The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1850-06-04
The Bride % enc sun.

Some three years ago, there lived at Montmarire
in the private establishment of the kind and inde-
fatigable Doctor Blanche, a woman whose insanity
was singular and affecting. She was young, her
features were pleasing, and her smile still more so;
the only mental disorder she had was the belief
that she was betrothed to the sun--he had promised
her marriage, she thought, on q bright autumn
morning, and her lover had covered his radiant
visage with clouds, to avoid dazzling the eyes of
his mistress. Since that time, he had been hers,
and she his; she had felt her spouse's burning
glowing kiss imprinted upon her hand, and she
now lived for him alone. The sun was her
joy and her pride, and her glory; poor creature;
she rose at the very instant when her best beloved
cast his first rays across the sky, and hailed hm
with her looks, as the birds do with their songs,
the stream with its murmur, the flowers with their
perfume. The finer the day, the clearer the sky,
the more radiant the whole face of nature the hap
pier was the poor wretch Was II not her god
like husband that distributed light, and heat, and
warmth, and comfort around himf Was he
not monarch of the world, and was he not hsrsl
So she watched every change of place or appear
ance which her divinity presented; she seemed
anxious lose the feebIest of his rays and the
higher he rose in heaven, the more ardent was her
poetcal enthusiasm. She could hardly be per-
suaded to take her meals so full of her passion was
she; and to make her eat, il necessary to tell
her II was her divine spouse who had guided these
fruits, rpened this grain and these grapes-so that
she had right to sit down at the table he had
himself prepared for her. As night drew near, and
the sun was the point of sinking into the waters
OF the Seine, his tender spouse became As uneasy
as any poor fisherman's wife, whose husband has
been absent couple of months, when she hears
the sea roar. "What will become ofmy husband!''
she used 10 say-'If he only escapes accidentH
while he is on his journey" Gradually day would
give place to night; then she would clasp her hands
and cry-"Wait for me-waiIn" and hurry to rest.
Singular and happy madness! sweet delusion
TO feel that ones soul belongs the sun In heav-
en--tO have other desire than for an unsullied
sky-to fear nothing but the clouds that sometimes
obscure the face of the great iuminaryio be happy
whenever all nature Is happy! Such was the lie
| of this poor lunatic for ten years. She had her
| troubles too much as though she retained her
reason for as soon winter approached, and she
saw the face of her SPOUSE grow pale, like that Of
man mortally wOunded-When she saw his glory
hidden behind thick clouds, like great man whose
renown is blaekened by envy, she became the
most melancholy of women How long and sad
were the short days of winterl The more exalted
her bridegroom was, the did she suffer at see-
ing him debased obscured, enchained and helpless
But she is soon to be happy again; vet little while
and the sun pierces through the masses of thick va
por that conceas his brightness, and re-appsars in
all his grandeur and glory. So, when this moor
lunatic found her spouse, at the return of spring.
the same as he had been the foregoing season, and
saw the leaves of every tree and bush breaking
their prisons to welcome him, joy returned to her
spirit-she put her eayest dresses, and sung her
most cheerful hymn: Rejoice, all ye in heaven.
and on earth rejoice ye stars Of the armament and
rejoice, ye waves of the stream we angels who
are above our heads, and We men who tread the
earth beneath your feet, rejoice for my Spouse the
sun, was sick, and has come back in health he
was lost, and now is found."
This happy delusion, as we have said lasted ten
years, in spite of all the efforts of science. The
bride Of the died some three years ago. and her
death was as touching as her life. 1t was noon of
lovely day; the sun was bright, yet mid, and
showered down its purest rays on all creation His
bride, seated the turf under aged ftuit tree,
watched the movements of her august spouse in the
sky. Her heart had never been more filed with
love, her glances had never been more tender, her
dream had never approached nearer to a reality.
They understand each other so well-the sun and
she he moved SO slowly through the sky, doubt
less to have more time to look upon her she knet
before him. But, oh Heavens all at once the
fountain of light and heat stops, and grows dark;
all at once it disappears-not as formerly, sinking
gradually into the river, after having shaken brill
liant gold dust from his garments; bat pauses alb
ruptly, hides his visage, and is seen no more.
Where is he "Yes !" she screamed, my hus-
band is with Tival-he is false TO me he has left
me during the day. and will not return at night !"
and the poor creature, who lived only TO gaze on
him by day, to wait for him at night, greet him
in the morning, to sing his praise in the Spring, to
admire him in the Summer, and to weep for him in
the Winter-the poor creature, seeing him disap-
pear SO suddenly, without knowing whittier he
went, or when he would return, died during the
eclipse-died of jealousy, love and despair.