The ladies' garland. [volume], October 07, 1826, Image 1

About The ladies' garland. [volume] (Harpers-Ferry, Va. [W. Va.]) 1824-1828

Image provided by: West Virginia University

                
fffjr WLftoitu* KjiiliutH.
HARPERS-FERRY, VIRGINIA, OCTOBER 7,1826. NO. 35.
VOL. 3i
PUBLISHED EVEIlI SATrHDAT EVENING,
BY JOHN S. GAI-I.AHER,
At the (ij/tce of the Virginia Free Press.
TERMS.—One dollar and fifty cents per annum,
payable quarterly in advance ; or one dollar and
twenty-five cents, to be paid at the time of sub
scribing-. Payment in advance, from distant sub
scribers, who are not known to the publisher, will
invariably be expected. Should payment be defer
red to tile end of the year, $2 will be required.
*.* Postage on all letters MUS I' be paid.
THE REPOSITORY
A FRAGMENT.
-I saw a fair and beautiful hand
,'iace a gailand of fresh and fragrant flowers
upon her brow ; she who received it was fairer
and lovelier --till lhan they ; her dark liquid blue
vyes were beaming forth the expression of her
happiness; her smile was radiant as the light of
heaven, and her whole figure expressed the gay
and buoyant feelings of her soul—she wore a
single white rose in her hair, and I knew she
was a bride !
He, the gallant and proud Ue Ranee, stood
gazing upon her with the high rapture of a hap
py lover: the past, the future, all seemed forgot
" n tn that moment ot exquisite happiness and
of proud triumph ; she was his, all his; her
beauty, her confidence, her tenderness, her
genius, her virtues, all were his, and he felt it
would be bliss enough for him to devote his
>\ hole life to her.
i do not know of any thin<^ more delightful
than to witness the full and joyous expression
of conscious happiness; that pure unclouded
ray of light which seems to emanate from the
soul, and which beams glowingly and tenderly
upon the ob ject of one's affection ; like the rain
bow- on the clouds, it seems to seal the promise,
of future happiness : and ret it does not last ;
ami as I looked upon the brilliant creature, ani
mated and inspired, as she appeared, with the
enchanting sentiments which filled her voung
and happy heart, 1 said to myself •• that garland
will fade, and so will that smile.” As she turned
away, a flower dropped from her luidal wreath ;
I placed it in my bosom and passed on
1 he beautiful vision 1 had seen saddened me:
it was the reality of happiness, and vet it ap
peared to me like a passing shadow : 1 mused
on the transitoriness of human en joyment; 1
thought the young, the gay, and the beautiful,
are crowned with garlands of (lowers; they
bind Ihem around their brows, and think that
happiness shall last forever; but it is not so, for
the loveliest and the happiest weep, and tears
are mingled often, even with their brightest
joys: the loveliest and the happiest die ; and
that which gives the bitterest sting to death is,
they are forgotten, even by those whose light,
whose joy, whose heaven they were.
Those who received the homage of society •
who were objects of unbounded admiration ;
those whose beauty kindled the glow of love in
a thousand hearts; and those whose genius
seemed the very inspiration of heaven, pass
away, and are forgotten as though they had ne
ver been.
I know not if the most splendid genius, the
most elegant and powerful talents, the most
divine beaut}-, or the most impassioned and
devoted affection, can insure to us the recollec
tion of those who survive us ; and if there is a
thought lull of bitterness, which has power to
humble the pride of the loftiest mind, and
which subdues and saddens the tender and
confiding heart, it is that, ft is true, that the
most universal homage paid to our memories,
the most splendid monuments, and the most
public demonstrations of sorrow and regret,
could not affect our feelings in the world of
spirits ; but it is a sweet and consoling thought,
that our names, and our virtues, and our talents,
and the efforts of our genius, and above ail, that
our devotion and tenderness will be held in
grateful remembrance by those who have loved
with unchanging fidelity ; but it is not always
the heart that cherishes us the most kindly,
which loves us with enthusiasm, with religious
devotion, that preserves the remembrance of us
the most in\ iolably; time heals the deepest
wounds death e\er made ; new impressions and
new attachments fill up the void in the most de
solate heart; love’s brightest, fairest, and most
brilliant image, fades like an evening tint away,
when the veil of death shadows it, and there is
enough of sadness and melancholy regret in the
thought, that love alone cannot transmit to
pesterity the names of those it worshipped ;
! kut it is the echoes of fame, and not the soft
j silver tones of love, that must perpetuate the
j name that would live immortal, even amidst the
| perishing and transitory things of this world.
—- It was just two years from the
uuy on which f saw the beautiful Cora crowned
with the. bridal wreath in the freshness and
splendor of her beauty, in the full consciousness
ol unalloyed happiness, and in the possession of
the impassioned arol tender affections of a gene
rous and confiding heart ; surrounded by all
that was delightful and valuable in life; tie- idol
of all that knew her; filled with health, hope,
and love—it was just two years from that day I
saw her laid iri the dark and silent tomb!— De
Ranee was weeping over it; desolate, and pas
sionately he wept over the lonely (lower his
love had cherished, and all nature seemed to
mourn with him; the dry anti withered leaves
of autumn lay scattered around him ; the flow
crs w ere all faded, and every tiling appeared to
respond mournfully to the deep and melancholy
feelings of his own heart.
The softer shadows of twilight hail rendered
every object almost indistinct; hut 1 saw him
still kneeling and weeping over the grave of his
beloved and beautiful Cora.
Young people arc apt to presume on long
life; but on what ground ? Have they an a<
surance ? No, not for an hour. Is it a rare
thing for young people to die? Go into any
church yard, and learn the contrary from the
records of the tombs. Have you any security
in the vigor of your constitution, from the me
lancholy change produced by decay and death ?
“ So have I seen a rose newly springing from
the clefts of its liood, and at first it was as fair
as the morning, and fair with the dew of hea
ven, as a iamb's fleece: but when a ruder
breath had forced open its virgin modesty, and
dismantled its too youthful and unripe retire
ments, it began to put on darkness, and to de
cline to softness and symptoms of a sicklv age.;
It bowed its head and broke its stalk, and at
night, having lost some of its leaves, and all its
beauty, it fell into the portion of weeds am!
worn out faces.’’
KI,K< .ANT EXTHACT.
The female mind is naturally credulous, a.
fectionate.and, in its attachments,ardent—If in
lier peculiar situation, her assiduities must u.
any decree be culpable, let us remember that r
is but a frail vessel of refined clay. When tin
awful record of her errors are enrolled, mat
that si"l* that was breathed for the misery of a
fellow mortal, waft away the scroll, and the
tears which flowed for the calamities of others
float the memorial down the stream of oblivion'
on the errors of women let us look with the al
lowance and humanity of men. Enchanting
woman, thou balm of life ! soother of sorrow 1
solace of soul! without thee, how heavily would
a man drag through a dreary world ! hut if tl ..
white hand of a fascinating female be twim
around his arm, how joyous, how lightly doli
he trip along the path !
The warm and tender friend, who in tin
most trying situations retains her loudness, and
in every change of fortune preserves unabat
ed love, ought to be embraced as the best
benison of heaven—the completion of earthlv
happiness. Let a man draw such a prize in the
lottery of life, and glide down the stream of ex
i.-feiice with such a partner, neither the cold.
a verier! eye of the summer friend, nor the frow i.
of ad' erse fortune should produce a pang, t
excite a murmur.—'Ireland's work*