Daily Richmond Whig. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1828-1831, 1829-09-04

tbem hs Catholic .Niieelisay.

prom me Catholic .Nifcei!sAy.
cUt:YHA.
iSrtAS s0NG.
Itne pleasant re Of the island at a end the cham
- shade by day the sumer during the sutry tide es
shc to,san ae stream, u,des the spreading palntrv
nd tho song. u,c dance, AID game tile mellow evens
hon srn,ooci their sample ascnents by rude India
rum. They cbi,,- sropc day y day. with bend
body and anxious eve, along borders OF their rvcts sif
IS s . s fs% e fsS a "
m % raise food for task produce the ,r
70 irossd ,sn hsn They sunk to sleep vssry aud q
repetition u ioil aud suffering On II they ocoas,o
y icdssed in their n,onsl dances me ballads which c
i1y's LsT Of Cothabts, vol ii, p. 279l
Inncltins glory o'cr the parting wave
bright as warrior reelhg to his grave
The Sun.God snisht his rosy couch 10 rise
WIN heshcned radiance 70 his votries ewes
Twas evening" DER the earth aud i'm the ekv
Inc golden clouds hung rich fesioons ON biiai
The stream that sus'icd Ian iuins ,ntisic on
Singing ITS dir.c unto the dying sun;
Tue garden flowers thar grew in beau,y's bloorl,
And the far shadows of the twilight hour
L,nSerins most softly DER each forest bower
Oh! tits the time, when fond girls love Ia lc
fiathercd beneath their banana tree
Woen those s'ree; sIfis o! the green indian land,
Arc flung a6out by Natures willing hand;--
IN, baiay skies, where birds of gauly wins
Spread their proud prions To the smiles of spring,
ani me deep giades--the hils-and pahny groves,
And lealy isles-'n az that poet loves!
And Guevra sat beside her lonelv hearth
Where she had tiourished from her hour Of bn,lr
Where the brave kindred OF her race had been,
WIN thelr Oflght bfOws TO gladden. the dear
Her dark eye rolled, with h,s.in. brilancc hriya,
which sho-had caught from her CLINE OF lisli;
And rays, she borrowed where the sun is born,
Mantled her lip with laugh of burning scor.I.
Her hair, ~ fall and blackness s,raycd
Loosely, wIiere'er the waulon bTcezes led
And DER her mouth n smile uf sadness siloic
To gid the dropping wreck of beauty gone
Berca,h the Indian tree she long ha been
10 grace the dance upon the merry green;
And the wild Indian drum, evening hnir
Had often called her from wreathei bow en-
And III the mellow shade, by her still! nome,
AZ the bland hour, when lovers on, 10 roam
10 gaze upon the stars, aud in The n,-l
10 dwell upon their dreams of rap; delight
low often would she list the playful .air
~ And burtheu il with romantic tale.
And she would vile the live long CAV eu5y
I.esfguing thought to tancy's bliSsfih sway,
Mar aught OF care could the CAV morrow hrur
TO darken to dali her soui's ina lining.
The woods vocal with the notes az SOAP.
That she would MARBLE from her spins tongue
Where the loo5 houghs OF palm tree differing,
Were stirred IN beauty meath the quick bird wing
Snnhners have beeu and past, aud the blue main,
40 wind and sun has spread It's gam, rnaAe.
And many white wing sail has taen lis srt
iD'et the wide waters depth Of gloomy night
Whereof the pillows vi the '.occan sea
There man hath made, III death AMI sonn a war.
While the new wonders OF the southern wayr
lfave lured many 10 a stranger gave.
li,it where is Guevra and her happy hearth
t.ef voice OF song, and careless hours OF ninth.
II IS the midnight music Of the slave
That comes nj the trembling wave,
Not the bliihe tone OF happiness aui uve
That eist had warOled from that geamn. grove.
While the cold breailings of despair are bcaeo,
Wherever the native lp, song, is stirred,
And standing by trlt shore Of PROMISE ,nls
heard a voice sing.-soft and trsrnulnus:
"Aly pleasant home, my pleasant, home
Where wild flowers glow aud hunters iuani,
Where are you, you gone,
My hearth Of peace and bowers OF joy,
How have those lost hours wandered by
When you were pleasures tiiTone
"And where the white meets the shore,
And breakers in their frenzy r,rar
fam must take my way;
FcJ the cool fount aud sunny hill
And music from the passing rhl,-
Oh, where, oh, where they,
1.-THE white mans foo, ,.as been, tl,ev saw
Where our old homes stand by the bag,
l cannot choose but sgl
While we must weep our hearts teaih,
And niavcllIng theI little faith
But lay Us down-and die.
'Aly pleasant home. where wild flowers grow
al! me, and must leave thee so,
10 my sad night Of heart?
And all the sportive hours I've known
by the rude turf and ruder stone
Must they, too, thus depaIi2"