The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1843-06-10
II | 5 e E L L A n E @ U S.
THE F0RSAkEN GIRL.

They paEtcd-as all lovers part
She with her wronged ana broken heart
But he, rejoicing he is free,
Bounds like the captive from his chain,
And wifully believing she
Hath found her liberty again"
II there is any act which deserves deep
and bi!ler condo mnatlon, it is that of trill-
ing with the uestimable gift Of woman's
affection. The female heart may be COM
pared to delicate harp, over which the
brtathings Of early affection wander, I'M
Ill eaci, tender chord is awakened to
tones Of ineliable sweetness. 1t is the
music of the soul which is thus called
iorth---a music sweeler than the fall Of
the fountains or the song Of Ilour in the
lloslem's paradise. But wo for the de-
licate iast.loning OF lhal harp if change
pass over the love which frs! called forth
its hidden harn.ones. Let neglect and
cold unklndness su eep over It's delicate
strings. and lhsy will b reak one after an
other-slowly perhaps-but surely
Unvisi'ed and unrequlled by the light of
love, the soul-like melody will be hush
ed in the stricken bosom-like the mo-
mus Of the. Egyptian statue, before the
coming Of sunrise.
have been wandering among the
graves. love at sometimes to do so.-
| feel a melancholy not unallied to plea
sure in communing with the resting place
of those who have gone beiore-lo go
forth alone among the thronged tomb
stones, rising from every grassy undula-
ion like the ghoslly senlinels of the de-
parted. And when kneel above the mar.
row mansion of one whom | have known
s. loved in life, feel Grange assurance
that the spirit of the sleeper is near me. a
viewless and ministering angel. II is beau
tiful philosophy, which has found its
way unsought for and mysterious into
the silence Of my heart--and if it be only
drean,-the unreal imaginary OF fancy
i pray God that ! may never awake
from the beautiful delusion.
have been this evening by the grave
of Emily, 1t has plain white tomb
stone, half hidden by flowers, and you
may read its mournlul epilaph in the clear
moonlight which falls upon it like a
smile Of an angel, through an opening in
the dropping branches. Emily was a
beautiful girl-the iairest of our village
maidens, think | see her now, as she
looked when her loved one the idol of
her affections, was near her with his smile
OF conscious triumph and exulting love.
She had been seen but eighteen summers,
and her whole being seemed woven Of
the dream Of her first passion. The OBJ
ject of her love was proud and way
ward being-whose naughty spirit never
relaxed from its habitual slernness, save
when he found himself in the presence of
lhis young and beautiful creature, who
had trusted her all "on the venture OF
her VOW" and who loved him with the
confding earneslness Of pure and devo-
ted heart. Nature had dep ived him of
the advantages Of outward grace and beau
iy; and it was the abiding consciousness
Of this which gave TO his intercourse with
society character of pride and stern
ness. He felt himself in some degree
removed from his fellow men by the par
lial fashion of Nature, and scorned to
seek nearer affinity. His mind was Of
an exalted bearing, and prodigal of beau
~. The flowers Of Poetry were in bis