The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1855-10-06
= Vuucbins gtorp.
DORA GRAY;
OR,
MISPLACED AFFECTION.
BY CORNELIA VI. BOWLING:

and smiled beneath the dcw-lrops and
sunlight, and fresh brcezes played as
wildly, and the birds sang as ,joyously
among the willows, as though no dark
shadows had ever rested upon those 81
lent ones, who, weary Of earth, had lain
down to sleep in the slumbcr of the
tomb.
There was new grave dug in the lit
tie church-yard, and IL crowd were gath
cred round-a cold, hcartless crowd,
gazing, many with curiosity, some with
cold Indifference, and Il few, Il rery few,
with pity upon the coffin which rested
upon its brink.
1t was but little coffin, for slight and
delicate had been the fragile one whose
sweet, pale face, beautiful even in death,
with its cold brow shaded by the ripples
OF golden hair, lay unshrouded for a mo-
mcnt, that those who had loved to look
upon it i'll life might gaze for the last
time upon it's marble lovclincss.
Poor Dora Gray
Few who saw thee two short years ago,
fitting like a sunbeam among the birds
and flowers, would have thought so soon
to see thee here, cold, pale, and robcd
i'll thy snowy slroud
But sleep ON, poor, wounded, strlck-
Ell one. thy heart was all too warm and
passionate for this cold world. 1t has
beaten, throbbcd, quivercd, broken
Sleep on.
Dora and had been friends from child
hood, and 50 beautiful, with those bright,
golden curls of hers falling like sun
beams about her fairy form, and Il face
that claimed ownership to the prcttiest
pair of laughing blue eyes, and the dear
est, danticst little rose bud of mouth
i'll all the word-at least our bright
little world of Glcnara.
And then her laughter why the lit
tie birds would stop to listen to the clear,
silvcry notes, as they sang 50 merrily
among the trees.
Dear little Dora how we all loved
her, with her winsome ways, and sunny
little heart.
There was no shadow resting upon the
childhood of our darling, an only child,
loved, pettcd and carrcssed by every
one, was it amy wonder that We had
marked out bright, tiowcry pathway
for our Dora, All we knew not then
that thorns are often lurking meath the
blossoms of earth; We have learned it
since.
What pity we may not always be
children. there are so many sad lessons
to be learned in ripper years.
But Dora grow, from IL bright, laugh
ter loving child, into fair, blooming
maiden, and still the shadow rested not
upon her brow. Wild and thoughtlcsS
as the hrcczcs which sportcd with her
own bright curl>, who but her merry lit
tie ladyShip, was the leader III every
piece of frolic and fun which we laugh
ter loving ones could devise.
Something of IL coqucitc too was Dora,
and having been favored by nature with
Il remarkably small share Of what phrcn-
ologists would call 'sthc orgon Of vcncr;,
ton," not even the august title of
"Rcvcrcnd,' had the effect Of shading
! the dancing beauty of the laughing eyes,
that fell as fearessly upon the digniIied
roSscs>or of that appcllation as upon
amy of his parisllioncrS.
And thus, when the pale intellect
looking young clergyman came among
us, and took up his abode at her fathers
housc-intinite were the miscellaneous
FRANKS which the lady took delight in
playing off, upon his devoted head ut
tcrly unawcd even by the gentle reproof
that lay in those sad, dark eyes, which
she so often met fixed upon hers, with
wild, earnest gaze.
Poor Walter Woodville. he was rery
often lonely, for one after another of those
whom he loved best on earth had passed
away, leaving himalMost desolate in this
cold world and he longcd for some one
to fill the void within his heart.
When he first saw Dora he had been
struck with her fairy like beauty, but as
he met her day by day, he sighed over
her as wild, light-heartcd, wilful child,
who was very loveable, and very sunny,
but who still was child-,nd yet some
times he would picture to himself light,
graceful figure leaning upon his arm,
who would seem to be his own, sweet,
loving little wife, and-it was rery
strange-but the golden hair and soft
blue eyes of Dora would belong to the
fairy being, nesting so closely, in tn"cy
to himself. ...~
Alas it was bit in fancy. Poor Wal
ter Woodville!
| remember so well the bright sunny
morning in autumn he had coaxed Dora
to take sail with him on tho lake, ex
pccting, no doubt, charming tete-a-tete
all to himself, with the provoking little
lady; but nothing was further from Miss
Dora's thoughts-if she had any, which
is doubtful-and she insisted upon asking
her cousin Frank Haywood and my UNI
worthy self to be one of the party.
1t was a beautiful day. The sunlight
danced and sportcd with Dora's curls, as
though claiming relationship to those
bri ght tresscs, the lake was looking up
into the blue sky, with its pretty face
smiling in dimples, and the trees and
flowers seemed singing swcctly with the
zcphyrs, as we foatcd onward.
We were all bright, and happy heart
ed, except Walter Woodville; he seemed
strangely distracted, and SO far forgot
l,;,,,,I If NJ ;lo ,,,,incr utn Dora & owes. ms