Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1843-02-03

the dtucI vi thC OIphdll, VIII you uSk Illi1
to bless me, who have no father or mother
and none on this broad earth to care for him
but you, dearest
As he ceased speaking, the fair girl raised
her head from his shoulder, and looking up
through her tears exclaimed in low sweet
voice, Henry, not day will pass in which |
shall not visit this dear retreat; and here,
where no eye but that of Him who is on
high, can behold me, here will l pray the
great Father of spirits to watch over and
bless you, and to bring you safe again to
your friends How can |, dear Henry, en-
dure your absence! Have we not been hap
py together for many yearsl All, how shall
miss you in my daily rambles? Why can
you not remain, dear, dear Henry?
Your father said Henry, in subdued
tone, your father, dear Clara, is ambitious.
He could i'll brook to see thee, his idol, be-
come the bride of poor portionless orphan,
whom his own generosity has raised from a
state of restitution ndpenury to one of COM
parative opulence. No ! his proud heart
would spurn me from him and go, ere yet
his curse shall follow me. Never, till ! can
come and lay fortune, equal to his own, at
his feet, and which even he will not disdain
can venture to ask the boon which my
heart so much Graves, and without which
shall be oh too miserable. | am going in.
TO the cold world, alone and friendless, and
if toll and exertion can gain wealth, il will
be mine. Clara, before we part, j. may be
eternally, would hear from your lips again
that | am oved-that no other shall usurp
my place in your affections. At the end Of
six years, if return not with riches and a
name which your father will not refuse to
own, then believe me dead, and ifyou de-
sire, become the bride of another In SIX
years, if ever, return and claim my BRIDE
my own dear Clara. Speak dearest-do you
promise
Henry and the meek eyes ofClara May.
wood beamed something of pride and con.
cious integrity as she spoke, Henry, hear
me promise by all that is sacred, by all
love on earth or in Heaven, never TO bestow
my hand on other than yourself. will soon
er die than be welded to another. You will
return Henry, and we shall yet be happy
God grant it, sighed the full heart ofthe
youth, 'and God bless and preserve you, my
own Clara And fervently pressing his lips
to the fair brow of the bending girl, and
tearing himself from her embrace, he glided
from her presence.
We will now pass over period of five
years, and introduce again to our readers
the lovely Clara haywood twas delight
fiji evening in May, and all nature was clad
in her beautiful mantle of green. The day
had been pleasant and the soft twilight hour
was mild and balmy.
In neat aud elegant chamber, gazing
thoughtfnlly out upon the broad lawn in front
of her fathers dwelling, sat fair and ex-
tremely beautiful maiden of twenty. There
were the same sweet eyes, the same smooth,
calm brow, and the waving tresses upon
which we gazed with delight many years
ago. She was dressed in plain robe oil
white, and no ornament bedecked her per-
son, unless you would call by that name a
simple half blown rose, whose snowy white
ness strongly contrasted with the dark, silk
en- locks among which it rested. The head
of the maiden reposed upon her small white
hand, and she seemed absorbed in medita-
ton.
Atast she sighed mournfulIy. Nearly
six years have sped away since we parted,
and he returns not. Perhaps-but oh the
thought is agony--he cannot be dead
And yet, he may have forgotten his VOWS TO
Clara, and long since have pledged his love
to some farer and more beautiful one. Hen
ry, forget his first love forget her whom
from childhood he has cherished never -
Rather would behold him the cold tenant
of the grave-rather he had laid his manly
form low beneath the cold clods, and closed
his eyes forever in a strange land than that
he should thus basely have acted. But no
he is too noble too good Henry Bently
will never forget the faith, he swore on that
night of our last parting, and Heaven grant
me patience to bear unmurmuringly what
ever of i'll is in store for me-
The name of Henry had never been mem
toned by Clara since his departure, and the
proud father thought that in sending the lone
orphan from his doors, he had also banished
his remembrance from the heart of his daugh-
ter. The friends of the family at first won
dered at the sudden disappearance Of one
whom they had ever supposed general fa-
vorte; but at length they ceased to wonder,
and the name as also the person of Henry
Bently was forgotten, or remembered only
as a dream that is passed. Remembered
but by one. To the faithful, warm heart OF
Clara he was still dear and absence and
time only served to strengthen the cord that
bound her heart to his. She had moved, a
bright and particular star in the circles of
fashion-had been admired, caressed and
fiattered. She was modest, frank and cheer
ful, and apparently perfectly happy Her
0lad aweet smile and beaminO face had
brought light and sunshine into many a
cherries heart and her generous hand had
showered blessings into many dreary home.
The old and young, rich and poor, were con-
stantly calling down blessings on the young