The father once had loved, been wived, was blest, At least he thought so, as most husbands do; But, to say truth, a husband ne'er carest A lovelier woman-years pass'd, one or two, In happiness and sunshine, still the zest Of his intense affection seem'd quite new; And it had kept so longer, but a friend, A viper, stung his peace-he saw it endAnd took his child, and fled his home, and went He knew not whither-home had ceased to be A home for him-no more could sweet content Dwell on the bitter spot where memory Corroded his heart's core, a punishment Too sharp for his broke spirit:-years had he Lived there apart from men; his son had now Grown up with manly youth upon his brow. The father ne'er of woman to him spoke; She had sear'd his May of life: haply he thought The poignancy of his affliction's stroke Might blunt at last if he against it fought, By stern resistance, and by suffering nought Might never Valentine throw in her way, Oh, what a living hell it is to feel The anchor of our lives tear up and part! That which we hang by-that to which we kneel As to an idol graven on the heart: The refuge from life's tempest, where we steal As to a sanctuary:-wherefore is the smart So merciless of this unequall'd ill, As just to keep us living and not kill! Thus many a year went over, others came They never parted, save when hunting game Of their fresh-kindled fire, and cook'd their food, And Valentine oft from his sire attain'd Much varied lore by observation gain'd In the creation's system, in astrology, The use of plants, of animals, and their kind'; But he was ne'er annoy'd about cacology, Nor muddling whims like Kant's upon the mind, In a dull hermit life, like that they led, The father was a secret man; at best His breast was a closed temple free for none- At the hour of dead night, and sigh alone Of blighted love and her who once was dear. Fell on the unconscious youth-'twould be but one— Of wood and thicket, where the sight was brave Lay cultured fields on which rich harvests wave He stood stock still, conjecturing and surmising What could have raised them with such skill, and who Might be the creatures domiciled within Such curious shelters from the wild storm's din. Were they like him, in shape and colour fair?— Had they legs, feet, arms, hands and heads, or wings Or were they strange and shapeless forms of things Or feather'd like an eagle?-Thus he mused In such strange ignorance rear'd could e'er have done : A hundred yards; the evening cool and fine And he was stepping homeward hastily, When rich sounds broke upon his ear-divine In holiness of music, soft but clear, And not of earthly seeming to his ear. They rose and fell in gushes, as the sound The purple light goes darkling by degrees : Whence it proceeded, and behind a tree He stood and gazed from whence the notes had come~ With heaven's own beauty,-for he had been taught Bright fancies of each glory and each guest Of forms and beings, he now saw outdone: To breathe for vision, and alone to be One of these forms of loveliness was tall, And seem'd beneath the dark green shade to be A dream of light; her hand and arm were small, And with their alabaster, clasp'd a tree In her reclining; her rich hair, let fall Over her low full shoulders, to her knee In fine light ringlets reach'd-her eyes were blue, With raven locks that waved in graceful flow Of fascination round her black eyes met, The blue eyes look'd all languor, faith and love, What wonder the youth stood like one bereft So near strange beings;-but it was not clear Into amaze, and something haply near Where they were born and dwelt; the youth each eye Alternate rubbed. Was he awake? appeal He made to memory successfully, And it was not a vision! Then he gazed Valentine told his anxious, waiting sire The sights he witness'd, asking what they were, Those strange and lovely beings;-to enquire Was natural; but the sire would not declare The truth to his young ear; but with desire To hold him safe within deception's snare, Nor faith, nor honour; while their every will They are the loveliest creatures ever head They mock to scorn. Father, these fairies shed If I can flee, should they descend again ;— Would they were meet companions for us men!"— "How sweet this wild wood and this cave would be, I can't help thinking either," Valentine Whisper'd to his young bosom secretly, Yet check'd himself, as fearing to repine, Or doubt his parent's cautiou-" if with me The thick wild vine that spreads above us here ;- Here I must close abruptly. If he went A sigh towards them, I'll not now reveal :— And in the woods for life his limbs conceal, For they were manly, made for woman's eye :- L. LETTER FROM MISS INDIGO AT WORTHING, TO HER FRIEND MIS'S MARIA LOUISA MAZARINE IN LONDON. "I know very well that those who are commonly called learned women, have lost all manner of credit by their impertinent talkativeness and conceit of themselves;-it is a wrong method and ill choice of books that makes them just so much the worse for what they have read." Swift's Letter to a Young Lady. AH! my dearest Maria Louisa! you who are still enjoying at the Institution the lectures of the most elegant of all professors; you who twice a week have an opportunity of witnessing his ingenious experiments in pneumatics, aerostatics, and hydrostatics, while he explains all the different 'ologies of the alphabet, from anthology to zoology! you who are, perhaps, at this moment inhaling the gas of nitrous oxide or gas of paradise, how do I envy you your sensations and associations! Most joyfully do I sit down to perform my promise of writing an account of my journey to Worthing, not to indulge in the frivolous tittle-tattle to which so many of our sex are addicted, but to attempt a scientific journal worthy of our studies, and of the opportunities afforded us by our constant attendance at so many of the learned lectures in London. Nothing occurred on the road worthy of particular mention: the indications of the barometer, the mean temperature of the thermometer, and the contents of the pluviometer, will be found in the tables which we have agreed to interchange weekly. In the meadows through which we occasionally passed, I observed several fine specimens of the mammalia class of quadrupeds, such as the bos taurus, or common ox; the ovis aries, of Linnæus, or sheep; the equus caballus, or horse; the asinus, or ass, both Jenny and Jack; and the capræa hircus, or common goat, both Billy and Nanny. By-the-by these vulgar methods of discriminating genders are very unscientific, and may often lead to mistakes. Learned language cannot be too precise. In the hedges, I recognised some curious flowers, particularly the bellis, of the order polygamia superflua, vulgò the daisy; the cardamine, to which Shakspeare has given the vulgar name of the lady's smock; the caltha, or marigold, with its radiated discous flower, to which the lower orders assign a coarser appellation; culverkeys, mentioned in Walton's Angler; mithridate mustard, or charlock; the primula, or primrose; violets, you (remember Shakspeare's sweet lines "Violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's cyes, Or Cytherea's breath;") lolium and fumaria, or darnel and fumatory, ingredients in the wreath of the broken-hearted Ophelia; together with several fine specimens of the carduus, or common thistle. |