Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-09-05

breath of Wild roses and honeysuckles float
ed from the fresh, free woodlands, making
the dim walls of our school-room seem like
those of a prison.
And when the warm summer days had
when the wild songsters folded up
their bright wings in some cool recess,
when the pale lilies bowed their hot heads
on the edge of the old pond, there was the
rude seat under thick-leaved maple, grown
over with moss, where we leaned against
the carved trunk and conned ovel@e array,
and cried for spite at Daboll.
Many time had dear Flora in her school
days sat beside me there, we thirg,,
soothing my peegish spirit with be- soft I
voice, and helping me to master the hard
lesson before me, but now the slender girl
was blushing into womanhood, and would,
ere long, be bride, while school girl
still, daily plodded the old familiar way,
and bore, in my glad return, the tender
messages of an absent lover.
And you should have seen her then, dear
reader seen the brilliant fash of her large
black eyes, and the happy flush that crept
up from the round, smooth cheek to the
broad, full forehead, seemingly snow-white
in contrast with the shining mass of mid
night culs, in which it lay embedded. You
should have seen her, as the neatly folded
billet was laid in the little quivering palm of
pink and white, whilst smile, like gush
ofsunshine bursting through parting clouds,
broke over her sweet face, and you'd have
thought it were blessed thing to love.
Times wheels revolved slowly to the
waiting maiden. The still October days
had come, with the rich brown nuts, tremb-
ling from their cases, and dropping upon
the messy mat beneath, that lay all spotted
over with the red ife-drops of consumptive
nature.
The last rose of summer bowed its sweet
head and died in the lap of Autumn, which,
crowned with gold and crimson vestments,
wandered through the old woods, moaning
around the leafy graves of the faded and
gone of Flora's buried band.
And how we rambled, Flora and [, among
the golden-hued leaves, showered down in
the old deep woods, twirling and tossing in
stray gust that hurried through the rust
ling forest aisles, in swift chase of herd of
tiny breezes singing away, down in the
quiet vale.
! Well do | remember the calm, dreamy
time when we sat upon the moss-cushioned
roots of the old oak, that woVe. trembling
shadows of brown and purple upon the fa-
ding green of the warm, sunshiny meadow,
which swept and swelled away from the
little hollow of the gurgling brook, that
/ lay like silver thread at the foot of the
: narrow path, winding down the woody slope
s from the cottage gate.
a Two weeks more,' said Flora, throwing
back the long black riuglets from her bright
q eyes, behind two little ears, like rose-col
d ored shells upon white sea shore. Two
more weeks and then Edward will be here !
$ and peeped slyly up into her round, laugh
ing face.
!, But the autumn days went slowly ava,
e and no Edward came to still the throbbing
/ Of her anxious heart Days and week
J rolled on, yet nough ght was heard from the
L loved wanderer.
g And now another bowed at the shrine o
Ii the beautiful, detected girl-Frederic Gray
son, the dark and handsome post Office dig
e nitary of the village and his deep eye
d flashed with malignant fire, as the mourn
= full maiden gently declined the brids
wreath.
e We saw her fading slowly, day by day
4, the same sweet smile was on her lip, bu
h the red was gone from its curve, and th
d brilliant light stole no more from beneat
the dark, thick.fringe of the dropping eye
1t lid
l. With laggard pace I daily approache
y the cottage home, for shrank from NEE
N ing the despairing look of the unmurmurin
d maiden as I shook my head sadly to he
nquiring gaze.
le But one chilly evening in the winte
u when the white snow-fakes had spread
le gauzy mantle along in my way, the har
ID of Frederic Grayson laid folded sheet
of my open palm, with peculiar flash of h
deep eye, and the simple words at last
r. Joy gave wings to my feet, and the Gg
in snow lay crushed and blackened beneat
k, them, as flew on and on to the watchir
err fair one. The same glad sparkle as yor
er came from those large eyes, and the ros
G ]! tint foated and swan again in the roul
re dimples of her velvet cheek, as she clasp'
ID the welcome missive and broke the seal.
n An exclamation of distress broke fro
ne Mrs Fay, and | turned from my child
ac- demonstrations of exuberant gladness,
to Flora. A death-like pallor overspread h
face; the open letter lay upon the carp
we with not single trace upon its sno'
IN folds. A long, black curl of her beautii
tie hair, given to Edward at parting, was S,
if, pended from her white fingers.
be- No wild shrek or sudden swooning tt
lth the tale of a broken heart, but the de
ous calm of voiceless woe was mirrored in
- mild, meek face
gly A few days more, and we learned fir
in the mother of the false Edward, that
me had wandered farther away from. his b
ill hoods home, and that no remembrance
Flora was breathed forth in his letters
We Strange, that the relentless hand of Ii
the should shut the door of Memory upon
ere so lovely, and hush the Tyre of Love!
'wn The dark, wintry days passed away,
tall the golden sunshine gushed from the az
osy- skies, and the bursting buds of Spr
lins time pushed open the dewy lids of t
ter emerald cases with their dainty leaf-fng
over and all about the white cottage was br
and blooming again.
the sat again with dear Flora in the v
and shaded porch, when the eye of day
lack turned from the world, and we cast
1t the blue rim of the west lingering
here at ito da,oortod y,,onorob Tbo thiD M