Democratic banner., 1848-01-10

Is lone as some volcanic isle,
No torch is kindled--as its blaze
4 funeral pile!
In the morning train from Petersburgh,
there was a lady closely yelled, in the same
car with ourself. She was dressed in the
purest white, wore gold bracelets, and evil
IDENTIFY. belonged 70 the higher circles of so
ciety: Her figure was delicate though
well developed, and exquisitely symetrical;
and when she drew aside her richly embroi-
dered veil, the glimpse of her features,
which the beholder obtained, satisfied him
of her extreme lovelieess. Beside her sat
a gentleman in deep mourning, who watch
ed over her with unusual solicitude: and
several times when she attempted to rise,
he excited the curiosity of the passengers
by OBTAINING her in her seat:
Outside the cars all was confusion; pas
sengers looking to their baggage, porters
running, cabmen cursing, and all the usual
hurry and hustle attending the departure of
a rail road train. One shrill warning whis-
tie from the engine, and we moved slowly
away.
At the first motion of the car, the lady in
white started to her feet with one heart
piercing scream, and her bonnet falling off,
disclosed the most lovely features We ever
contemplated. Her raven tresses fel, over
her shoulders in graceful disorder, and
clasping her hands in prayer, she turned
her dark eyes to Heaven! What agony was
in that look! What beauty, too: what heav-
|enLy beauty, had not so much misery been
stamped upon it. Alas! that one glance
told a melancholy tale.
"---she was changed
As by the sickness OF her soul her mind
Had wandcr'd from its dwelling, and her eyes
They had net their own ~lustre, but the look
Which is not of the earth; she was become
The green OF o fantastic realm: her thoughts
Were combinations Of d~i<joincI things
And forms impalpable and unperceived
or others sight familiar were to hers"
Her brother, the gentleman dressed in
black, was unremitting in his efforts to
isoothe her spirit. He led her back to her
seat; but her hair was still unbound, and
her beauty unveiled. The cars ratified on,
and the passengers in groups assumed their
conversation. Suddenly a wild melody a.
rosr: it was the beautiful maniac's voice,
rlch, fall and inimitable. Her hands were
crossed on her hearing bosun, and she
waved her body as she sung with touching
Pathos
I"s.eis far from the land where her young hero
sleeps,
And lovers around are signing,
But coldly she tnrns from their gaze and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying!
"She sings the wild songs Of her dear native
plains,
Every note which her lover awaking-
All! little they think, who delight in their strains,
How the heart of the minstrel is breaking!'
Her brother was unnamed, and he wept
as only man can weep, The air changed,
and she continued:
"Has sorrow thy young days shaded
AS clouds DER the morning fleet?
Too fast have those young days faded,
That even in sorrow were sweet!
If thus the unkind world wither
Each feeling that once was dear;
Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear"
She then sung a fragment of the beauti-
full hymn:
"Jesus, lover Of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly"
Another attempt to rise up was prevented,
and she threw herself on her keens beside
her brother, and gave him such a .nournful.
e~ntrcating look, with a plaintive "save me.
my brother! save your sister," that scarce
ly a ! passenger could refrain from weeping
We say scarcely, for there was one mar
was he a man!2) who called on the con-
ductor to "put her out of the car" HI
received the open scorn of the company
His insensibility to such scenes of distress
almost defes belief; and yet this is, in eve