Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1852-01-21
Orisiuul 5turq.
Written for the Spirit of the Age-RaIeigh.
THE BLOODY HAND.
BY WILL WILLOWlLL,
.4uthOr Of Mother and Daugher,' Pride
and Pen0rys Etc, Etc.


NWWWV ~ NWTW WTT HE WIII TUVE UI III LIET UTC. I
One hour of a passion so sacred is worth
Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss |
And Oil If there be an Elysium on earth,
IL 10 thief Is this -Mo0REs LaIG ROOkh.
Swelling on the fragrant breeze of the sum-
mers night, there comes the deep music eho-
rus Of mirth and joy, the wild melody of the
thrilling notes, the gushing shout of
glee, the quivering song Of the harp, as its
trembling strings are swept by the jeweled
fingers of the fair, the happy unison of the
song Of voices and harps have united in one
deep, deep chorus of JOY to make glad the
heart with the minstrePs music chant. All this
is not confined to tho palace hall, it sweeps
not alone across the yelvety carpet, il ~futters
not aloEe among the rich damask folds of the
floating curtains, it thrills not alone the leaping
hearts of the gay and happy ones We see in
the brilliant halls, il trcmbles not alone among
the glittering prisms Of the flashing chandelier,
but gushing from the palace hall it floats glad
w on the wavelets of Jehovah's free breeze to
us who thread the gaslit streets, to the toiing
laborer it trembles around the hapless beggar
who leans her weary limbs upon the stile, 1t
trils its wild notes of revel around the discon-
ISOLATE and melancholy, it wakes the chorus
echo OF the Gagged bird that swings in its pris-
on eyrie away up ut the Poets window. ii
is free and floating on the balmy breeze OF the
night, and il wakes the memory OF gladstone
hours, it holds spell-bound the listener, it stlrs
the music chords Of the souls fond passive harr.
Why this gush Of song and glee stirring the
silent vigils Of the night, and why this demon
s%tration ofjoy in the palace of the Hon. Iheo-
dore Abot ?
Glide with me into the spicy gardens of the
mansion and minglc with the throng that spend
the whispers Of Inirth there, and you shall hear.
Here and there bevies of the young and gay
are gathered, p~lucking the fragrant flowers OF
the garden or tip-tocing it to reach the rich
nectarine, the luscious pear or the ruby peach.
Here and there. couples are reclining on the gar
den stools busy in some whispered accents on
the science of gardening, on the astronomy of
the twinkling stars and the beaming moon that
are shooting their rays among the green ar
bOurs of the garden, or some subject unknown
to us. Perhaps they are friends, perhaps ac-
quaintances, perhaps cousins, perhaps lovers
we know MOTT matters not. Apart from the
tlrong are the two that arrest our attention
they are young and happy. The young man
is of noble micn his brow is stamped with
the signet of greatness and an exalted mora
being. He Is handsome, but we will lot at.
tempt description ofhis several features; suf
fee it for the present to say, that Eugene Neu,
vile was one of those noble sons of the eartE
who glitter in the moral armament q beacon
star to their country he was a young harris.
ter of fattcring prospects of future eminencC
\ ard immediat" independence possessed of
polished education, Il rich store of talents O.
no ordinary capacity, a winning manner and
handsome person, he could but see the temp
ting portercss Of Fortune swinging wide he
gates, and the Goddess of Fame bcckonins
him to the fruit-strcwn paths and pointing he
prophetic finger up, up - the laurel-wreathe'
Temple Of Honor, thatimight be all his own
Nestled at his side, in the vine shaded re
treat they had sought, there is a creature O
love. Beauty, health, love, rapture and jo
are beaming in self radiance upon her fai
countenance. The wild puIseIeaps of he
gentle heart, the smile, the child-like confidenc
that speaks an unwritten truth from her eyes
tell US how deep, how holy is that %affectio
that burns on her altar-heart, for him VIII
holds her passive hand in his, and presses tn
jeweled Singers to his lips, and breathes upo
the trembling diamonds the deep, deep viii:
per of love. She was a gentle spirit Of atfet
ton a guilelcss, happy being was Ellen Abo
What were the whispered breathings {
those beings we have seeDG
You shall hear.
'How oft, Ellen dearest, have we longe
for this one happy moment How long hay
we looked eagerly forward for this a~uspicior
date for the beginning of our perfect happ
ness! How changed how changed is tt
souls wild emotion now once We only fe
the incomplete joys Of unbounded love, b.
now. Ellen, we are one-linked together |
the golden ties of that sacred institution
our father =
yes, o yes said Ellen, when the no
man pronounced us one and inseparable, a ne
spring of rapturous bliss gushed its purlir
wavelets up in the overlooking soul, and
burning flame was kindIed in the boundiI
heart, that was IN known before. o it was
feeling deep, deep and holy, not of earth b
q creature Of the skiesp
30, Ellen, if this glad day is but a prclu,
of what is yet in store, how happy will be o
journey through LIES meandering path! He
blest is the moment when | can call you min
Thine, thine, forever thine, Eugene
MY treasure, my idol, my ALL and the {
raptured youth clasped his bride to his gen,
Gus bosom where the wild bound of his hei
was answered by the d0ye-like futter of Il
one gentle heart that loved him so wildly
deeply, and that was now all his own toFevC
Long did the party remain in the gard
Rgs OF the mansion, long and fervent v
sioquence Of love rchearscd there on
night of which We write. The party return
again to the lighted halls and again was hei
the music voice thrilling all with its whisp
mrs. One after another Of the ladies touct
the strained lutestring, and the music harp '
passed around from one to another. FL
was to play-she touched the quivering strl
and its warbling melody reached the hear
che joined her ringing voice with the tones
the instrument and it was touching and v
with harnony-it was a sonnpt-a flrev
solo to her parents, her home-her childho'
home-it was the true whisperings OF
heart, affecting, tender, mournful and plant
The song was ended. the fingers had ~
acroSs the thrilling chords the last time and
wall of the minstrel ceased, and its last m
whisper had died away, away Tears sparl
IN the eyes of many when listening to
deep eloqncnce of the brides farewell, itto'
ed the spring Of sensibility that lies slum
inc in the soul, and tears, tho unbribed
dencc, told it all. A sigh and a tear was
tribute and again the chant of JOY filled
go