The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-12-17

1
cot its merriest charm. with web and wool
OF the many bright colors Of the wondrous
And Left on her lips so moist and red.
The sparkling smile of its gladde-t wine
To Illume and WOO to its task well done
The hearts Of youth that must spill on the
shrinei
With the softest eyes. with the lightest step.
OF fliry-iike feet, and the wealthiest head
OF golden curls, and a form yclept
Apurodite' : charm, the lovely design
Di God VINO dId show how winning and sweet
Was the human blossom when it bloomed
complete
From the glorious hands of Fate Divine
The flower was only an earthly flower
Tho il grew 50 perfectly formed and fair;
And bitter fruit was it doomed to bear
Tho 10 seemed 80 fitted for rea Inns above
j could not escape the poisonous bower
And mortal fate was it doomed 10 share
And a mortal : fate Is to feel the power
And to know the joys AID SORROWS Of love.
Many bold suitors had come to WOO.
Aud at last one came in a luckless hour
Who kuelt not down to WOO in vain;
For his brave, fair looks and words went
through
Her bounteous bosom and poisoned the brain
And she yielded him all, nor asked for ought
Save the pleasureful pangs that passions
brought.
Oh God and this white rose Bonded low
hlle the bee stole ont the honey dew
bh never was mower 80 sweet, fair
Mud never was flower robbed | know
Oh never did Lust yet do or dare
To search loves ways sothrough and through
For there was not left one joy untried.
Zach petal did yield its sweetness rare
on never was yet honey moon ofbride
That 50 many secrets Of passions knew.
oh Lust did roam all her beauty over
As the bee the meadow blown blossom OF
clover.
He chung to her lips with tremulous pride
And glutted Desire, while charms were new,
And Lust held fettered the tickle Lover.
Ana then he forsook the Paradise
Where the roses bloomed in bushes sweet
Where the daises gloamed more than fair
All he LETT ~ though yet SO warm, so neat
The apples OF Love or lust 70 the eyes,
Did beacon TO ioy TO n feast so rare
That God Of the Olden might deign to share,
lie left while yet on the purple tips
There warmth OF soul and passion to
The heart of Desire which would fondly dare
10 leap with joy while lips touched lips.
lie lett while vet in her tremulous sighs
n thousand sweet tongues OF her passion
spobel
Ana Told how so much more fond than wise
Was She, whose heart on its idol broke.
Full soonl over soon, was the song she sang
That ut first thrilling with joyanco
While the heart as vet had drowned no pang,
And time had not told how man could
change,
To turn 10 the chord that twanged with woe.
And o, then the cadence of sorrow that rang
A first so loud, and at last 50 low,
That methinks the vail did not reach or
range
To the most high God, or his nearest star.
And know this much full soon, over soon
Right down by the bridge below the Grange
a deed was done meath the ghostly moon,
A deed as dark deaths dreams are,
That ended life ere it reached its noon.
A deed was douel and flower was tossed
out on the tides Of death forever
As a voice cried out to the world, Lost y
Lost
And the world said, Go, and waken never !
And the stream rushed on in a sad embrace,
And murmurei on in a sad endeavor
To bear on its bosom the white sad face
And the beautiful form God made so clever
All down from the Grange you may 90 to-
night
And visit the shadowy, dreadful place
Where the mad and terrible deed was done,
And ! warrant you face all white,
And the sylph-hke form of the ghost of one
That passed away too soon, oversOOn
on viii see down there on the river bright
Ia the middle of night with the wistful moon
Yonder the Grange stands. enveloped il
shadow
Oftan olden oaks save the porch you see
Ruined and numbered with vines on the
And there right below is the garden and
meadow,
n
Where the pale moonbeams on the leaflets
sh INNER.
How still is the place the dead at rest;
But all do not rcst-for behold yon glmmer
or IA tall white robel All what can it be
See the white, sad face-so white that yol
shver
With fear, while it comes looking straight a!
in quest
OF somebody waiting by the bank of thu
IT'S Eleanor; behold one hand on her breast
She is coming again to her watery grave,
Whore her sad, white face you will see in thu
wavel
She died oversoon She died too soonl
Because of the love she gave overmuch.
She listened to vows and yielded the touch
OF a thrilling hand and fond embrace,
While none did watch but the amOrous moon
OH | will not go any more to the place;
l viii not go any more to the Grange,
For | dread to meet that white sad face,
And its silent rooms and shadows sigh,
Oh, man oh, men thy hearts will change
And will not visit at night the stream,
For as its waves go hurrying by
Methiuks | can hear plaintive cry
OF LOST" .'LostlH LOST while trembling
spy
That face and form in the waters CLEAN.
AT HOME, WARREN County, 1879.