with a
dark fire in them. —“You are a priest,they
say and I want absolution for ‘My master's
secret!’ he clenched his hands on his breast
with a groan which expressed agony even
to suffocation, and fell insensible on the
ground.
The Judge had a heart worthy his high
station among Christian priests, and an
understanding superior to the errors of
Spanish jurisprudence. He summoned
his secretary and two confidential assistnts,
who conveyed the unhappy stranger to a
chamber near tbe holy tribunal, and care
fully recalled his senses. When his eyes
opened, they fixed themselvcson the mys
terious chest, which had boo.- I- 1 --- 1 1 .
loro bun tiv ifje prelate s order. Has it
struck twelve, and is all done so soon!”
Well, carry it gently—my master is not
yet at home”—Carry the torch then,” said j
the bishop’s secretary.—“ Here are three i
of us to take the chest.—“O the dead j
weigh heavy !—but wc wall have no torch; I
I know my way blindfolded.” The at- j
tendants understanding the motion of their i
master’s eye, raised the chest upon their j
shoulders, and accompanied their guide j
through the dark and intricate streets of l
Madrid, till they reached the house once
occupied by Clanharold. Still preceded
by the unknown, and followed by the bish
op muffled up, they entered the bedcham
ber where it had been first deposited. 1
“Let ns look at her again before we leave
her,” said the secretary affecting to apply
his eye to acl ink in tlu' coffer. “It is my
master's secret !” exekumed the maniac,
pushing him back with the strength of in- 1
sanity—“but this gold chain will pay for i
absolution—take it, father.” —“Follow me, j
my son,”said the bishop, “and the peace 1
of penitence be with thee!”
At the middle hour of the next night;
Clanharold’s inusings were disturbed by j
the entrance of the prelate wih a dark and j
severe countenance. He accosted him in |
few words, and announced the certainty
of his secret, but final trial on the follow
ing day. This information only raised
the courage and the hopes of the young
prisoner, who apprehended nothing so
much as the obscure and slow progress of
the holy tribunal. No pomp or circum
stance was spared to render the judicial j
court imposing to the Englishman’s feel-:
ings when he entered it ; but those feel
mgs may be well conjectured when hej
saw th* chest which had been employed as
Juana's coffin standing in the centre, and
her husband at the bar. “Henry V iscount
Clanharold,” said the inferior judge rising
solemnly from his seat under a dark can
opied recess, “we cite you here to bear
witness of the trjth. Look on this man
and answer ur,—ire yc strangers to each
other?” We have never met before,” re
plied Clanharold, evading a distinct reply
to a question which he feared might crirfti
| nate a man unjustly suspected. “By the
sanotity of that oath which we have itn
! posed on your veracity, we require you to
communicate nil you know of this chest."
answered, still seeking safety in evas'on.
The Conde fixed his slow eye on Clanhar
old as these words were registered, and
drew his lip inwards with -a ghastly smile.
Three men were summoned next, and so
lemnly attested the conveyance of this
chest, at midnight to the Euglish noble
j man’s apartment, and professed their be
) lief, that it contained a treasure expected
by him. His valet followed with a pre-|
vise and accurate detail of the cfrcum-]
stances attending the opening of the lid,!
the groan which escaped his master, andj
the short stupor of agony which appeared!
to seize him, while excited by curiosity!
and suspicion he had watched his move
ments. Last carne the miserable stran
ger. still clothed in his fantastic drapery,
with the blood-stained glove in his hand,
and the broken chain fastened round his
neck. “Master! I have kept your secret!”
he exclaimed and tainted. “Spare your
efforts," said the Conde, coldly folding his
arms over Isis breast—“this wretch can
tell you nothing more than I avow. He
knows his master’s secret— he knows that
an infamous woman left her husband’s
house on the eve of St. Blasius’s festival,
and returned to it no more.”—“And you
received her!” added the chief judge, ad
dressing the English prisoner. “M v lord,
replied Clanharold—“l have already dis
claimed the guilt imputed to me :—my
roof has never been an asylum for infa
my in any shape, and 1 know no Spanish
woman to whom it is due.”—“He preva
ricates!” interrupted the Conde, forgetting
his own danger in his zeal to criminate an
enemy— I “he has spoken falsely ! —let him
remember Bareges and the accommoda
ting kindness of his sister!”—A momenta
ry blush passed over Clanharold’s fore
head, followed by a stern and deadly pale
ness.—“ Under English laws,” he said, di
recting his eyes towards the judges, “fren
zy and desperation are not allowed to
convict themselves ; nor are the most
plausible assertions credited without
proofs. All the witnesses err. If they
can certify the fact of an assassination, let
them make known the manner, and name
the victim.”—“Beware!” said the bishop,
“the chief witness has confessed all. Do
you venture to look upon this chain?”
Clanharold instantly recognized a frag
ment of the woven gold so fatally em
ployed round Juana’s neck “You can
not deny that you have seen the instru
ment of an unhappy lady’s death; this
glove is tlte counterpart of one Worn by
her corpse, and the place of its interment
is all we have to ask. You stand hm-<»
u uuijH it, mil 89 art*,«.'vlvtiCC
him } unless a contumacious silence ren
ders you an accomplice. Where is the
body of Juana?”
Clanharold remained silent till this ques
tion had been thrice related. To its last
solemn proposition he replied, “if the Con
de is accused of murder, I have no evi
dence to give, but I fully and firmly be
lieve him innocent. I have seen no in
strument of death, no place of secret inter
ment, and to your last question I answer
; —my ignorance is absolute.” The sec
! retarv of the tribunal recorded this decla
ration, while the only lamp which lighted
the spacious hall of justice was gradually
lowered over the coffin of Juana. Her
husband shuddered and turned away his
face, while the bishop, executing the most
awful office of his temporal administration,
advanced to pronounce his sentence.
,Manuel del Tormes, accused and Con
victed hv the assistants of your guilt; and
you, Henry Lord Clanharold, subjected to
the penalty of deatn by an obstinate Con
cealment of murder, approach and lay
your hands upon this bier.”—They obeyed
with contrasted, but strongly evident tecl
ings. The Cor.dc’s livid lips shook as he
attempted to speak; and raising his shrunk
eye, he saw another w itness standing be
fore him. She wore the white habit ofa
nun, and extended her hands towards both
the prisoners. “Judges! the Conde is in
nocent, and the Englishman has spoken
the truth. Juana was not wholly dead
when the coffer was unclosed, and Clan
harold’s care revived her; but she could
not enjoy even life where her honour was
suspected. Site escaped from her preser
ver to the convent of St. Blasius, where
she found refuge without his knowledge
or aid. She returns to the world only
for a moment,to acquaint a husband whose
rashness was not without provocation,
and a generous stranger whose sccresyl
hazards his life to redeem her honour ”
—Thus speaking, she raised her veil: and
when the assembly had gazed for an in
stant on tiie beauty of the unfortunate Ju
ana, dropped it again for ever.
But the Conde. fully convicted o r a bar
] barous intent, w as sentenced to a long im
prisonment, which his self-devouring spir
]it rendered more than death. His servant,
the chief agent in the attempted assassina
tion, died in the receptacle for lunatics,
where the ambassadress had discovered
him ; and her brother quitted Spain in al
: most incurable dejection, execrating that
fierce jealousy which, by urging innocence
itself into dark and crooked paths, dc
! prives it of its dignity and its security.
v -
To keep out of jail.—Get out and keep
■ out of debt.
1
THE FATHERS VERSIFIED.
Mr. Moore in his Travels of an Irish gen
tleman in search of a Religion, says, “by
way of keeping the virgin in good humor, as
well with the fathers as with myself, 1 occa
sionally translated into verse some of the most
floral passages which occur in these writers,
and laid them in double homage, at once, of
poetry and piety, at her feet. With these
half-tender, half-saintly strains, the lady was,
as may be supposed, inexpressibly delighted,
To the task of copying them out the most de
licate crow-quills were devoted: and it was
the first time, I dare swear, in the annuls of
gallantry, that the names of St. Basil, St.
Gregory and St. Jerome were fated to shine
forth in the pages of a morocco covered al
bum.” Thus St. Chrysostom:
“ Why come ye to the place of prayer
With jewels in your braided hair I
And wherefore is the house of God
By glittering feet ptofanely trod ;
As if, vain things, ye come to keep
Some festival, and not to weep!
Oh ! prostrate weep before that Lord
Os earth and heaven, of life and death,
Who blights the fairest with a word,
And blasts the mightiest with a breath.
Go ! ’tis not thus in bright array
Such sinful souls would dare to pray.
Vainly to anger’d heaven ye raise
Luxurious hands where diamonds hlaxe;
And she w ho comes in fcroider’d veil
To weep her frailty, still is frail.”
“The same homily furnished me with rath*
or a curious passage, showing how just this
Saint’s notions of female heautv are, and how
independent ol the aid of ornament was its
natural power in his eyes.
“ Behold, thou say'st, • my gown is p la in,
My sandals are of texture rude ;
Is this like one whose heart is vain,
Like one who dresses to be woo’d 1
Deceive r.ot thus, young maid thy heart;
For far more oft in simple gown
Doth beauty play the tempter's part,
Than the brocades of rich renown :
And homeliest gar!) hath oft been found
When typed and moulded to the shape,
To deal such shafts of mischiet round
As wisest men can scarce escape.”
Saint Gregory, of Nazianzum, who himself
wrote poems, and was the or.ly one of the fa
thers of the first four centuries wh6 did so, is
thus rendered :
“Let not those eyes, whose light forbids
All love uitho'y, even learn to stray,
Bu L.¥e^M i -"- y stay.
Keeping their brightness to themselves all day.
Let not those lips by man be Won,
To breathe a thought that thy guileless
breast ;
But like May-buds, that fear thektin,
Shut up in rosy silence ever rest, —
Silence, that speaks the maiden's sweet
thoughts best.”
But St. Basil comes nearer Little’s poems:
“There shines an all pervading grace,
A charm diffused through every part
Os perfect woman’s form and face,
That steals like light, into man’s heart;
Her look is to liis eyes a beam
Os loveliness that never sets ;
lier voice is to his ear a dream
Os melody it ne’er forgets :
Alike in motion or repose,
Awake or flumbeßig, sure to win,'
Her form, a vase transparent, shows
The spirit’s light enshrined within.
Nor charming only when she talks ;
Her very silence speaks and shines;
Love gilds lier pathway when she walks;
And lights her couch when she reclines.
Let her, in short, do whatshe will,
Tis something for which man must woo her;
So powerful is that magnetslill
Which dravf3 all souls aud senses to her.”
This Ancieiit is nfterwaids kept th counte
nance by a paraphrase of a Modern Barlteus,
a stauncli Calvinist:
••Now, perhaps, having taxed my poetical art,
To indite yoit this 'ruriite letteT,
You’ve enough of the sex,after all, in your heart;
To like a few kisses much better.
And in sooth, my dear Anne, if you’re pfetty as
wise,
I might offsr the gifts yon prefer,
But that Barbara tells roe, with love in her eyes,
1 must keep all my kisses for her.”
INDIAN SPRINGS.
H A. ERWIN’S House at tiie
■ Am INDIAN SPRINGS has been opened
several weeks for the accommodation of persons
who may be desirous of visiting the watering
place. The house is well fitted up and every
thing in compile order.
Erwin’s Hotel in Macon is still open for boar
ders and travellers, and is under the superinten
dancp of a lady who is as well qualified for the
business as any female in Georgia.
(gj-This House in Macon may be purchased
upon accommodating terms, and possession givea
by the first of October next.
L. A. ERWIN.
June 26
° o °The Georgia Messenger, Georgia Journal,
Augusta Chronicle, will publish the above tour
times, and forward their account to L. A. E-
Joseph 11. Greene,
IN addition to his former Stock, is
receiving front New-York, a l'resh
supply of
Mprinff and Fancy
goods,
Which he will sell ‘on accommodating
terms. He invites his friends and the pub
lic to an examination of them ; and solicits
a continuance ot patronage.