Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-05-16

VALLEY OF lEMPE.-lne genius VINO so
strequently makes an unne cessary display of his
ignorance, Of the meaning Of words, and his en-
tire ignorance Of many Of the branches of use
full knowledge, which are essential to the COM
mon Newspaper writer, the last week under
took to say something to us relative to the
Vale of Tempe, valley in Thcssaly, said to
have been the place where the Gods once re-
sorted, to recreate amidst its cooling shades.
If the gentleman had at ali enlightened us,
we should have presented him our sincere
thanks, but as he has not, we are not under
any particular obligations to him for the kind
Offices he has undertaken to perform in our be-
half A week or two since, we undertook to
correct Mrs. Colvin, Of an error into which she
had unconsciously run, whilst copying
beautiful efFdsion by r. H. Wilde, Esq. Of
Georgia, and in doing which, she strangely
transformed Tempe, into Tempest, thus MAX
ing sense, nonsense. We had scarce made
the rrcction, when our learned and classi-
cal neighbour, informed US that we were in cr-
ror, and that the stanzas originally run thus
"My life is like the prints which feet
Have left on Tdmpa's desert strand"
and that Mr.. Wilde alluded to the Sandy shore
of Tampa Bay on the West Coast of Florida! 1t
is thus that the gentleman Of the Bolivar Gaz-
cite, and Santiago Chronicle, makes the
Coast Of Florida, Cape Cod, and Seekonk
plains, classical grounds. This he is at liberty
to do, Us often as he peases, and if he is dis
posed to associate the Gods and the muses.,
with Alligators, Mus queteos and cells, we have
no objection but it is not probable that the
Gods, Goddesses and the MUSES., would be par
ticularly pleased with the arrangement.
The writer of whom we are speaking, says
that the stanzas, have been published, about
| ten years; and to expose his entire ignorance
relative to them, we will furnish slight sketch
of their history. They were originally pub
| lished, from the original manuscript, by Wilson
| Cary Nicholas, late an officer of the United
States army, in the Flordian" in the year
1s2o---seven years ago, and we now reprint
them from the original copy.
| My life is like the summer rose,
That opens to the morning sky,
| But, ere the shades of evening close,
| Is scattered on the ground to die
Yet on that roses humble bed,
The sweetest dews of night are shed,
| As if she wept such waste to see /;
! But none shall weep tear for me.
| My life is like the autumn leaf,
That trembes in the moons pale ray,
| Its hold is frail I; its date is brief -
Restless-and soon to pass away -
Yet ere that leaf shall fall and fade,
The parent tree shall mourn its shade.
The winds bewail the leafess tree
But none shall breathe a sigh for me.
My life is like the prints, which feet
Have left on Temples desert strand,--
Soon as the rising tide shall beat,
| All trace will vanish from the sand -
| Yet, as if grievng to etface
All vestige Of the human race,
| On that lone shore, loud mourns the sea (;
| But none, alas shall mourn forme.
The above is correct copy from the original
in which Mr.. Wilde, alludes to the Valley Of
Tempe, and not the bay Of Tampa. In doing
this, he made a very proper allusion, as we
shall proceed to show. Hobhouse in his Let
ters from Greece, vol. !, page 2s4, has the fol-
lowing remarks;