Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1828-03-26

hcaTt TcColl upon itseiI, ana the sun,
but not small, voice of memory sound
solemnly in my ears. AT sea, in the
deep moonlight, in the hushed watches
of the night, when the rippling and
gurgling Of the gentle waves seem TO
. add to, rather than TO break the still
ness Of the scene when the tall
masts, relieved against the blue sky,
increase, under that doubtful light, in
apparent vas,ness, till the shadows OF
their sails almost strike with awe upon
the sense at such times as these, the
past rises upon my mind,
''Tlc thoughts of other DAYS are rushing on mo-
The loyd The lta the dstlnt aud the dead,
Are with iIe then"
And my soul communes with them,
but in sadness and in pain.
Again: in lighted halls, where mu.
sic pea's and perfumes load the air !;
where beauty congregatcs in her Joy
and pride, and bright eyes flash, and
white bosoms heayc, and jewels glance
through the trcsscs Of braided hair,
and lair'iorms move in grace through
The dance, and young hearts quiycr a t
the words which loved lips breathe
softly into the ear, have stood in
secluded nook, and gazcd upon the
scene before me, till my heart has
swellcd almost to choking, as have
thought upon days when ! mingled in
in such groups with one whose sur
passing lovclincss would have cngross-
ed the whole soul, were it not that
The gifts Of her mind threw even
that into the shade, while Mey again
we're forgotten in the noblcncss, the
ardor, the generosity, and above all,
the tenderness of her unequalled
heart. Memory, for moment, has
been almost able to make lost things
real. ! have felt her cling to my
arms, and grow unto my side, as of
yore; and her dear voice has sunk
like balm upon my ear, and Iapt my
split in Elysium. 1t is in this! Oh!
it is in this, that the force of magma
ton is indeed great ;-the tones ofthe
voice of one we have loved, and who
has loved Us, live deep in the womb of
the heart, and can be drawn forth at
viii. Even her personal aspect is
less subject to this power. Many, in
deed, do not possess the faculty US
ually designated the minds eye -
and in my own instance, although
generally strong and vivid, it fails me
with regard to those whom have
loved the most, and with every line,
shade, and variation Of whose coun-
tenance have been the most intense
ly familiar.
The very strength Of desire to call
up their image, interposcs, as it we're,
a mist, if not of obscurity, at least of
indistinctncss, between me and these
dear lineaments and | strain my
mental vision till the very mind aches
but in vain ! But the voice Of one
who has been dear to us-which has
given to us the deepest joy which the
human heart can ever taste, the
knowledge that we are beloved-this
at least our memory can give to US
again; the material sense feast upon
the unreal creations Of the soul! Yes!
| can hear it now-the soft breathings
OF that sound which was dearer to me
than all this earth has given! which
alike lulled my wild passions to rest,
and excited them beyond my mastery,
and repaid me tenfold for all they
caused me to suffer! Yes! | have at
times, almost deceived myself; as in
the dreams Of sleep, my outward SEN
ses have been locked, and my fancy
has supplied their place.
There is one song, one swell of
music, with its corresponding line Of
verse, which cheats mine ear evcn
now and, ,clothing itself in that voice,
which first heard give it breath, re-
calls into present and vivid existence,
that which, excepting thus, | shall
never hear more! But then, the wax
ing from such drcams-the passing
away of that enthralling delusion-
the temperance of the drcary pres
cnt Alas he then knows what it is
to feel despair L!
Despair! Yes Is not grief without
hope-is not regret for that which
never can be restored-is not sorrow
for what is irrevocable-are not these
despair -" You shall listen to that
voice, you shall behold that form, no
more'" Is not this mandate in itself