Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1826-12-09

Only reveals thy darker ruin,
The guilt-seared heart that will not break,
The damned despair of thy undoing:
Like meteor lights In midnight gloom,
Deepening the darkness vainly hid
Within a ioul but painted tomb
proud but mouIderins pyramid.
The purple robes that round thee wave,
Mockng the form they veil, reveal
The riot of living grave,
The heart that loathes what il must feel
Rcmorse that feeds on deep disgrace,
Despair that spurns atonemeats power,
Still pictured in a laus hing face
All--ull the work Of one dread hOur
Thou s,andest in the public way,
Woong the wretch to thy despair,
Yet on thy brow a brighter day
More'darkly shows the horrors there ;,
The painted pallor on thy cheek,
The wasting Of thy wanton form,
The ugony no words Can speak,
The snawing OF the poison worm.
Barred from the hope that points our way
To happier realms and purer skies,
THU ever lingerest DER the day
That sealed thy hopeless ugnnies,
And as the thought Of what thou art
Comes DER the memory olthy fame,
1t leaves hell within thy heart;
And iniamy upon thy name.
Thy wanton eye-poor child OF woe
Seems lighted at the demons shrine,
II lures to doom--to madness-oh!
To doom and madness such as thine
Thou art q woman-woman lost
To all the hopes of woman's fame
Alas mot hell i.se can boast
fend like woman doomed to shame.
They mock and .corn-I pity thee,
Poor victim of confding faith.
Affections martyr--yet not free
To meet the martyrs blessed death
When in deep anguish thou dost think
or her that bore, that blessed, that nursed thee,
Oh, can We marvel thou shoudst drink
Oblivion O: tho hour that cursed thee'
When driven forth from heart and home
BY thy uneeling fathers curse,
What but despair could seal thy DOOM
Could want atone or make thee worse:
-Frail woman in thy best estate
Too prone to err-to doubt too true
On whom shall rest thy penal fate
When in the awful judgment due'
Thy face is gay--thy form is fair,
Thy voice sounds light and cheerful now,
But read shudderiDg horror there,
And loathng branded on thy brow,
Co. go thy ways nought can redeem
The erring heart that errs like thine
Lost to oearth's--heaven's--thin own esteem
Poor victim TO tho demons shrine
We have read a number Of attempts of this kind.
and among Others that by Miss CHAMBERS, who. Q
talents as dramatic writer, we have had hume
rous reasons to admire-and candor compels US TO
say, that the stanzas TO the Courtezan, by the wr
ter in the Memorial, in point of delcacy and die
ton, far surpasses hers. Criticism might, howev.
er object to the severity Of the following .anza--
Thy face is gay-thy formis fair,
Thy voice sounds light and cheerluln now,
But read shuddering horror there,
Aud oa,hing branded on thy brow.
Go, go thy ways! nought can redeem
The erring heart that errs like thine
Lost to earths--heave en's--thne own esteem
Poor victim to the demons shrine !
The denunciat ions contained in this stanzas, al.
though they are nothing more than the eferves-
scence Of the poets imagination, TOO severe and
are not warranted by the liberal licences Of fiction
and poetry. The Courtezan, although reduced to
the lowest grade o depravity, and rendered odiou.
IN the eyes oil neD religion teaches US, not so lar
removed from the presence OF the Almighty, who
has said he will listen to the supplcations OF the
wretched even if they be made at the eiepenh hour
II. 10 be everlastingly lost. This, however, indul-
gng rather too far in censure when the real merit:
OF the performance are contrasted, and we retire
IRON the beautiful poem, without offering another
word bv the way of comment.
Among the best and most Interesting efusions
that give charm to The Memorial, is that entitled
the Warriors Song, which we suspect was written
by MIR. HILL, the Editor. 10 this, however. we
NAV be mistaken, and If we are, we do not think he
will blame u., for a,,ributing TO his pen poem, SC
largely partaking of the "drap, from Helicon."--