Abbildungen der Seite


Was in the hey-day of its loveliness,

The scattering blast came o'er him and he fell,

We saw him slowly fading-o'er that cheek THE sun went down in loveliness, and left

The icy hand had hovered long, before Its farewell beams upon the fading sky; It left its palled print, aud whiteness there. In all their summer glory; ope broad belt He sunk not like the feeble twelve-hour'd rose, Of snowy clouds was resting, in its pride, But, like the withering lily, pale decay Far o'er the glowing west ; and brightly there Stript of its loveliness by slow degrees. The rosy gleams were playing, and that cloud Seemed a broad curtain with its fringe of gold; | Supplied his every want, and strove to smooth

I lingered by him, watched his every lookThe glorious drapery of a twilight heaven. I love these sunny twilights—they are hours

The waping path which led him to the grave ; When man with nature may hold sweet com

'Twas a bright summer morn, the laughing sun munion,

Came through the festive heavens, and the And feel his spirit raised above the cares,

breath And petty troubles of the sorrowing world,

Of all the flowers was on the atmosphere ; I went without to ramble-ost I steal

The choristers of morn, were on the wing Far from the dense and busy haunts of men,

Chaunting the joyous song of jubilee. To taste the sweets of solitude, and mark

I sat beside his death-bed-they had thrown The silent, still recesses of the world,

The window open-and had parted wide Where nature's silence, unmolested reigns.- || The snowy curtain, that he might gaze out I wandered till the dewy shades of night

Upon the smiling summer ;-he looked forth Had stolen on me imperceptibly,

And marked its beauties, his young soul was The burnished west had faded, and that cloud

wrapt Like a still bird had winged its silent flight,

In deep and holy feeling--but he turned No vestige then remained ; nights vaulted hall

And waving out his long eafeebled hand, Was one pure arch of deep majestic blue,

White as the linen drapery of his couch, Save those thick lights that twinkle in the air

He placed it within mine, and casting up Like a broad sea of diamonds. But the moor,

A glance--a glance I never shall forget, The crested “Queen of the deep put-brown

He said, " 'tis hard to leave so bright a world ; ere,”

Yes, it is painful: when 90 pure a thing Came wheeling o'er the mountains of the east;

As this fair earth, is putting forth its charms And as she climb'd the ladder of the sky,

In all their loveliness; and luxuries She found me treading with a lingering step

Are showering down around us--when the sun Upon the holy ground of sepulchre

Of life is shining sweetly; and the rose The sacred mounds of the departed dead.

Is quickly opening; when no lowering cloud 'Twas lone, but beautiful, the silken beams

Is in our azure Heaven, and all things Came down so gentle on the humble graves,

Invite the traveller to linger long-Casting full many a dark,and lengthened shade

Yes, it is painful then to go away. From the tall, graved memorials of the dead,

But I have conquered this, and star ey'd Hope Upon the silent rank grass; I had found

Points to a brighter ; an eternal world. "The grave of one I loved, around whose heart

And O! 'tis sweet, 'tis soothing to my soul, The twining tendrils of mine own had wound.”

To know, that when the current that now The morn of our existence bad began In one and the same season, and we grew

This flesh, bas ceased its motion ;--there are Together through our helpless infancy;

friends, And when bright, laughing boyhood came, it

Who oft shall linger at my marbled grave, found

To think of him who slumbers "peath its sod." Our young arms linked tegether, every charm

He lingered a few days--the vital spark Which he delighted in, I ever loved ;

Went up to Him who gave it, and we weptEach thought of mine, was his, and his, was

The big tears of affliction, wet his bier mine.

From many an eye, for all had lost a friend. I sat me down upon a moss-grown stone

P. That lay beside his grave, and called him back, lo retrospection, through the “ vista dim"

THE TALISMAN Of intervening seasons, such as when

Is published every other Saturday morning I saw his maply and majestic form

by Dorr & Howland, Worcester, Mass, at One In the high prime of boyhood ; when the sun, Dollar a year, payable in advance. SubscripThe bright sun of maturity had shed

tions and communications may be directed as Its first bewitching glance upon his brow, above, (post paid) through the post office. 'Twas then he sunk, -upon his portly form, This paper will be forwarded to some of our Pale, chill disease spread out her raven wing; | friends, who otherwise would not know of its Just twenty glorious summer suna had shed existence. If it is received however, by any Their ripening beams upon him-his proud bark, one of them who does not wish to become a Of snowy sail and well-directed helm,

subscriber, a return of this paper, directed to Was in its gladdest waters--and the bow The Talisman, Worcester, by mail, will be a Of budding promise, which above him shone, Il sufficient intimation of the same.




wworcester Talisman.

NO. 2.

APRIL 19, 1828.


[ocr errors]


he dweli on a most interesting theme--the vir

tues of Alfred. “ Trust him Jape,” he would THE ORPHAN.

say, * with your whole soul." You shall not

be deceived. Tell him of the tribute which (CONCLUDED.)

I unceasingly pay to his unwearied exertions But there was one secret which Charles did to preserve me from the snares laid for my innot reveal, even to her. Constitutionally del perienced feet. He will shed tears of broth. icate, his intense application had undermined || erly sorrow over my grave, while he, for wbom his health; he felt it to be declining, but Alfred was forsaken, will remember me only hoped that after having made his last great as the pitiful dupe of his artifice. He would exertion at Cambridge, the change of air, the then lose himself in a tempest of conflicting society of his friends, and the season of relax. emotions. Jane trembled whenever be openation which he should allow himself, would re ed the subject; but when, for the last time, he store it, and he should he able to commence spoke upon it with unusual animation, and the study of law agreeably to arrangements. | closed with a solemn expression of resignation, But his manly countenance faded with the she felt that through the remainder of her pilfading beauties of the season, his secret be- grimage, this interview would be to ber an antrayed itself to his watchful friends, and, after chor of hope. lingering for a time, he yielded to their earn When Mr. Smith had buried his darling est solicitation, and took passage in a vessel hopes in the grave of his son, his attention was for New Orleans, as a last resource for regain- | turned to another object of tender solicitude. ing his health. Charles, freed from all re For many years, his felicily had been broken straint, soon became a leader in every scene by the consciousness, that the “worm in the of riot and profligacy. He was goaded by the bud” was feeding on the cheek of his wife. stings of self-reproach, and he hurried op to But the progress of desease bad been so grad

ual, that he had been induced to hope, they But his career was soon to close. A few weeks might declive along “the down-hill of life" before the period when the fond father had together. But Charles's sickness had called anticipated his sons return, fitted to adorn the forth all her energies: she had bestowed upon station for which he was intended, he did in-him a Mother's care, and when the stimulus deed return the worn out victim of his vices, to exertion was removed, she keeply felt the Urable any longer to endure the stimulants effects of her exposure. Jane too was exhaustwbich, alone, had supported him for a conside ed and spiritless, and the dejection of the rable time, his decline was excessively rapid. whole family was increased by receiving no in. lo his person, was seen the wreck of a fine telligence from Alfred. Mr. Smith resolved on manly form. In his mind, were the remains of taking a journey with his wife and daughter, affectionate and virtuous dispositions, not whol- li to divert their minds, and restore, if possible, a ly extinguished by a thorough acquaintance portion of health and cheerfulness. They prowith all that sullies the purity of the human ceeded to the West, visiting such places as soul. When again restored to the bosom of had been, either from natural or incidental his family, when he saw anxiety depicted, circumstances, rendered remarkable. Mrs. where he had been acustomed to behold on Smith's spirits revived. She grew cheerful ly smiles and cheerfulness, the upbraidings || and even animated. Her husband bailed these of his conscience were agonizing in the ex indications with joy, not suspecting that they treme. Viewing himself as the cause of the arose from a conviction in ber own mind, that change, it added pangs to the just sense, he upon her, death had set his seal. She had had of his own state. His father labored with but recently began to tread upon the thoros of out ceasing, to prepare him for his approaching | life, but they had pierced her to the heart, and change. He sometimes succeeded in tranquil | she was weary of the path. Jane war sunk in lizing his agitated mind and fixing his atten. melancholy. The haunts of gaiety and fashtiou, and Charles once answered to his earn ion, and the wonderful works of aature and est entreaties with a look of composure, and fashion were alike unheeded. even a gleam of hope." The Judge of all the Charles and Alfred were the subject of her earth' will do right." When alone with Jane, I thoughts by day, and her dreams by night.

The certain fate of the former weighed less with them. The obligation under which their heavily upon ber mind, than the mystery which acquaintance had commenced, induced the huug over the latter. But when her father re. || family to treat him with attention ; and this vealed to her his suspicions, that the mother opportunity for enjoying their society was too was wasting away, she roused her dormant congenial to his wishes not to be improved. He faculties, and became unwearied in her exer had first seen Jane at the table.- Her appeartions to render her every service. They now ance, her amiable manners, and the share approached the falls of Niagara, and Jane's cu which she took in the conversation, rivelted riosity was excited, when they came within his attention, and he ardently wished fur a hearms of its thunders. When they reached | further acquaintance; but finding they were the Falls, Mrs. Smith was unequal to the task strangers, who had only called to view the of surveying them, but she insisted on her hus. scene, and then to pass a way, he tried to abanband's leaving her with suitable attendance, | don the idea. Still, however, when they went and accompanying her daughter. Jane be out to survey the Falls, he followed in a sepaheld this wonder of the Western world with

rate group:

When he saw Jane's venturous silent awe and astonishment; she evinced more design, being acquainted with its dangers, he interest in the scene than in any before vis- || stationed himself near enough to give her his ited, and, with eager haste, stepped into the assistance, should she require it, and, thus, was boat which was to convey her to the Cana the desired introduction unexpectedly obtainda shore Here new wonders presented, and ed. He found, in Jane's society, a charm bewrought her feelings to the highest pitch of fore unknown, and much of their time was enthusiasm. Her inquisitive, energetic mind || spent together. In a few days, the family prenot content with a superficial survey, prompt.pared to return, and Montague resolved to deed her to expose its hidden secrets. Upon

viate a little from his direct route, to accomreaching the vast cavero formed by the pro pany them. On the day previous to their dejection of the Fable Rock, though its impene-parture, he said to her, “ Miss Smith, you have trable gloom, the thundering of the waters in treated me with unmerited confidence; but iis horrible abyss, and the tremendous rushing

one circumstance yet remains a secret-your of the waters from overhead, struck her with || dejection--the frequent tear which I have seen a force terribly sublime ; yet they did not dis stari uubidden from your eye, still more than suade her from her purpose of descending to your sable garb, bespeaks no common woe this dark recess, and venturing behind the may I ask who was the object of your bereavedge of the sheet. She did so, and as she trip

ed affections?" " A brother,” replied Jane, ped lightly along, a spectator might have fan. "an only brother, -but my keenest sorrows cied he beheld one of the Naiades of the St. are for the uncertaia fate of a friend-dearerLawrence seeking her home in its tremendous yes, still dearer to me.-Your tender concern bosom. But the next step proved her mortal- | merits my confidence, and my father will tel! ity, for the blast which constantly issues from you all." Jane was relieved, when Mr. Monits depths, met her with great force, and she tague emphatically answered, “ permit me, as turocd to effect her escape. Deprived of her far as possible, to supply the place of that breath she fell, and in the effort which Nature | brother.” They now felt that they understood ever makes to preserve herself, she caught the each other-all embarrassment was removed, corner of a projecting rock, to which she clung, and Mr. Montague, with a painful, but powthough insensible.

erful effort, vanquished those hopes which he “Am I safe?” said Jane, as her recollection had sometimes indulged, notwithstanding, that dawned, and she perceived that she grasped a whenever he had betrayed any marks of tenpillow, instead of the rock, which was the first derness, a most mouroful expression would image that presented itself to her memory. suddenly shade his countenance, and dash his Yes, my child,” said her father, “ compose hopes to the earth.

He accompanied them yourself, you are perfectly safe." " And how home, staid with them a short time, and prodid you deliver me from my perilous situation?" ceeded to New York. Jane's spirits were im. " It is to a lighter step and a firmer hand that proved, though the secret anxiety which she we owe your rescue ; for, had the little assist- | felt on Alfred's account, increased. But new ance which I could render, been your ouly | trials awaited her.- Her father was attacked safeguard, you would have been lost to us for by a fever, which soon hurried him to the ever. The stranger who restored you, waits to grave. He died in the full triumph of the bear of your recovery." “ He shall hear it,” | Christian. As he expressed himself, “there she replied, “ from my own lips.” The stran was but one tie that bound him to the world." ger, having had information of her recovery, || The sting of separation from his wife, was reaod, what he most wished to hear, that she moved, by the knowledge that their union would soon see him, was waiting in the parlor. I would be speedy. But on this occasion, bis As they entered, “ My daughter," said Mr. ll parting with Jane was embittered. - My Smith, “this is Mr. Montague; the gentleman child,” said he, “ could I have you under Alto whom we are so much indebted," as the || fred's protection, I should be resigned ; but salutation passed. Jane recollected having should he not return, I trust you will find a seen him at the breakfast table. Mrs. Smith protector in your new brother, and He, who was unable to travel, and Montague remained tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,' will not

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]


[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

forsake you.” Mrs. Smith did not long survive || thought, word, and deed, and the exuberance this second shock. She felt her end approach of her spirits was so chastened by delicacy and ing without one regret, except for Jane, and propriety, as to render her a delightfui comcommitting her to the care of Heaven, quietly panion. She was not insensible to Montague's passed away. Jane was now quite overpow virtues, and his offer, though unexpected, was ered, and as she had no motive for action, she taken under consideration. " May you be'as fell into a listless stupor. From this she was happy as I once was,” said Jane, affectionatearoused to painful sense of her situation, and || ly, “and oh! may you never know the pangs it was at this period, that she so emphatically | which I have known." « Oh,”' returned Ann, exclaimed, I am alone in the world. As she “I am happy with him or without him; but inherited the patrimony, she was solicited by he has made me believe, that without my fathe sympathizing villagers for permission for vor he should be unhappy, and I could not their new pastor to reside at the parsonage. bear the thought of that, you know.” Jane She acquiesced in their arrangements, and smiled at her sophistry, and thought that soon found herself a boarder in a strange fam- || Charles had not much to fear. ily, in her own house. But the attentions of Her garden now engrossed her care. She this family, particularly those of the pastor's was busily engaged in it, when the sudden cheerful, happy daughter, soothed her feelings. I stopping of the stage coach arrested her atten. Ann Wilson was a girl of great vivacity, ac tion. She turned towards it, shrieked “ Alfred companied by acute penetration. She felt for | Manton," and sunk lo the earth. He did not Jane's sorrows, and she possessed the happy see her, but went into the house, where, not talent of adapting her remarks to time and cirl meeting with one familiar face, a deadly sickcumstances, in the best possible manner, to ness came over his heart, but he durst not inbeguile her melancholy. The youthful heart, | quire the meaning of the change. Jane sumlike the tender vine, must cling to some object || moned all her self-control to compose herself for support. Jane already felt less ‘alone in the for the meeting: she entered by the garden world, and when she received a letter from door, and saw Alfred mute and motionless.' her new brother, Charles, as she loved to call When their feelings found utterance, they him, informning him that unexpected business could only learn from each other that both would sooo call him through the village, she had passed through the furnace of affliction, rem-mbered her father's assurance,and thought and come forth with hearts purified, but unthat the wind was indeed tempered to her.- changed. The trials they had suffered were Hope now took possession of her breast. She their daily theme of conversation.-And while felt a holy confidence ihat Alfred would be Alfred's aspirations of praise rose to the throne restored to her. While reason told her that of Heaven, that utter desolation had not enevery day added new causes for doubt and tered the house where he had passed the despair, she sometimes endeavored to convince morning of his life, he mourned the loss of Mr. herself of the absurdity of her hopes, but ihey || and Mrs. Smith as the loss of the good are alstill remained. “Oh! Jane,” said her gay ways mourned, -and did indeed shed tears of friend, one morning, “I have had the strang- || brotherly sorrow' over the grave of Charles. est dream-I thought that I was to be married Jane's trials are already known; an abbrevi. to Mr. Montague, that you were to be brides ation of Alfred's shall be given. “Our voyage" maid, and Alfred, groomsman.” “And does | said he, “ was prosperous and delightful, this exhilarate you so ? you forget that dreams | until one day when off the coast of Florigo by contraries." " For my own part,” re da, we discovered a strange vessel, which turned Ann, " I should choose they should, whether we sailed fast or slow, seemed to keep but for your sake, I am willing to put faith in al precisely the same distance from us. This them." As spring approached, Mr. Montague alarmed our fears, but when night was closing again mentioned in one of his postscripts, that in, we hoped, by spreading all our sail, to rid Jane might soon expect to see him. She com ourselves of her unwelcome company.

In municated the intelligence to Ann, and added, spite of our efforts she gained upon us, and all " will you believe that you have become an our fears were realised when she commenced object of jealousy? I cannot thiuk his sober | firing. We defended ourselves as well as we affection for me would prompt him so soon to could, but were soon boarded by the pirate's repeat his visit."

6. Oh, quiet your fears, I crew, when such a scene followed as I will not beseech you, there is little danger of such a attempt to describe. I had charge of a large giddy girl as I am, making any impression on sum of specie which the Captain had secreted such a saint as Mr. Montague ; besides, dreams for me. After extorting from him the place go by contraries, you know.”

6 Well, we of concealment for that and the other money, shall see," replied Jane ; “ you are gay, but they murdered him in the most barbarous man, not giddy, and he is not always so serious as While the crew were sharing the same when sympathizing with the child of affliction." || fate, I endeavored to prepare my mind to meet When he arrived, Jane rejoiced to find that death with fortitude. Till that moment, I those affections, which nothing but her superi- knew not the extent of your power over me ; or prudence had prevented from being wreck- your immage gave eloquence to my tongue, ed, were to be bestowed on her new friend.- and persuasion to my lips. I pleaded for life Gay as Ann Wilson was, she was pure in so earnestly, as to awaken the last spark of


pity in the pirates breast. They bound me, be kept in violate ; and crucifying the passion took me on board their vessel, scuttled ours for variety, he levelled every thesis with exand hurried away. “None are all evii." emplary pertinacity, at vice and povel reading. Though they could not liberate me without He had singular misgivings on the tendency endangering themselves, they never offered of women, and considered poetry as a wile of further violence, nor even suffered me to wit the devil. pess any, but left me concealed in one of the I came in one beautiful summer night, and West India Islands, (as I suppose) when they || Job was reading Byron ! If he had strapped a went on their pratical cruises, but so strictly razor on his bible, I should have been less guarded as to preclude all possibility of escape | surprized. He was sitting bolt upright, gazing or information. Their day of retribution is with intense eagerness on the book, aad rockcome ; they have been taken by surprise, and || ing to and fro like an incarnate hexameter. now a wait the sentence of the law. How are It was indeed a marvel. He had never to the good and ill of this life blended together. | my knowledge, committed an apostrophe ; he My long residence in that genial climate has had never outraged the blank leaves of his had the most favorable effects: I am restored || algebra with a rhyme; and on women and to health, and to you, and I should be ungrate- leather shoe strings, he was perfectly incorful to repine." Ere the close of Autumn, Jane rigible. From this time Job Clark lived in a had exchanged her sable weed for the bridal new world. He was like a man just couched wreath, and Montague was summoned to share for a cataract. He had never stopped to look in the nuptial festivities. While he and Ann at a glow-worm, nor had women and sunsets attended them to the altar, the latter archly ever reminded him of Paradise and the Peris. whispered, " Dreams go by contraries ;" and He was essentially blind, and now that he Jane smiled gracefully, as she answered "The || could see, his great Green Monntain heart wiod is tempered to the shora lamb, and I am was as full as a toy shop. Every thing was no longer alope in the world."

beautiful ; and every thing went through bis

veins like a whoie river of electricity. MISCELLANY.

If the sun came out of a cloud, Job popped

into a reverie ; and as to the moon, he was a If she be not fair for me,

perfect heathen-he worshipped her like an What care l how fair she be.

Ephesian. Somewhere out of the world, and in Vermont, In the full progress of this vein, he was unmy college chum was christened Job. It was der the necessity of leaving college to recruit the first word I ever heard him speak. He his funds. The situation of tutor in a genentered the room to my infinite dismay, the tleman's family offered itself and he took up evening of my adinission, surmounted by a his march on foot for a romantic gituation in chair, a table and a pine chest, which he the neighborhood of the Catskill. deposited with great deliberation ; then ad. It was the first time he had been abroad vancing to the centre, and passing his right since his metepmsychosis ; and, of course, it foot to the rear, ne ejaculated Job Clark, and was like travelling in a new star. He treasured stood in statu quo for a reply.

up mountains, rivers, and green fields, till his His personal appearance was decidedly Ver- | memory was like a painter's port folio. montese. He had a huge angular frame, prob He would sit down by the way side ; and ably seven feet in length; though, from rigidly with a mere brook for a thread of association, observing the line of beauty, his perpendicular the whole map of his pocket Arcadia expanded upon the plumb line would be five and a frac- || before him, and he revelled in roses like a very tion. His face was large and irregular, and Persiap. set with a nose like a crude amethyst. There The new Tutor was soon domesticated. was but one feature of Job's outer man that His duties, were few, and in themselves indicated the vein he afterwards exhibited ; | delightful. A family of intelligent children his eyes were of a light blue, very deeply seat for pupils, and a gentleman and lady of a high ed, and in better company wouid have been order of refinement, were better materials for expressive. I am not sure that he was aware happiness than had ever before fallen to his of this beauty ; or indeed that he had any lot. Why did I leave uut the beautiful Sophy? personal vanity. If there was any partiality | Simply because she is a whole paragraph by in his regard for his perfections, it leaved rath- || herself, and because I am not sure that I ought er to his hair. Of this I have one solitary evi to class her with Job's comforts. idence. He would raise his hand on Sundays She was just seventeen ; and as perfect a and holidays, and closing his two fingers on litle Venus as ever trifled with Dan Cupid. the small portion that graced his temples, coax She certainly had no more gravity than a it to an incipient curl. It resumed its position | child; but her mind was a perfect wonder. on Monday, and the point was neverinsisted on. She fairly reasoned Job out of his logic, and

During the first year, his attention to his puzzled him with problems, and out-flew all studies would have been no scandal to a Cam his romance, and anticipated all his philosophy. eronian; and of his temper, I need only say, If she raised her little hand for emphasis, he that it was proof against a Freshman ordeal. || despaired of his position; and if she looked up

His principles too,peculiar though they were, at a quotation, he knew it was wrong. She

« ZurückWeiter »