Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1844-12-27
fuse, perhaps the last request of your unhap-


grew pale, and tears trembed upon her long
dark lashcs. AT last she sunk, overcome
with emotion, upon the nearest chair, and
covering her face with both hands, wept con-
vulsively.
'Ani has it come to thIs7' she sighed
20, Henry! must we part-part forever +!
o, my father 7! cannot your proud heart be
soitencd Will you sacrifice the eternal
peace of your only chldl Yes, Henry-I
will see thee and ifthe knowledge that you
are loved-loved far more than aught else
on earth, can give you comfort, it shall be
yours
Clara arose composed, and Joining her
father, was ready TO meet her numerous
her cheek was paler than usual, and her soft
eyes would occasionally fill with tears.
The heart of the fond father swelIed with
pride and JOY, as he gaz'd with triumph on
the beautiful girl, and smile of satisfaction
soficned the usually harsh expression of his
noble features, as he Witnessed the admira-
ton which her presence excited. Clara ex-
cited herself to appear gay, and her silverv
laugh rung out, and she sang and played and
talked, AS if all was peace and quiet within.
AT late hour the company dispersed, and
Clara, after kissing her father and bid :
ding him good night, she retired to her
chamber. 1t was near midnight and in IA
beautiful groto at the end of the garden sat
youth, apparently Of !about twenty sum-
mrrS, who by his anxious countenance and
impatient glances toward the mansion, was
evidently awaiting the approach of some one
from thence. He was noble looking, will, a
high white brow, shaded by thick chestnut
cnrlS, and an eye dark, full, and pathetic
Ills lips were compressed, and ever and anon
he raised his hand to his burning temples, as
| if TO still their rlrohhing.
At length he started, and eagerly elarcing
forward saw the white drapery of fairy
| form, winch in another moment was folded
to his heart. The beautiful girl cung con-
vnlsively to his neck, and wept till her heart
seemed near breaking. The youth was too
much affected to speak, and could only press
his lips to her forehead and mingle his tears
with hers.
'CIara,' he said at last, this must not
be. y, cease those tears have much to
say. You are kind dearest, very kind, thus
to venture forth to meet once more and bid
adinn TO one who loves you---ah, more than
his own life. Yes, Clara, we must part
Tomorrow morn | lid farewell to all that
is dear to me on earlh--and 90 forth, alone
and friendless. And will you, Clara, when
! am far away, will You sometimes visit tins
loved grolto, and think of him who has so
often sat here by your side ?-and when YOU
pray to the Father of the orphan, will YOU
ask Him to bless me, who have no father or
moIler-and none on this broad earth to
care for him but you, dearest 2
As he ceased speaking, the fair girl raised
her head from his shoulder, and looking up
through her tears, exclaimed in low swee,
voice, Henry, not a 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 pray the great
Father OF spirits to watch over aud bless
YOU, and 10 bring you safe again to vour
friends. How can !, dear Henry, endure
your absence! Have we not been happ,
together for many gears All, how shall /
miss you in my daily rambles! Why can
yon not remain, dear, dear Henry 2
Your faher,' said Henry, in subdued
tone, your father, dear Clara, is ambitious.
lie could i'll brook to see thee, his idol, be-
come the bride of poor, porlionlcss orphan,
whom his own generosity has raised from IA
state OF desiiulion and penury TO one of COM
paralive opnence. No his proud heart
would spnrn me from him and 90, ere
ye, his curse shall follow me. Never, ill
can come and lay a fortune, equal to his own
at his ieet and which even he will not dis
dam, can | venture to ask the boon which
my heart so much Graves, and without which
| shall be, OH too miserable. | am poiny
into the cold world, alone and friendless
and II toll and oxertion can gaia wealth, it
will be mine. Clara, before we part it may
be cternaly, would hear from your Iips
again that | am loved-that no other Shall
usurp my place in your affections. At the
end OF SIX years, if | return moi with riches
and IA name which your father vii! not refuse
to own, then believe me dead, aud if Won
desire, become the bride of another. In six
years, If ever, ! return and claim my bride
my own dear Clara. Speak dearest-do
you promise 2
Henry and the meek eyes of Clara
Haywood beamrd something of pride and
conscious integrity as he spoke, Henry,
hear me promise by all that is sacred, by all
love on earth or in heaven, never to bestow
my hand on no other than Yourself. | will
sooner die than be welded to another. You
will return, Henry, and we shall! yet be hap.
py.'
God grant it, sighed the full heart of the
youth, and God bless and preserve you, my
own Clara And ferven,ly pressing his lips
to fair brow Of the bending Girl, and tearing
himself from her embrace, he glded from
her presence.
We will now pass over "A period of five
years, and introduce again to our readers the
lovely Clara Haywood 1t was "A delightful
evening IN May, aud all nature was clad in
her beautiful mantle Of green. The dav had
been pleasant, and the soft twilight hour was
mild and balmy.
In neat and elegant chamber, gazino
thonghiully out upon the broad lawn IN
front of her fathers dwelling, sat fair and
extremely beautiful maiden of twentv.-