The ladies' garland. [volume], October 27, 1827, Page 80, Image 4

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

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mined courage in pi-iils which they forsec, women j
are allowed to he blessed with u superior presence \
of mind in sudden dangers ; and perhaps the lat
ter is one of the most distinguishing characteristics
<d true courage.
COI.I.INS.
Nothing sec tn-. more unaccountahle than the ca
pt.ee of pu’die taste. I he poems of Collin', (.1
winch such mm.(tons impressions hate lately :
found a sale, wcn leecived with such coldness on !
their first publication, that the unhappy and disup- i
pointed author, in a lit of disgust and ind'goation,
burned the greater part of the copies with his own j
hand \ et this was the man, of the felicity ot '
whose genius I.anghornc speaks as approaching to
inspiration, in a passage to which Mr Itoscoe lias j
Igteh given a sanction, by citing it in his preface to |
the L.fu ofl.eo \
I:i what strung*^ torpor we re the f<tiic\, tlie feel
ings, and the tas'e id the nation buried, when they j
could receive v. h iud.itemice the Ode onihe l’ac- ■
sions, anil the Odes to l\ur and to Kerning 1—Hut j
these, pethaps, are too abstract for the multitude,
who cannot adm,re them till long established at;
tbority supersedes their own judgments. So it
was even with Milton, whose early compositions,
the Mycidus, 1.'Allegro, and 11 l’enseroso, the ven
essence of I’oetry, weie little noticed 1 >y hiscotem
poraries, while the vile doggrcl of such w retched
ihymers as Cleveland and llrome, and others of the
same stamp, was universally praised and admired.
Collins is a proof that he who gives up the reins
tn his fancy may act injurious!', to his own happi
j.css; but w ho can deny that he stands the best
chance of attaining the mantle of a poet ‘
MARRYING WITH A RING
The custom of man} iua: with a ring seems to j
iiavebe.cn first borrowed from the Romans, a- |
luong idium it u as usual lor tlie man to give his
inteiuled a small token of tins sort, as a sign of 1
c i
the contract between them. The ring itself was, I
Jn Pliny’stime, of plain iron,without any stone in !
it, hut was aftenvards made of gold. And this, it
seems, the engaged lair one always wore in !
qpen sight, as a sort of caveat employ, or no- ■
(tec of all ronceriiod, that she was no longer dis- j
engaged. And, hy the way, this practice was 1
obviously both honest and convenient, as it i
served to put sober gentlemen on their guard
against the possible air- of coquettes. And ae- !
eordingly wc find that the good father Turin! !
hail allows the C iiris!i::n Convert to wear it, and !
says very beautifully of her. she wore no gold
except upon the middle linger, which her be
trothed had circled with his mahimonia! iirig”
Afterwards, however, it seetns, the iir.g was on
ly given at the time of marriage. and then hav
g lost its original us" j came to he looked lip
1, a1- 1 looker saith, only as a little symbol “ to
■ stify mutual love, or rather to serve as a
pledge of conjunction in heart and mind agreed
. yon between them.'’
Still it is a very pretty mystic type, and
. . ’ a great deal to a lively fancy. Ti.-j ■, bc
d ' ! jslv a symb'l el perfec
tiun and of eternity, having neither beginning
nor end that we can see, is, of course, a proper
emblem of love that usually begins (except in
some romantic eases) without notice, and ought
always to be without end.
POETRY.
We recognise in the following lines, the warm
heart and generous sensibilities of the Author of i
the Aerial run Tin. Boston Hard and other works
of merit:
I ROM THE NORTH AMERICAN.
] IflLNllSIlIP’S COMPLAINT
/ crscs addressed to-, an cndearttl poeciitd
cor respond tut, on account oj his protracted stler.ee.
Sweet as the brea'hings of the vernal gale
That sports amidst the wild grape’s liagrant bow
ers ;
Or music fraught with Love’s enchanting tale
Breathed o’er some gentle lake in moonlight j
hours :—
(aateful as freedom's beams to captive’s eves,
\\ hen, forth from dungeon cells and darkness led, ;
He views again the smiling fields and skies,
And feels their breezy freshness round him shed:
Thus sweet—thus grateful—to nn tin I'.bng soul,
Heir thy lich messages of mind and lie-art,
When with thy friends thou dai'st my name enrol, ;
Loved minstrel I and to me thy smiles impart. j
Lor in thy lofty thoughts and glow ing strains
I saw disclosed that pure ellierial mind,
Whose power sublime, in rapture’s magic chains,
My fervid bosom’s strongest faith can bind —
Whose feelings high all sordid influence spurn—
To joys that spring from virtuous deeds, aspire— i
A in', u bile tip glotv’s heights they soar and burn,
Imbue with tuneful id: their charming Ivre.
But now, iilas (o me thy mind is scaled —
Months after months have rolled in gloom away
Since its bright thoughts, in kindest words revealed,
Illumed 11:% heart v. ith many acheeting ray.
Thy silence, cold as winter’s freezing breath,
lias withered half my bosom’s dearest joys ;
And still, relentless as the frown of death,
Its lingering blooms of anxious hope destroys.
0 why to me thy proffered hand extend,
Aral bind me to thy breast with noble zeal 1
\\ by didst thou claim me as thy valued friend,
And own for me a brother’s luve to tecl !
Could l in aught thy generous trust betrav }
How, how could I, m language or in deed,
With cold return thy kind regards repay,
When for thy weal my faithful breast would |
Lleed}
1 hough poor my thoughts, and unadorned my st) lc,
\et from my heart’s profoundest depths they
flow,
Unstained by selfish taint—untinged w ith guile—
And warm with bland affection's purest glow.
Impervious mystery on thy silerwe tests—
But still I would believe tby vows sincere ;
Still fondly hope that ours are kindred breasts
Whose friendship time shall strengthen and en
dear.
Then from mv heart this painful weight remove,
No longer chill me with neglect’s cold blight;
I.et me again, sweet Bard ! thv kindness prove—
Oh put these fears—these torturing doubts to
flight! V. B.
Alexandria.
From the Atlantic Souvenir, far 18ii7.
TO MELAX I HE.
Is it a bliss to see a crow d
Gazing on thee,
Oi like a gilded insect, proud
In flattery sun thee ’
Is there not a dearer thing,
Than when a fop, with painted wing.
Too poor to bless, too weak to sting,
Dreams he lias won lhce?
Is it a bliss to think thy charms
Arc lauded ever ;
That all would rush into thy arms
And leave thee never ?
O ' is it not a sweeter thought,
That only one thy love has sought .
And in les soul that love is wrought
So deep it cannot sever ?
Is it a bliss to hear thy praise
l!y all repeated :
To dream around of sunny days,
Then find thee cheated }
O 1 happier the hidden flower
M illnn a far secluded bower,
Whither some mind of gentle power
Has lung retreated.
Is it not bliss to hear thy name
from lips so holy f—
O ! better than the transient flame,
That circles folly.
If thou art lovely, thou wilt find
Pure worship from so pure a mind ;
And love, that will not leave behind
One taint of melancholy.
J. G. Pehcivai.
HIOM THE NEW IOI1K EVENING TOST.
THE LEGEND 01’ I HE HOCKS.
A volume entitled the Legend of the Hocks and
other poems, by James Nack, lias been put into our
hands The author is a young man who has been
educated at the Deaf and Dumb Institution in this
city, and these poems contain numerous pathetic
allusions to the misfortune under which he labors.
In reading the volume before us, we could not
hut feel surprised at the circumstance that a person
deprived of the sense of hearing should always
gite such perfect rhymes, and preserve the mea
sure with such uniform accuracy and attention to
the quantity. In addition to the merit of smooth
versification many passages deserve the praise of
being written w ith great feeling and no inconsidera
ble beauty. The follow ing stanzas from the Min
strel Hay, of the poems of this collection, are a fa
vorable specimen of the voik.
Earth ! thou art lovely—loveliest in this—
Hy woman—a..gel woman ! thou ait trod ;—
Woman, the centre of our ev’ry bliis ;
To man the dearest boon receit’d from God ,
Whom, if creation w ere condemn'd to miss,
Chaos again bis desolating rod
O’er the dominion he has lost, would sway,
And earth, with all her charms, become his prev
Earth ! thou art fair and glorious, hut all
f hy beauty and thy glory'aro a shade,
That low beneath the hand of time must fall :—
And Woman ! must thou too in dust be laid
Ah no! the beauteous fetters that enthral
The spirit, are only decreed to fade ;
The spirit on a seraph's glowing w ing,
From earth shall to its native heaven spring.
Thine earthly shrine is but thy prison—still
Such loveliness is flung around thee here,
That as it beams before mine eyes, they fill
At times, unbidden, with the tremulous tear.
And through my bosom shoots a painful thrill
To thilik that aught so beautiful—so dear—
Should to the hand of death resign its bloom.
A trophy te en wreath around the tomb 1