Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1851-07-04
AMY IvANSWORTH, OR THE
BRIDAL.

Amy said a low voice, will you not
walk with me awhileF
She was staRding ct an open lattice
there was gay company within the lighted
hall. and the melody of laughing voices
blended with the rich swell of instrumental
music but she had stolen away from amongst
them TO a recess. where the ~splcndor of the
lamp fell around her like q dim twilight. A
multifora rose half covered the window with
the luxuriance of its branches and between
auivering leaves, fell a shower of moon
beams, covering her all over with a net work
of light. She was a splendid creature J
yet when ] stood gazing at her there, with
her head bent backward, until her dark eyes
lifted to the sky. till their long lashes laid
upon her brow-while | watched the deep
intenseness Of devotional feeling that was
written en- her parted lips and that high in
tellectual forehead-when | looked upon
the check, whose faint tinge scarcely told
that the sylphlike form, around which the
white robes fell 50 gracefully, was not in
deed the embodied dream Of the sculptor !;
and the delicate hand twisted among the
darlr tresses, till you scarcely knew wheth-
er ID transparent wilderness was aught else
but a struggling moonbeam-instead of ga
ling on her with that feeling of intense hap
piness, which we are wont to look on beauti-
full things, | was forced to close my eyes,
in order to conceal the tears which had I'M
consciously crept over them.
There was something unearthly about her
loveliness-too pure-too holy, for compan-
ionship with mortals ! Yet the morrow was
to be her bridal day and when | saw the
blood stealing over her cheek in deep tinge
as the voice Of her betrothed summoned heI
into the open air, | strove to Danish the i'll
omened melancholy, and to enter into the
more fitting merriment ofthe joyous dancers
But it was in vain the hot breath of lamp;
and the strains of the glad music, but deep
ened my fcverish melancholy, and with
feeling Of almost suff5cation, | again hurried
out into tho cool moonlight. It was strange
II sat down and stroye to reason with my
self-I could not account for my feelings
The youth on whom she had bestowed tn
deep devotedness Of her affections. was wor
thy, as mere man might be, to possess tn
treasure with which she had gifted him.
There was a fairy picture Of happiness be
fore her. aud why should / dim it with m
tears?
| was not present at the bridal, but er
the second evening had passed away, / agai
entered the hall Of Ivansworth to congratu
late my friend. Without, there was the sam
calm beautiful moonlight but within, tn
dim lustre Of one solitary lamp fell drea
lily over the deserted hall. The gay laug
of the joyous-hearted was heard no longe
and music. with its sweet enhancing spell
was hushed into silence. 1t was not like
scene of nuptial festivity, and | paced Il
apartment with a fearful, yet indefnab
dread Of some terrible EVENT. knew n,
what-and | dared not inquire, lest m
worst apprehcnsions should be realized. 4
length a faint stream oflightissued from OF
Of the inner rooms, and as the door slow
.unclosed, L caught the sound Of a low so
sPrang forward with a feeling of dcsp
ration there was the same lattice at Whit
had last gazed on the loneliness of Am
One Struggling moonbeam still fell throug
the almost closed shutter, but she was the
no longer.
On a couch in one corner Of the apartmer
was flung a manly form, seemingly undl
the influence of some uncomfortable grief
for his frame shook with ~convulsive shudde
ings, and those sobs which tell so much
mans insuportable agony, burst frequent
from his lips. Il was the father of Amy