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Not unloving was thy accent, not of anger was thy blush,
When the words 'I love you!' came to break the twilight's holy hush.

But the lip on mine that quivered, and the crimson on thy brow,
Seemed to say with chiding fondness :Canst thou doubt I love thee now?'

Doubt thee! - if from out the silence of the sky a voice had rung,
Saying • Doubt her!' all the closer to thy heart I would have clung.

Then the distant gleaming glory of the stars appeared to lie
Reflected in the lustre of thy timid upturned eye.

Then I seemed to hear life's volume closed with soft and muffled sound,
And a whisper, saying, 'Read no more; thou hast the secret found !

But to-night the stars have lighted their mournful fires again,
And to-night my heart is saying, “ Did she love thee even then?

• Didst thou think, in that sweet moment when her kisses lightly fell, That to-night the only accent on thy lips would be 'Farewell !!!

Yet it must be; through the midnight with a dreary, hopeless tone,
The wind the word repeateth, and repeateth that alone.

I must sift thee from my spirit; I must sever thee from thought ;
In the net of my remembrance must thy image ne'er be caught.

There were hopes my heart had guarded ; let them perish in their prime;
Let no answer to their longing come from out the future time.

There were springs that blessed life's journey ; let me never of them taste :
There were green spots where we rested ; let them be a barren waste.

It was summer when I met thee, and with hues as bright and gay
As the summer's wooing blossoms, dawned love's twilight into day.

It was autumn when we parted, when the flowers no more were fair,
When the maple tossed his bloody arms upon the frosty air.

So the autumn of the spirit came with sudden step on me,
And, with hues at death the brightest, fell the leaves from passion's tree.

Wherefore do I speak of passion ? here are words that seem to rise
From its hotliest blazing altar, from its purest sacrifice.

Did they spring from young Affection ? did they Truth's impression wear?
No! the Falsehood looked from out them with a leaden, mocking stare!

Brighter blaze, ye flames that flicker, fiercer yet, ye embers, glow,
While amid your red embraces this faithless scroll I throw!'

All is dark; amid the forest of the pines with sullen roar

The midnight wind is saying, 'No more, oh! never moro!' Hallowell, Maine.

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Then dig away, ye sons of toil !

Root out the last year's stubble;
Plant, sow and reap, until the soil

Its greatest yield shall double ;
Here is a hungry army come

Your hoarded heaps to find,
And it will sweep them all, nor leave

A gleaner's share behind.


“Halloo, my Fancie! whither would'st thou go!"

It was my fortune, during the period of early manhood, to become acquainted with a lady of delightful conversational power, much energy and vivacity of mind, and great goodness of disposition : my senior by many years; and who, with the tact that properly belongs to her bright sex, found diversion, and perhaps interest, in examining the impulses of a young unpractised existence of the other sex, where the heart still promised, what the fancy drew.

Perhaps it may have been in reward of the docility and frankness with which I submitted to the analysis, and exposed unreservedly my hopes and fears of after-life to her judgment; perhaps it may have been impulsively and without premeditation, that she raised the veil from off a picture of domestic lífe, (of which we had been conversing,) and gave me a lesson that I have never since forgot.

Young, ardent minds of either sex look forward in this country to that state of untried being,' called MARRIAGE, almost with the dreamy imaginings of fear and hope with which they regard an interchange of worlds. • Love, says Madame de Stael, which is a mere episode in the life of man, forms the life of woman.' But this observation, applicable and just to our sex in Europe, is far less exact in America, where those of our youth, who deserve the name of American Youth, labour on from day to day, in hope, in industry, in ceaseless toil, in self-denial; picturing to themselves, as the precious reward of a long course of purity and exertion, the perspective joy of sharing the fruits of this life of untiring labour with the one Being to whom they can ever say, “Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thon lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but Death part thee and me.'

This is Love. This is Marriage. This is Love and Marriage in America. This is that state of unity of which the ALMIGHTY hath said, * And they twain shall be one. That spiritual union, of which the community is perfect; in which thoughts that spring up, and have their root in the one soul, grow, and bourgeon, and effloresce, throughout the


whole being of the other. Flowers of the one mutual existence; aspirations of the one perfect heart. Perfect, because of it's being one made of twain. Like the binary Stars of upper Heaven. Like the indissoluble union of Light and Heat. Like Truth and Love direct from the bosom of God, intermarried with each other in the beam that gives us Life! Quiet thyself now, my Fancie, and tell us, in her own words, the story of the vivacious lady.

"I am born, as you know, of one of the old Huguenot families of South Carolina. I inherited hardly any thing that could be called fortune, and had still less pretension to that which is considered beauty. But my education had not been neglected, and I had been brought up with the utmost care by parents with whom I was long in constant intercourse, and who were distinguished by that .grace beyond the reach of art,' that refinement of thought and manner, that I believe come into the world only with one small class of our species.

• With these slight advantages it was with great pleasure, not unmingled with surprize, that I found myself, on my first Visit to the North, addressed by one of the most agreeable young men that I had ever chanced to meet. Like myself, he was of good family and small fortune. He had been admitted to the bar, and was struggling to acquire that professional eminence which to my mind has ever been far above the distinction that is conferred by mere wealth. I entered into all his plans with a deep, full heart. I longed to struggle by his side; to animate him with my own fervour; to cheer him in his exertions; and, in the visions of the day, it was my delight to share in advance the promised fame of his future eloquence and rank. In short, I loved him; and we were married.

• The halcyon days of our early union passed like a dream of joy as beautiful, as bright, and I have sometimes thought, as fleeting ! - for the transport with which he used to return homeward soon passed away. The animation with which he used to depict the cases at court and to recite the arguments of counsel on either side was no longer to be seen, or felt, or heard. He seemed no more to cherish the hope of success, but entered the house, careworn, oppressed, and fatigued; and I had ceased to welcome him at the door.

• Frequently I retired to my chamber, when he left me for the office, questioning myself to know by what fatal change I could have forfeited his love. Good Gop!' I said, “have compassion upon me! It was all that I had of value, and it is taken from me! I gave myself utterly to him! I staked my all upon the hazard of this die. It is cast. I have lost, and am forever ruined! In what have I changed? He did not expect fortune with me! He knew that I had no beauty! He must have seen that the slight attraction I possessed was drawn from him, as planets borrow from their Sun. I am undone, undone forever! My husband! my husband's love is lost, lost to me!!

The habit of brooding over such thoughts as these had, of course, its effect upon my health and spirits. I lost much of the freshness of youth, and all its buoyancy of manner. When my husband came home, he encountered my swoln eyes, and trembling lips, and misplaced colour, and without a word of explanation between us, we seemed tacitly

to have arrived at the fixed conclusion that we had been each mistaken in the other, and were altogether unfit for the relation in which we stood. A distance that seemed every day extending was interposed between us. We both suffered deeply, but grew too proud for any explanation or advance :

*Had we never lov'd so kindly,

Had we never lov'd so blindly,
Never met, or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.'

* At this juncture the seasons changed, and brought on to the North the usual concourse of Southern visitors. Among them was a dear friend of my lost mother. She visited me repeatedly, and gazed on me with her dark inquiring eyes. One morning, while we were examining the house together in which I lived, she was shewn to my chamber. She placed one chair opposite another, and desired me to sit down. She took both my hands in hers, and regarded me as if she would have exchanged eyes. The door was closed, and we sat together a moment in silence.

"Do you know, my child,' said she, in her calm still way, that I strongly suspect you to be a mere simpleton? You fancy that you have lost your husband's love; confess to me, is it not so ?'

*I could only reply with my tears, which I felt to be coursing down my cheeks.

"I thought it was so. I knew it to be so. Yes! it is the period for the first trial of married life where marriage is destined to be happiness. Look at these hands — which she held in hers — these beautiful hands?

- Mr. WATERS, in those days my hands were considered beautiful.'• Madam,' I replied, they are always regarded and cited as models for sculpture'— these hands, which are precisely those of your mother,' she went on, 'these hands are married to each other; animated by one spirit, born to aid, and strengthen, and gratify each other; individual existences, but only perfect when united: what could they do apart? how perfect in their sympathy for each other! Think of all the offices that they perform together! Are they not one in every action of life! Do any words, or expressions of affection, or of passionate regard pass between the two? and yet what would not the one do for the comfort and happiness of the other ?

** This is the state which you and your husband have attained. Delight in it. It is incomparably superior to the feverish existence by which it was preceded. Have this figure always in your thoughts. Meet him to-day when he returns home as the cheerful tranquil everready left-hand, without which the right could little do, but which is far inferior to the right in strength and skill, and be assured that all his past love is trifling compared to the sensation which you now awaken in his heart.'

• Upon this hint, I changed my course towards him. I have ever done so. I have exacted nothing, and have regained his heart, and have been truly happy; and the day is never to be forgotten by me when I saw that my husband, in regarding me, gazed on me with a look of long-sustained delight as the mother of his boy.

I have written out this essay with interest, for I know that it will be

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