The native American., 1840-05-30
THE NATIVE AMERICAN
For The Ndtire dmericaa.
M 4 Y.

each flower has wept and bowed towards the east,
Above an hour since, yet you are not drest-
| Nay, not so much as out OF bed;
When all the birds have mattcyns seyd,
1 And sung their thankful hymnes lis sin
! Nay, PROCLAMATION TO keep in.'-Herr7ch.
again resume the thread OF the narrative
which was so abruptly broken off, in my first
number. Seeing vet unseen, enjoyed all
the pleasure incident to snch an envlable po-
sition-I saw the Queen of May i'll the shape
Iof lovely miss, of fourteen, elevated TO her
rural dignity. A rustic throne Sarandcf with
flowers, had been framed, and the cabinet OF
Spring had been rAed of her choicest pearls
to adorn it in a fitting manner-a crown OF
bluShlng roses was Wreathed around ner
brow by fingers as fair rs those that gathered
flowers in the garden of Enna-then as she
became seated was heard the shout OF raptur-
Gus applause more welcome than the thunder
toned voice of whole park OF artillery, and
but seldom had it ever greeted the ears of
more noble or beautiful form-our pen must
n t linger to describe the almost indescribable
perfection of nature III one OF her most attrac-
tive forms, the last fashionable novel contains
an exact description and inventory OF the COM
ponent parts that form such aWorld OF beauty,
and he who is interested may also find many
originals not far distant, either OF whom might
have sat for the picture thus drawn. Bend
ing before her throne, her companions ten
dered their homage, and acknowledged them
selves true and loyal subjects, with hearts rea-
DIV to form bulWark of purity around her
empire, keeping remote all thoughts but such
as are meet companions for angels-then
came youth from the throng, with the fire,
l.o - IN n
llscript in his hand which he called an adj
dress the Queen Of May, and thus with ex-
tended arm, and penny-trumpet voice" did
q he saw the ar:
Fair Maid our homage thus we pay,
And hail thee Queen Of flowery May,
Thy brow poaderous jewels bear,
Yet beauty sits enthroned there.
Though in thy hand sceptre rests,
Yet he who claims, shall own him blessed.
What though no herald shall proclaim,
Thee last Of high and royal name
Thine eye, of every thought, the tongue,
Where e'er lis wilderng glance is flung,
All PASSIONS language speaks how well
No lip nor tongue can ever tell.
Behold her host,-now proud Disdain,
scows darkIy past with baIefu train
Sorrow with downcast eye steals by,
And Pity heaves the oufelt sigh,
Hope pointing to some distant shore,
Nor sees the waves that round il roar.
Love gazing on the pictured face,
Where blend this lineamens of grace,
All in their turn can,tread ( his stage,
Now bright with hope, now dark with rage
I he fairy form, the godlike mein,
Proclaim that thou art natures Queen.
The Queen of beauty! whose domain,
Extends from peak to lonely plain, =,
On every land, beneath each zone,
mill on hearts her power own.
Where not this dream Of fancy vain,
The Golden age might roll again,
Time decked as Youth should glide along,
With noiseess tread and voice Of song,
All earth would be banquet hall,
And life joyous festival,
Oh! bora beneath thy fairy sway,
Existence We're Summers day.
But shall not proceed farther with de-
,cription of this Summer fete, for interesting
rs it may appear with the charms of nature
d adorn it, yet the pen Of genius can alone
give to it an interest that will relieve the friv
olous details which make the narrative dull
and wearisomc.
In the merry days Of old England, the first
of .1May was looked forward to- not only by
the young, but all expected its approach and
prepared to greet it as a day OF unburthen-
some frivolity-a sort of English Carnival.
Then did the philosopher forget his gravity,
and every one else their cares, and laying
aside the uneasy and tight-fttlng mantle of
dignity, which all of us are constrained occa-
sionalIy to wear. and around the May pole
hung with flowers, did they dance until their
hearts grew as light as their footsteps, and
every tinge OF reserve and timidity disappear
ed as they progressed in the giddy gyrations.
1t was day when Folly ruled the ascendent
to Menus, but now through the
May green the putting locomotive speeds Its
course, and in exchange for the boisterous
shouts ofrustic merriment, we hear the clank-
ing of engines aud the roar of steanl-boilers
Perhaps amid some isolated region where
time still joys on the same un-Macadimized
road that he did some centuries ago, some
remnant may exist of this venerable CUSTOM
happy as Arcadia is such a country-when
shall such Saturnian years again revolve in
our own land? But not to merit the appela-
ton Laudator tenporis acti," | leave this