The Massachusetts spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1821-1823, 1822-09-11

highland ear. They love you, Anna
they wOuiddie for you, Anna; for they
have seen you with your sweet body in
silk and satin, with a Jewel on your
forehead, and pearls in your hair, NOV
ing TO musick in your husbands heredi-
tary hall and they have seen you, too,
in russell garb, and ringlets unadorned,
in their own smoky cottages, blithe and
free as some native shepherdess of the
hills. To the joyful and the sorrowful
art thou alike dear; and ALI my ten
antry are rejoiced when you appear,
whether on your palfrey on the heath
er, or walking through the hay or har-
vest field, or sitting by the bed of sick
ness, or welcoming, with gentle state
illness, the old withcred mountaineer to
his chieftain's gate.
The tears fell from the lady's eyes
at these kind, loving, and joyful words;
and with a sob she leaned on her hus-
hand's bosom. ooh, why, why, should
be sad in the midst of the undeserved
goodness of God Since the farthest
back time recollect in the darkness of
infancy, have been perfectly happy |
have never lost any dear friend, as SO
many others have done. My father and
mother live and love me we'll blessings
be upon them now and forever! You
love me, and that so tenderly, that at
times my heart is like to break. But
my husband, forgive me, pity me; but
upbraid me not, when | tell you that
my soul, of late, has often tainted within
me, as now it does for oh, husband,
husband, the fear of death is upon me !;
and as the sun sank behind the noun
tain, ! thought that moment of large
burial-place, and the vault in which |
am TO be inferred"
These words gave shock to her
husbands heart, and for few moments !;
he knew not how to cheer and comfort
her. Almost before be could speak,
and while he was silently kissing her
forehead, his young wife, somewhat
more composedly, said, {" strive against
it close my eyes to contain, to crush
the tears that feel gushing W from
my stricken heart; but they force their
way through, and my face is often rue
fully drenc.ed in solitude. We'll may
weep 10 leave this world-thee, my
parents, the rooms in which, for year
Of perfect bliss, have walked, sat, or
| slept il thy bosom-all these beautiful
woods, and plains, and hills, which |
have begun to feel every day more and
more as belonging to me, because am
thy wife. But, husband, beyond--far
far beyond them all, except him of
whose blood it is, do weep to leave
our baby that is bow un5orn.-aIay ii
live to comfort you, TO gladden. your
| eyes when | am gone yea, 10 bring
| tears sopetimes into them, VIXEN its face
of the mother who bore #, and die i f ffltt
it might see the day.
The lady rose up with these words
from her husbands bosom; and as "a
sweet baimy whispering breath Of wind
came from the broom on the rivers
bank, and famed her cheeks, she seem
ed TO revive from that responding
dream, and with a faint smile, looked
all around the sylvan bower. The
| cheerful hum OF the bees that seemed
to be Fastening their work among the
| honey-howcrs before the dark, the noise
of the river which had been uuheard
while the sun was setting, the loving Of
| the kline going leisarey homewards be-
fore eiriBfatt drivers; and the loud lofty
song cfthe b!ackhird in his grove-tbese,
and Il thousand other mingled influences
OF nature, touched her heart with ioy.
and her eyes became altogether free
tom tears. Her husband, who had
Teen deeply affected BY words SO new
10 him from her lips, seized these mo-
ments OF returning pence to divert her
thoughts entirely from such causelcss
terrours. TO this bower | brought
you to show you what Scottish land
scape was, the day after our marriage,
and from that hour TO this, every look,
smile, word, and deedof thine has been af
Ter mine own heart, except those foolish
tears. But the dew viii soon be on thu
grass SO come, my beloved: nay, will
not stir unless you smile. There, An
ma, you are your cwn. beautiful self a.
gain:n And they returned cheerful and
laughing, 10 the hall the lady'sf face be-
ing again as bright as Il a tear had never
dimmed its beauty. The glory of the
sunset was almost forgotten in the sweet,
far, nensiye silence Of the twilight, now
fast glimme1ng on to one Of those clear
simmer nights which divide, for few
hours, one Day from another, with their