Washington telegraph., 1854-10-11
The Beautiful Maniac.
"The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch Is kindled at is blaze
a funeral pile. D

Is lone as some volcanic lSIei
No torch is knded at its blaze
a funeral pie.7
In the morning train from Petersburg, there
was lady closely veiled. in the same car with
ourselves She was dressed in The purest white,
wore gold bracelets. and evidently belonged to
the higher circles of society. Her hgure was DEL
icate, though well developed, and exquSiteiy
symmetrical; and when she occasionally drew
aside her richly embroidered veil, the glimpse OF
the features which the beholder obtained, satisfied
him of her extreme loveiness. Beside her sat
gentleman in deep mourning, who watched over
her with unusual soicitude, and several times
when she attempted to rise, he excited the curl
osity of the passengers by OBTAINING her IN her
seat.
Outside the cars all was confusion; passengers
looking to baggage. porters running. cabmen cur
sing, and all the usual hurry and hustle attend
iEg the departure OF a railroad train. One shrlll
warning whistle from the engine, and we moved
slowly away. At the first motion of the car, the
lady in white started to her feet with heart
piercing scream. and her bonnet falling off. dis
closed the most lovely features we ever contem-
plated Her raven tresses fell over her shoulders
in graceful disorder: and clasping her hands in
prayer, she turned her dark eyes to heaven
What agony was in that look! What beauty, too
what heavenly beauty-had not SO much OF
misery been stamped upon it. Alas! that one
glance told melancholy tale
"-She was changed,
As by the sickness Of a SOUL her mind
Had wandered from its dwelling and her eyes
They had not their own lustre, but the look
Which is not of EARTH she was become
The queen Of fantastic realm; her thoughts
Were combinations of disjonted things,
And forms inpalpable and unpei ceived
OF Others sight, familiar were to hers
Her brother the gentleman in black, was unre-
hitting in his efforts to soothe her spirit He led
her back to her seat, but her hair was still un-
bound and her beauty unveiled. The cars ratified
on, and the passengers, in groups, resumed their
conversation. Suddenly wild melody arose; it
was the beautiful uaniac's voce-rich full, and
inimitabe Her hands were crossed on her heav-
ing bosom, and she waved her body as she sang
with touching pathos-
"She is far from the land where her young hero
sleeps,
And lovers are around her sighiug.
But coldly she turns from their gaze and iseeps
For her heart in his grave is lying,
"She sings the wild songs other dear native plains
Every note which he loved awaking-
All! little they think, who delight i'll her strains
How the heart Of the minstrel is breaking"
Her brother was unnamed and he wept as on
ly man can weep. The air changed and she con-
tinued--
Has sorrow thy young heart shaded,
As clouds ser the morning feet;
Too fast have those young days faded,
That even in sorrow were sweet!
Ii thus the unkind world wither
Each feeling that once was dear;
Come, child of misfortune, come hither
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear"
She then sang fragment OF the beautiful
hymn