The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1839-08-24
MISCELLANEOUS.
From The Boston Eoening Gasetis.
THE NATIVES LOVE.
4 TALE--BY oRIE

Alas the night is coming on, and am
here with scarce the power to move. Yon
cloud threatens with thunder storm. Alrea.
dy the lightnings fash, and the thunder echoes
over the hills. Oh! Helen, where dost thou
deem me nowi Couldst thou but see how
and where | am-But will make one eff.
fort more before ] give up 10 despair, and
heaven may crown il with success
Thus spoke Albert Eyerard, as he lay upon
the rocky bank Of small stream, whittier he
had fallen from high oyerhanging precipice
The land was the wild America; the time,
ere she was free, when but few whites were
hanging on the retreating natives steps. The
summer winds were driving through the dark
foliage Of the far-stretched forests--plaintiye
brooks, and hanging in their beloved hooks in
the steep rocks.
Albert was the son of wealthy settler on
the banks Of the Susquehannah, who had left
his native land with tried and valued friend,
to seek free and wild home better suited to
their inclinations. Albert was the only child
Of Mr.. Eyerard, and Mr.. Wentharn chat
gentleman's friend, had two daughters, who
he preferred should feel the influence Of Ma
iure, rather than that of the gay salons in
London. The breath of freedom does not
destroy grace, and it enlarges the mind it
dins not external beauty, and it brightens the
gem within--thns making the beautiful, di-
vine. Communing with the wild flowers will
not narrow the heart. but viii give it the warm
gush Of poetry. Listening to the " feathered
songsters carroll" will not mar the taste for
melody, and will fill the soul with love. And
what are all the false accomplishments Of ia
shionablc life compared with spiritual beauty
the free, wild grace Of nature-the heart Of
poetry, the soul Of love In the mind Of
Dumont, they weigh not and he desired to
give his daughters the warm spirit, the true
feelings Of nature, unbound by any vanities Of
fashion.
And such they were. Helen, the elder,
was beautiful-just breathing the air Of her
eighteenth summer, at the time of our tale,
while the younger, Constance, was the angel
girl of fifteen. The golden hair Of Helen,
parted on brow where fancy had set her seat,
hung in tiny ringlets over her beautiful face,
or was gathered as the Grccian girls most
love to braid their hair Her eye was the
large love beaming orb which borrows its tint
from heaven, and her lips were ever parted
with smile, which sometimes spoke Of me-
lancholy. The changing beauty Of Con-
stance could not be told. II was the summer
fower-the ray Of sunshine-the CLEAN Of
twilight, or the moons magic smile Her feel
ings burst forth in the silvery rivulet laugh,
or in the wild, bird-like song, and anon
breathing sighs like those Of the evening
wind.
Albert's soul was like his neighbours, though
the wild hunt often claimed the attention Of
his bounding spirit. His heart was Helen's.
The trees and wild flowers had heard their
vows, the brook danced gaily on in Joy at the
sounds, and the full heart Of Constance joined
in its mirth.
Albert had been led in his chase, on that
day when our tale opens, to high precipice,
a part OF which crumbled beneath him, and he
fell into deep ravne, where he lay for long
time deprived Of sense. When he revived, he
endeavored to arise aud seek his way home,
but he was unable to support himself After
lying for long time, he gave utterance to the
thoughts which filled his bosom, in the words
with which he was introduced, and again en-
deavoring to rise he succeeded. He had
walked but few steps, however, when he
was obliged to stop-and he sank down in
despair.
'IIelen oh, Heenp cried he; but a
sweet voice interrupted him, speaking in his
own language, but with a strange and wild
accent.
is the Paleface sick3' it asked in silver
tones. or why does he mournP
A beam Of hope frightened the face Of AL
bert as the words fell on his ear, for that voice
was sweet. although it might be an enemy's.
The Indian girl is kind he replied; will
she come near 2
The bushes stirred, and form Of most
beautiful proportions stepped lightly before
him. Albert gazed with astonishment when
she appeared, for he had not thought that there
could be so much beauty in an Indian. Hei
face was but little darker than the white
and around It waved her jetty hair in lighter
tresses than is common to the forest girls