The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1840-12-12
ExCERPTA FROM HAZLITT.

EScHANTMENT OF VoIcE.-I have ere now,
heard voice so break upon the silence, TO an
gels 4 was most like and charm the moonlight
air with its balmy essence, that the budding
leaves tremble TO its accents. Would | might
hear il once more whisper peace and hope (as
erst when il was mingled with the breath OF
spring., and with its soft pulsations lift winged
fancy TO Heaven! But il has ceased, or turned
where no more shall hear il.
LOVE AT FIRST SIoHr.-I do not think that
what is called 'iore at first sight is so great
an absurdity as il is sometimes imagined 10 be.
We generally make up our minds beforehand,
as 10 the sort Of person we should like, grave or
gay, black, brown, or fair with golden tresses,
or with raven locks and when we meet with a
complete example of the qualities we admire,
the bargain is soon struck. We have never seen
any thing to come up TO our newly discovered
goddess before, but she is what we have been
all our lives looking for. The idol we fall down
and worship, is an image familiar TO our minus.
IL has been present TO our waking thoughts-i'
has haunted us in our dreams, like some fairy
visions. Oh! thou, who, the first time ] ever
beheld thee ddst draw my soul into the circle
Of thy heavenly looks, and wave enchantment
round me, do not think my conquest less complete
because it was instantaneous: Tor, IN that genue
form, las if another Imogene had entered) |
saw all that had ever loved OF female grace,
modesty and sweetness!
PLAcIpNEss OF FADED INFANoY-I have never
seen death but once, and that was IN an infant
II was wears ago. The look was calm and
placid, and the face was fair and firm. IL was
as il a waxen image had been laid out IN the
coffin, and strewed with innocent flowers. IL
was not like death, but more like an image OF
life! No breath moved the lips, no pulse stirred,
no sight or sound would enter those eyes or ears
more. While looked at it, saw no pain was
there; il seemed to smile at the short pang OF
life which was over but ! could not bear the
cofin-lid to be closed-it seemed TO stitie me (;
and still as the nettles wave in a corner OF the
church-yard over its little grave, the welcome
grave helps 10 refresh me, and ease the hghtness
of my breast.
DISAPPOINTED LovE.-l have wasted my life
in one long sigh nor ever (nll too late) beheld
gentle face turned gently upon mine But no T!
not too .late, if that face, pure, modest, down
cast tender with angel sweetness, not only
gladdens the prospect Of the future, but sheds
its radiance on the past smiling in tears. A
purple light hovers round my head. The air OF
love is in the room. As look at my long-neg-
lected copy Of the Death of Clorinda, golden
CLEANS play upon the canvass, as they used
when painted il. >. ! am as when my life be-
gan, the rainbow is in the sky again. The years
that are fed knock at the door and enter. All
that have thought and felt has not been in vain;
am not utterly worhess-unregarded; nor
shall | die and wither of pure scorn. Now |
could sit on the tomb Of Liberty, and write a
hymn to Love. Or if | am deceived, let me be
deceived still. Let me live in the Elysium Of
those soft looks; poison me with kisses, kill me
with smiles: but still mock we with thy love!