Thibodaux minerva., 1853-10-29

like the dews to heaven, to revive the heart
in the parting hour of anguish.
To render her widowed sitnation more de-
solate, she had incurred her fathers dis
pleasure by her unfortunate attachment,
and was an exile from the paternal roof.
But could the sympathy and kind offices Of
friends have reached spirit so shocked and
driven in by horror, she would have ex-
perienced no want of consolation, for the
irish are people of quick and generous
sensibiiities. The most delicate and cherish
ing attentions were paid her By families of
wealth and distinction. She was led into
society, and they tried by all kinds OF occu-
patton and amusement to dissipate her grief,
and wean her from the tragicai story of her
loves. But il was all III vain. There are
some strokes Of calamity that scalae and
scorch the soul--fhat penetrate to the vital
seat Of happiness and blast it, never again
to put forth bud or blossom. She did not
object to frequent the haunts Of pleasure,
but she wasas much alone there as in the
depths Of solitude. She walked about in a
sad revere, apparently unconscious Of the
world around her She carried with her an
Inward woe that Knocked at all the bianiish-'
ments of friendship, and aheeded not the
wisely zs z..
The person who told me her story had
seen her at masq uerade. There can be
striking and painful than 10 meet il in such
lonely and joyless, where all around is gay
too see ii dressed out in the trappings of
mirth and looking so wan and wo-begone.
as if il had tried III vain to cheat the poor
heart into momentaTy forg getfnlness OF sor-
row. After slfoiling through the splendid
rooms and giIdy crowd with aIl air of utter
abstraction, she sat herself down on the
steps OF an orchestra, and looking about for
some time with vacant air. that showed
her insensibility 10 the garish scene. she
began, with the capriciousness of sickly
heart, to warble a little plaintivs air. She
had an exquisite voice; but onthis occasion
it4was 50 simple, 50 touching, il breathed
forth such soul ofwrefchedness, Of that she
drew crowd mute and silent around her,
and melted every one into tears.
The story Of one 10 true and tender could
not but excite great interest in country re-
malkable for enthusiasm. It completely
won the heart of brave officer, who paid
his addresses to her and thought that Que SO
true to the deadscould not but prove affec-
tionate 10 the living. Shesdechnsd his at
tentions, for her thoughts were irrevocabIy
engrossed by the memory Of her former
lover. He, however. persisted in his suit.
He solicited not her tenderness, but her es-
TEEN. He was assisted by her conviction OF
his worth, and her sense Of her own dest-
tute and dependent situation; for she was
existing on the Kindness of friends. In
word. he at length succeeded in gaining
her hand ihongil with the solemn assurance,
that her heart was unalterably anoiher's
He took her with him to Sicily, hoping
that change Of scene might wear outahe
of early woes.s She wassan
amiable and exemplary wife, and made an
effort to be happy one; but nothing could
cure the silent and devouring melancholy
that had entered into her very soul. sShe
wasted away in slow, but hopeless decline,
and at length sunk into the grave, the victim
Of broken heart. rs
: II was on her that Moore, the distinguish
ed Irish poet, composed the following lines:
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps
And lovers around her are sighinG S -
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
n For her heart in his grave is lying.
She sings the wld song. Of her dear native plains.
Every note which he loved awaking-
All little they think, who delight in her strains, ~
How the heart Of the minstrel is breaking!
He had lived for his loye-for his country he died,
They were III that to life had entwined him
Nor soon shall the tears Of his country be dried,
Nor long will his love stay behind hmi
On! make her grave where the sunbeams rest,
When they promise glorious morrow
They'll shine Ger her sleep, like smile from the west
From her own loved island Of sorrow!
@l.
An UGLY PicrURE.-The Louisville Jour