The native American., 1838-03-24
From The LouisriHe Journal.
THE DYING GIRL.

The flful breeze, that through the sultry day.
Had famed the fainting blossoms with It's breath,
Stole through the open easement where there Law
a pale young girl upon the couch of death;
her glance Was fixed upon the moon that rolled
Through blue and starlight in the yauted sky.
AS It she knew her 1eeting hours were told
And wished 10 take one lingering look and die
Beside that humble couch there droop'd one form
The gentle mother of the dying one,
For griei had bowed her spirit, as the storm
bends the soft rose upon its emerald throne;
There lay her child the beautiful the Young
The breath just signing on her lip of snow,
And her soft rlnglets, all dishevelled flung
Back from the Whiteness Of her deaihly brow
Sadly she bent above her. though her look
Was fearless as she sought her daughters eve
Yet her lip quivered like bright leaf, shook
ny 'he strong tempest, as il sweeps the sky;
Laughter, she murmurcd, and the maiden turned
Unto her mothers face her mournfmI glance,
In which Hies nickering taper wildly burned,
For she was startled as if from trance.
And at that voice so thrilling to her ear
A thousand tender thoughts her heart opprest
III 10 her blue eye tear-drcp followed tear
And the white linen heavcd above her breast
About her mothers neck she softly threw
Her pale thin arms, and Nesting her young head
Within her shelteTing BOSOM dashed The dew
From her soft cheek, and III low accents said
Mother, my hour is come,
The wing of death is 0 er me- for nv bro,y
Is damp and chiIl--sweet mother must 20
Down TO the silent tomb.
Yet not for this grieve,
ii is to think that an leaving thee
Poor and unfriended-mother thou wilt be
Alone at morn and eve.
And through the long. long day,
TEoul't 81, with breaking heart above thy task
Earning thy daily bread, while others bask
In fortunes sunny ray.
For on thy heart will press
A thousand memories Of thy buried child
And thou wilt pour thy wcepnss long and wild
Ard in the time of sleep
ahoult turn to kiss-me as thou oft hast done,
But memory will whisper she is gone
And thou wilt wake and weep.
Before my father died,
We dwell beneath our own bright stately halls
Round which blue streams and silver fountain. falls
Werc seen 10 glide.
There on the evening breeze,
IN IN summer Tune no harsber sound was heard
Than the low tlutter Of some singing bird
Startled among the trees.
And there beside our hearth
hon,sl often knelt, and offered up to God,
MY infant spirit pure snow untrod
And free from taint of earth
But now how changed thy lot,
Strangers are dwelling in once bright home
Whilst thou art pent within this close dark room
Unaided and forgot. 'oo'"'
have been like spell,
Bi,!ndlng thee unto earh--but death hath prest
his cold and heavy hand upon nv breast
Mother, go-farewelI!
Slowly her arms unwound their wrea,hno CLASH.
around her mothers neck, and her fair head
Fell heavy back while Io,,4
Stirred her cold marble bosom-she was dead,'
Hc Siren! tnat mother gazed-the mighty flood
Of grief within her heart she srove 10 hide
For II seemed sin to weep, while thus she stood
Above the holy dead, aud sanctifed.
II was no time to mourn, for she had vet
A bitter mournful duty TO fulfil
!, liz press the eye-lids DER the blue orbs set,
10 close the sweet lips smiling on her still
ohe iald the llnglets round the lifeess face
al ana wrapped the loose shroud round the slender C,
ihat lay N N mute and melancholy grace, '"'
AS II spell bound in slumber soft and warm.
And when the stars ofnight began to wane.
And The warm sun had chased away rIoom
strange iorms were seen around the lattice nan.
That looked into that dim and dreary room f'
And, as they crossed the threshold ofthe door
uhey found her dropping by her daughters bed
ael ~ raven uesses streaming DER the floor,
And her dark CLASSY eye fixed on the dead
~! Oh! twas indeed sadly touching sight,
TOT ner White hand lay prest upon her heart
As TO quel within the spirits might,
AT And her cold purple lips were half apart
1hey raised her from the spot where she had knen
In the meek holy attitude ofprayer ''' Ane"
And with the incest touch her bosom feIt
Seeking Tor life and warmth--but death was tb.rot