Southern Argus. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 1834-1842, 1839-12-24

deVlces IS now hallowed symbol, subdu-
ing by its presence the turbulent passions
of the heart, and lifting the soul above the
gloom of this cloud encircled world into
the serene light Of the stars"
at is doubtless as you say; tomorrow
| will come here at noon, that may con
trast Tho effects of different lights upon a
scene SO picturesque and beautiful" repli.
ed Mary Livingston, and turned to depart,
in such manner as to signify to Warn
lander that his attendance would not be
unwelcome. Warnlander gathered up
his drawings and accompanied her to the
door of her inn, and taking his respectful
leave promised, at her request, to send his
drawings on the following day for her to
examine
The morning of a new existence had
dawned upon Warnlander his past life
seemed an idle and half forgotten tale, and
he felt the moment of the meeting at the
haunted fountain to be the point of time
from which to date his new being. Rest.
less and tortured with conflicting hopes
and misgivings he retired to his chamber
bat IN vain esSayed to sleep in the drape.
ry of his couch he saw the delicately mouI.
ded form of Mary Livingston; he looked
from his window, and in the blended beau.
ty.of the sky and stars beheld her eyes !;
he listened to the night-wind and in its
low breathings recognized the gentle tones
other voice.
The following morning Mary related
to her father, and brother Herbert, her ad.
venture, and the interest the young
sculptor had awakened in her her father
listened with pleasure 10 the unaffected
narr alive, but Herbert, petulantly express
sed his displeasure at what he was pleased
to term his sisters imprudence. While
they were conversing upon the subject,
a servant brought into the drawing room
the address of Warnlander. "Bid him
come in" said the old gentleman, and
Warnlander entered with port folio Of
drawings. Herbert sneeringly looked
at him and left the apartment. The in.
suit momentarily placed Warnlander un.
der painful restraint, from which however
he was soon relieved by the marked civil.
tiles of both father and daughter. The
conversation was unrestrained, turning
chiefly upon the mastery works of ancient
art, a subject introduced by the drawings
which WarnIander had brought with
him.
| ave shall set out o-morrow," said Mr.
Livingston, on our pilgrimage; our desti.
nation is Rome, where we propose spend
ing the winter, and i; were fortunate fol
me if ! could meet you there and avail
myself of your taste and assistance in ma
king a small collection of statuary, which
| am anxious to take to the new world, a,
relics ofthe glory of the old.
Warnlander's heart sank within hin
when he heard the time of the intended
departure was so near; Mary observed
his emotion and could not misunderstood
its cause feelings of sympathy, akin t.
love, prompted her to say that her hear
responded to her fathers wishes that they
might meet again at Rome; eat least, con
tinued she, fearing she had expressed her
self too warmly, cit would be gratifying
to have you write to my father there
and give him such aid as could be convey
ed by a letter. !"
| Her words were soothing to the feeling
of Warnlander, who felt if he could con
tinualy enjoy the presence of the fair be
ing before him his love would be exalte
into alteration. Warnlander departe
from the inn ;Ihe saw not Mary Livingsto
again till the next morning, as she was en-
tering her fathers carriage on the poin
9 of talxinga final leave of Urloff; as sh
, babe adieu she carelessly dropped flowe
from her hand, which Warnlander caught
Who could estimate the value of that Ii
tie flower to him In few moments til
: carriage receded from sight. The accu'
l toned pursuits and pleasures of life be
came repulsive to Warnlander, who SUI
], fered that mental enervation which a
? ways SUCCEEDS extravagant mental e,
element.
! When time had somewhat softened h
!, regrets, he again pursued his studies ar
. endeavored TO forget the adventure at ii
: fountain, or only to remember it as a pie
sing incident in the drama of life.
month had passed away since the partin
:. when, one evening, sitting in his solita
:, chamber, his memory recalled the form
Mary Livingston, her tones, her wore
J. and above all her look at parting t
= fountain of his love was unsealed, al
- tears were the silent expression Of 4
/! emotion that thrilled his heart.
= To the heart-afiictcd it is consolati
y TO weep in silence-to conceal the sorrC
:. thatcannot be assuaged and it was not
- excite sympathy in the breast of Ma
- Livingston that Warnlander wrote
following letter:
,1 stIn addressing one whom | can neN
- hope to see, from whom | Con never no
=, to hear, there can at least be no insince
5. ty. The bitter pangs of disappoln
- wishes torture me with their stings, q
~ despair mocks me with melancholy sig
- like the lamenting voice of the night w
i breathing through withered sedge:
"A when recall the past, my hearts ms
an ere is changed to
- "a more precipitated vein
IN Of notes that eddy in the flow
ed OF smoothest song, they'come, they &c
Jut And leave their sweeter understand,
ed, Its own sweet self--a love of thee
That seems, yet cannot greater be-.
h" Before knew you, had supposed I
r / love, such as is traced by the glowing P
nut ciIof genius, existed only IN the feH
,;.b imaOinafion of the poet experience