Glasgow weekly times. (Glasgow, Mo.) 1848-1861, 1849-03-08
EDITH GRAY--THE FORSAKEN

A dream of poetry, that may not be
Written or told, exceeding beautiful"

''Sne was IIkc
A dream of poetry, that may not be
Written or told, exceeding beautiful"
"Oh, mother are these diamonds re-
ally for mel" said Edith Gray, as she
flew TO the mirror TO admire their fash
ing light and her dark ringIets, (and ne
yer surely did mirror reflect lovelier
face and figure with or without adorn-
ment.) How kind was this of papa?'
Suddenly she stopped while a bright
blush fitted over her cheek--her moth
er looked smilingly at her, and said.
"Shall | interpret that blush for you,
Edith? You are thinking Of Fiizhugh
and wondering if you will attract his
notice at the ball tonight"
The color deepened on Edith's cheek
and her beautiful eyes were yelled by
their long lashes, as she replied.
"You are right, mamma, | confess he
fascinates me; what noble air he has;
what speaking eyes and"
stop, Emma think you are more
than half in love already; with your ac
quaintance of half week"
"Surely, mother, it needs not months
or years to"
Find out whether a man is handsome
laughingly replied her mother, then ri
sing and kissing her forehead, she said,
"beware, Edith! have care Of your
heart, till you know whether he is wor-
thy of it,"
Never fear, dear mother" said Edith,
as with light step she bounded from
the room, There can be no guile there?
Take peep with me into the ball
room fair reader, The air is laden
with the perfume of countless flowers;
''soft eyes look love TO eyes that speak
again." fairy forms and gliding feet
keep time with the "voluptuous swclF'
of music, while amid blaze Of light,
the attraction of all eyes and hearts,
stands our lovely Edith. Her eyes need
not the aid of diamonds tonight, while
her raven locks fall over a neck that
mocks her snowy robe. Fitzhugh is
by her side. With person of match
less beauty; a tall commanding figure,
faultless features and a manner perfect
ed by intercourse with the best society
in his own and foreign countries, ad-
ded to a voice of singular sweetness
and power--was he not q dangerous
acquain, ance for our lovely warmheart-
ed friend? "No guile there" God
help thy trusting heart, Edith!-And
now her delicate waist is encircled by
his arm, in the giddy waltz, his warm
breath is upon her flushed cheek, while
murmurs of admiration are heard on
all sides of-how lovely! how surpass,
ingly beautiful
Fair reader, do you see that low
rooted cottage almost concealed by
luxuriant elms-its sides covered with
clinging roses and honey suckles? You
may well look up at that small window,
as you pass, and turn away, but look
again at that lovely picture. Is there
not beauty in that female head? look
at the rich black hair, waving over The
polished forehead, the lips of vermiIl-
ion, and the large lustrous eyes, but see
a tear is sparkling there! and how it
lies like gem amid the clustering curls
of that fair boy whose arms encircle
her neck.--Yes, she is a mother, with
no more traces of age than the child
who nestles in her bosom. A mother,
but not ,oJe! God help her.
Look again she sees us Mother
tears fall thicker and fasler-the boy
with his tiny hand tries to wipe them
away, and now and then puts up his
pou,ing lips TO kiss her. The mother
gszes at him thro' her tears, parts the