Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1858-10-07

SHAKESPEARE.
Love not. love not, the thing you love may change
The cheek still brightly bloom but not fer you,
Tho kindly beaming ye grow cold and strange,
The heart still warmly beat but not for you.
Away! away! you're all the same
A futtering jting. flirting throng--
And by my soub Iblush with shame,
To think I've been your slave so long.
MOORE.
What pretty woman does not worship her
own face? Before her mirror, Estelle for a
moment, gazed upon her beautiful image, and
almost forgot the VOW, which she had just
given, in self.admiration. Then with mer,
ry laugh, whose metallic ring differed widely
from the bland smile which she kept for
company, she retired to repose. Soon in
slumbers deep, she forgot the triumph of the
day. No visions of romantic devotion filled
her fancy and chased away the gentle wings
of sleep. No twinges of that most accom-
modating of all faculties -conscience-dis
turbed the gentleuess of her repose. Like
fairy dreaming on bed of flowers in some
sequestered dell, her delicately rounded form
pressed lightly upon the downy couch, while
hersnowy bosom heaved softly as if stream
of pure and guileless truth flowed over them.
Morning came-the glorious, ruddy morn,
"with breath all incense" Estelle was q.
gain at her toilette. That and her breakfast
dispatched she hastened to communicate the
gladtidingU to special friend and con6dante.
Annie Landor had been her roommate at
school, was her compeer in the arts Of delu-
sion, and the repository of her heart inmost
secrets. To her, sitting down at her escri-
toir, she wrote the following characteristic
note:
"DEAREsT ANNIE II wish so much that
I could see you, as have long string of
nonsense to tell you. A few days ago I
wrote you about the many pleasant acquain.
tanoes l had made in - , and especially
about Mr.. L.. Just as anticipated,
we are engaged! I wish you could see how
devoted he is--hear how many sweet things
he says and looks. A week hence and his
golden dream will be over, and be will think
his "Beautiful Estelle" more hideous than
Erynnis. He is also somewhat of poet
what ardent lover is not ? How many poets
do you think you and have caused to browse
on Parnassus and quaff the waters of He'll
con? Can you tell Dearest Annie? I will
leave this place tomorrow, and must crush
the hopes Of this rising bard, ere the halo
of fame encircles his brow, or I will be
crushed myself if he follows me to -.
I must keep my Capulet and Montague a.
part at any rate. But will see you soon,
and we will then laugh together over this
little episode: Until then-adieu
EssIE."
This letter was scarcely finished before
the eager ring of the belle announced the
entrance Of the happy Livingston. He had
called to engage her for an evening ride
A party intended visiting some romantic
scenery in the vicinity.
That evening Victor was joyous and ex-
hilarated. Their road woundalong the bank
of the beautiful Cascade, and the mountains
on either side rose up in solitary grandeur.
A short turn in the streamlet brought them
to mountain cove, which was appropriately
called the birds Nest" Here the freak
in Nature that threw up tie huge piles a.
round, had left circular crack Of ground;
just large enough for convenient farm
For nearly half mile, the clear, sparkling
wave winded like silver thread through a
fowery meadow and green waving corn, un-
til at last the mountains seemed preoipitated
across their path and la foaming cascade burst
upon the sight. This was the object of their
search. Dismounting they prepared to climb
to projecting rock, which would afford q
better view of the surrounding scenery
With light step Victor supported the fairy
form of Estelle Dalton. Reaching at last
the top, all the beauties of the cove and the
meandering Cascade were spread out before
them. For moment the party gazed in ST.
lent wonder, doing reverence to the grandeur
of Nature, and paying secret homage to that
Omnipotence, which set the rills singing,
and built up the rock-ribbed mountains, peak
on peak. Soon, however, the sublime effect
was dissipated in the merry laugh which
mingled with the murmur Of the waterfall.
Victor and Estelle soon strayed away to a Sc
oluded spot, where Nature had formed a
seat, where lovers might find repose or phi
losophers or poets I've to linger.
"This is such beautiful spot" began
Victor, "that I almost wish had first met
you here-then perhaps I might have been
eloquent, and you, perchance, would have
been less obdurate."
Estelle turned her luminous eyes upon
him With searching scrutiny, for she almost
fancied he spoke half in mockery; but in
his open countenance she only read the in
nate candor of his soul, blended with the
Wild rapture of surrounding Nature.
"Aud do you think" she asked, "that I
was too obdurate Perhaps had We met in
this spot, surrounded by so much that is
grand and sublime, I would have scarcely
humbled myself to the gentle dreams of love.
These rocks certainly would not have taught
me gentieness."
"Aye" responded Victor, "the rocks are
here, cold, hard and unfeeling, but above
us is the deep blue of heaven and the mel
low clouds aglow with sunset, while at our
feet murmurs the silver Cascade, and in ev.