Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1833-08-22
ALEXANDRIA GAZETTE.

| From Blackwood's Magazine for July.l
BURIAL OF AN EMIGRANTS CHILD
IN THE FORESTS.
BY MRS. HEMANs.
ScENE.-The banks Of a solitary riuer in an
| american Forest. fl tent under pine trees in
! the foreground. AGNES sitting before the tenl
with child in her arms. apparently sleeping.
.fgnes Surely 'ts all a dream-a fever
{ dream!
The desolauon and the agony
The strange red sunrise-and the gloomy woods,
So terrible with their dark giant boughs,
And the broad lonely river! all dream
And nv boys voice will wake me, with its clear,
Wild, singing tones, as they were wont to come
Through the wreath'd sweet.brier, at thy lattice
panes,
In happy. happy England! Speak to me!
Speak to thy mother, bright one! she hath
watch'd
All the dread night beside thee. till her BRAIN
Is darken'd by swift waves Of fantasies,
And her soul faint with longing for thy voice.
Oh! must wake him with one gentle kiss
On his tair brow!
(Shudde,i@,sly) The strange damp thrilling
The marble chill! Now, now it rushes back
Now know all !-dead-dead!-a fearful word |.
My boy hath left me IN the wilderness,
To journey on without the blessed light
In his deep loving eyes-he's gone-he's gone!
Her husband enters.
Husband, Agnes, my Agnes! hast thou oOk'd
thy last
On our sweet slumberer's face? The hour is
The couch made ready for his last repose.
.4gnes. Not yet! thou can'st not take him
from me yet!
If he but left me for few short days,
This were too brief gazing time to draw
His angel. image into nay fond heart,
And fix its beauty there. And now-oh! noU,
Never again the laughter Of his eye
Shall send its gladdening summer through my
soul
Never on earth again. Yet, yet delay!
Thou canst not take him from me.
Husband. My BELOVED!
Is it not God hath taken him? the God
That took our first born, Ger whose early grave
Thou didst bow down thy saint-like head, and
say,
% His will be done!!"
.agnes On! that near household grave,
Upon the turf of England seem'd not half,
Not half 50 much to part me from ms child,
And could watch the sunshine, through all
hours,
Loving and cIinging to the grassy spot,
And could dress its greensward with fresh flow.
ers,
Familiar, meadow, flowers. Ger thee, my babe,
The primrose will not blossom! Oh! that now,
Together, BY thy fair young sisters side,
We lay, midst England's valleys!
Husband. Dost thou grieve,
Agnes! that thou hast FOLLOWED Ger the deep
An exile's fortunes? re it thus can be,
Then, after many conflict cheeriiy met,
My spirit sinks at last.
Agnes. Forgive, forgive!
My Edmund pardon me! Oh! grief Is wild
Forget its words, quick spray. drops from fount
Of unknown bitterness! Thou art my home!
Mine only and my blessed one! " here'er
Thy warm heart beats il is true nobleness,
There is my country! there my head shall rest,
And throb no more. Oh! still by thy strong love
Bear up the feeble reed!
Kneeiing dozen ,oith the child in her arms.
And thou art my God !
Hear my SOULS cry from this dread wilderness,
Oh! hear, and pardon me- Il have made
This treasure, sent from thee, too much the ark
Fraught with mine earth ward clinging happiness,
Forgetting Him who gave, and might resume,
Oh. pardon me!
II nature hath rebelled:
And from thy light turn'd wiIfully away,
When the despairng passion ofher clasp
Was from its idol stricken at one touch
Of thine Almighty hand-Oh, pardon me!
By thy sons anguish pardon! In the soul
The ,empests and the waves will know thy
voice
Father, say, {. Peace, be stl!''
Citing the child to her husband.
Farewell, my babe!
Go from my bosom now to other rest!
With this last kiss on thine unsuIlied brow,
And On thy pale calm cheek these cOntrhe tears.
yield thee to thy Maker!
Husband. Now, nv wife +!
Thine own meek holiness beams forth once more
A light upon my path. Now shall bear.
From thy deaE arms, the siumberer. to repose-
With calm, trustfal heart.
.3gnes. My Edmund, where