Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1859-12-28

II Is Il song wnicn stops nim-anu nc pau
ses by u hali:upencd window to look unsccI
on the singcr-an old lay which he had hum
med by the side Of Lake Geneva, and whose
mourntul notes had recalled his boy.hood'
home.
Listen to it it comes like breath of hca
ven'over the discurdant noises without
"Why my hcart-al! why this sadness,
Why mid srcnc$ like these repine;
Where all though strange, is JOY and gladncSs,
Say what wish can yet be thing
Oh SAY what wish can yet be thine?
All that's dear to me is wanting
Lunc and cherries lcrc roam:
The strangers joys hOwecr enchanting
Can never be to me like home
Can never be to me like home!
The silkcn curtains partcd-a pair Of burn
ing eyes were fixed on the stars above, and
Eustace felt-Gor he was familiar with the ia.
ces of foreign chnes-that he gazed upon an
Italian. Oh! how lovely the face, and how
divine that voice! He could have looked for
ever on vision lairer than his poet-dreams
How beautiful she was in her sweet uncon
sciousness, as she warbled forth the song
which brought back her own loved Italia-as
she fingered over the lines:
"Can never be to me like home"
Now Eustace could appreciate music-not
the studied efforts of art-but the simple out
gushing melodies of nature, and he paused,
spell.bound, attracted as much by the sad
dened music breathing from that sweet young
face, as by the bird-like voice which entranced
the listening ear cf night. "That face would
make the fortune of an artist" he murmured
mentally. Would that were one so that !
might transfx iton canvass even as it is pain
ted ON my heart. Oh! glorious gift ofbeauty
tile beanty Of soul !"
He surveyed the apartment from his retreat
bu; it gave no clue us to its owner. 4 few
paintings adornelthe walls-they were moon.
light scenes and landscapes mostly, and one
was the picture o; beautiful child at play
;.u.ong the flowers. Several articles Of Gurni.
,ure were paced in different parts ot the room
IA piano, ilarp and Huitar We're viiible-til
companions for an embodied spirit Of music
A lamp burned on the table, and beside ii
was Il writing desk OF curious shape and in,
laid with gold.
Bat who could look oH things like these
When une su fair WAS near.
Once more his eyes rested on that face
sad, too sad for the. face OF youtb,--and he for,
got to speculate is TO who aud what she was.
Bright olive complexion. SO clear that you
could sec the small blue veins as they coursed
unl r;.lath tl,edc!cllc skin--rrynlarand ar'is,
tical'y chi>c;lcd teatnre.-;l mouth that y
banning !,v" mi.ll have mistaken Tor - =
Ted rose ;,u.!---auL eyes, wonderful, brilliant
midnight cyes,-!rpw >oii, >u!"!nc'', AID ten
der-,uw ll;.shing, beS l,lering, bright!
Still that .ico wari'l''s OIL
.Er h.th caught 81 touch of sadness,
lie, il il not sad:
II hath tones of cleurest gil.lncSs,
Yet i, is not sla'l:
4 dim. sweet, twilight voice it is,
Where To days accustomed blue
+ over .raycl with memories,
With starry feelings Tuivered through.
And F:us,acc Walcot has for the moment
G,r,o,,.n the whole world in that one voice
Bat others are altractcl-o'hcr footsteps
come up and pause.
"Handsomc on or off the stage, Hal"
"Eh who is she =
aThc new opera singer yon BOBBY, that th'
whole world is ravins about-isn'tshed divine!
Rathcr-oh that were 4 glove on tlla
fair Land-see how daintily those Guges.tip'