POE TRY.
TI-IE CULPRIT FAY.
BY THE LATE JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.
:”Tis the middle watch ofa sumnier’s iiiglit—
The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright;
Nauglit is seen in the vault on high
_J3ut the moon, and the stars, and the cloiidless
sky,
And the flood which rolls its milky line,
A wave ofliglit on the welkin blue.
The moon looks down on old Crow N est,
She niellows the shade on his shaggy breast,
And seems his huge gray form to throw
In a silver cone on the wave below;
"His sides are broken by. spots of shade,
By the walnut bougli and the ceder made,
And through their clustering branches dark
"Glimmers and dies the fire-fly’s spark—
Like starry twinkles that moiiieiitly break
Through the rifts of a gathering teiiipest's rack.
The stars are on the moving stream,
‘ And fling, as its ripples gently flow,
A burnished length of wavy beam
In an eel-like, spiral line below;
. The winds are hushed, and the owl is still,
The bat in the shelving rock is hid,
And naught is heard on the lonely hill
But the cricket’s chirp and the answer shrill
Of the gauze-winged katy-did:
And the plaiiit of the wailing whippoorwill
\Vho mourns unseen, and ceaseless sings,
Ever a note of wail and we,
‘ Till Morning spreads her rosy wings,
And earth and sky in her glances glow.
‘Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell :
The wood-tick has kept the minutes well ;
‘ He has counted them all with clicking stroke,
Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,
And he has awakened the seiitry clve
That sleeps with him in the haunted tree,
‘ To bid him ring the hour of twelve,
And call the fays to their rcvelry ;
Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—--
‘Twas made of the white siiail’s pearly shell :
' I’ “Midiiiglit comes, and all is well !
\ Goblins.’ hither wing your way !
’Tis the. i.li.iwii of the fairy day.”
They come from beds of lichen -;_:‘rccH.
The)’ creep from the mullen’s velvet .$C1'C0U ;
Seine on the backs of beetles fly
" From the silver tops of niooii-touclicd trees,
\Vliere they swing in their cobweb liaiiiiiiocks
high,
Af]t‘I rock about in the evening breeze ;
Siame from the hum’-birds downy tiest—
They had driven him otit by clfin power,
And,pillowed on plumes ofliis rainbow breast,
.‘Had sliiiiibcrcd there till the chariiicd hour;
-\ Seine had lain in the scoop of the rock,
\-Vfatli glittering isiiigglass inlaid ;
And some had opened the four-o’elock,
And stole within its quivering shade.
t And now they throng the moonlight glade,
Above—-below—on every side,
Their little niiiiiick forms arrayed
In the tricky poinp of fairy pride!
_ They come not now to print the lea,
-' In freak and dance around the t.ree,
‘l. " .01‘ at the iiiiislii‘ooni’s board to sup,
And drink the dew froin the huttercup;
A scene of sorrow awaits them now,
For an elflias broken his vestal vow;
He has d:.1reil to love an earthly maid,
And left for her his woodlarid shade;
He has lain upon her lip ofdcw,
And siiiiiicd him in her eye of blue,
Faniied hcr check with his \\'iiigs of. air,
.I’layed with the riuglets of her hair,
And, nestling in her snowy breast,
Despised the lily-kiiig’s behest.
For this the shadowy tribes of air
To the clfiii court must haste away-—
And now they stand expectant. tlicrc,
To hear the doom of the culprit fay.
The throne was r_earcd upon the grass
Oftlic spice-wood and the sassafras;
On pillars of niottleil t.ortoise-siiel.l
,_I_Iurig the buriiislied c'.inopy—
And o’er them gorgeous curtains fell
Of the tulip’s crimson drapery.
"The monarch sat on his jiidgincnt-scat,
l On his brow the crown imperial shone,
' The prisoner fay was at his feet,
And his peers were ranged around the throne,
He waved his sceptre in the air,
He looked around and calmly spoke,
His brow was grave and his eye severe,
And his voice in a faltering accent broke :
“Fairy! fairy! list. and iiiark——
Thou hast broken thine clfin chain,
Thy flaiiic-wood lamp in queiichcd and dark,
, And thy wings are died with a deadly staiii—
Thou hast sullictl thine clfin purity
In the glance ofa mortal iiiaidcii’s eye,
Thou hast scorned and broken our dread decree,
And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high,
But well I know her sinless mind
Is pure as the angel forms above,
Gentle, and meek, and chaste, and kind,
Such as a spirit well might love—-
Fairy ! had she spot or taint,
Billet had been thy puiiisliiiient,
‘Titil to the spiteful liornet’s wings;
Tossed on the points .ofi1ettles’ stings ;
For seven long ages doomed to dwell
‘With the lazy worm in the walnut shell ;
Or every night to writlic and bleed
l Beneath the tread of the ceiitipedc ;
Or bound in a cobweb dungeon dim,
Your jailer a spider huge and grim,
.' Amo ig the Carrion bodies to lie,
. Of the worm and the bug, and the murdered fly :
' , These it had been t.liy fate to bear,
Had a stain been found on the earthly fair.
Now list and mark our mild decrcc—-
Fairy, this thy doom shall be:
Thou shalt watch the oozy brine
-Till the sturgeon leap in the bright moonshine,
Then dart in the glittering arch below,
And catch a drop from his silver bow.
"Tire water-spirits will wield their arms
9; And dash around with rear and rave,
[Arid v_z_ii_n are the woodland-spirits’ charmsa
They are the itiips that rule.tlie wave.
.iYet trust thee in thy single might,
slftliy heart be pure and thy spirit right,
_ "'l‘liou shalt win the warlock fight.
,'t_‘»tlii; spray-licad gem be won, .
The stain oftliy wing is washed away,
,"ut,;,1uotlier errand must yet be done
I . -if-’ ‘e thy shame and dishonour he lost for aye;
1,,’-: ‘flanie-wood lamp quenched and dark,
" ‘:'thoii must re-illtinie its spark.
'}It thy steed and soar on high
e heaveii’s blue canopy;
,.whcu thou scest a shooting star, I
'«'r;:“»_\v it fast, and follow it far—
ast faint spark of its burning train,
light thy fairy lire again.
.31 hast heard our sentence, fay;
c! to the water-side, away!”
Goblin marked his moiizireli well ;
spake not, bill be bowed him low,
plucked a crimson colcn—bcll,
d sadly turned him round to go.
_y is long, he cannot fly,
' faded wing has lost its power,
he wiiiils adowii the nioiiiitaiii high,
ning the long and weary hour.
igh dcwy beds pftiinglcd fci'ii,
igh groves of niglitslizidc dark and derii,
.lie grass and through the br:.il.'(,-,
e toils the ant and sleeps the snake;
' o’cr the violc-t’s dl/.lll'C flush
ps along in lightsomc mood;
l now he treads the brairiblc busli,
' points are died in fairy blood.
<2
73-1
it-;aper.l the bog. he has pierced the bricr,
'5_wiiui the brook, and waded the mire,
' spirit sank, and his limbs grew weak,
e red wzixctl fainter on his check.
lfallcn to the ground outright,
rugged arid diin was his onward/track,
4 \_
BY VVBI. G. HYER.
PRINCIPLES AND MEN.
$2 PER ANNUM.
VOL. 18.
N0}£VVALK, TUESBAYg JULY 21, 1835.
N0. 37.
But there came a spotted toad in sight,
And he laughed as liejumped upon his back;
He bridled his mouth with a silk-weed twist;
He lashed his sides with an osicr thong;
And iiowtlirougli evening’s dewy mist,
\Vith leap and spring they bound along,
Till the mountain’s tedious range is past,
And the beach of sand is reached at last. -«
Soft and pale is the nioony beam,
Moveless aiitl still the glassy stream,
The wave is clear, the beach is bright
\Vith snowy shells and sparling stones;
The sliore—surgc comes in ripples light,
In muriiiuriiigs faint, and distant moans;
And ever anon in the vasty deep
Is heard the splash of the sturgeon’s leap,
And the bend of his graceful bow is sceii—-
A glittering arch of silver sheen,
Spanning the wave ofburiiislied blue,
And dripping with gems of the river dew.
The clfin cast a glance arotiiid,
As he lighted down from his courser toad,
Then round his breast his wings lie woiiud,
And close to the water’s edge he stood ,
He sprang on a rock, he breathed a prayer,
Above liisliead his arms he threw,
Then tossed a tiny curve in air,
And headlong plunged in the watcrsbltic.
I
Up sprung the spirits ofthe waves,
Front sea-silk beds in their coral caves,
\_Vit.li sn;iil—i)late armour snatched in haste,
r.Fl10yS[)Ct‘.'tl.lllt1ll' way through tlieliquid waste ;
Sun”-, are 1-ajiiflly l,)OI’llC Tll()llg",
On the mailed shrimp or the pieklv prong’.
Sonic on the blood-red leeches glide,
Soine on the back of the laiiciiig quab,
And seine on the sidcliiig soldier crab;
And soirie on the gellied quarl, who flings
At once a thousand strcaiiiy stings-
Tliey cut the wave with the living oar,
And hurry on the mooiilightshore,
To guard their realms, and chase away
The footsteps of the invading fay.
Fearlcssly he skiins along;
llishopcs are high and his limbs are strong,
fl e spreads his arms like the s\valloW’s wing,
And he tlirows his feet. with a fi'o_;‘-like fling ;
llis locks of gold on the waters shine,
At his breast the puny foaiii—beads rise,
His bai_-.k glcams bright above the brine,
And a snowy wake behind him lies.
lint the wat.er spirits are gatlicring near
To check his course along the tide;
Tli'eii' warriours come in swift career
And hem him in on every side;
On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold,
And the quarl’s long arms around him rolled.
The prickly prong has pierced his skin,
The quab has thrown his javeliii.
The gritty star has rubbed him raw,
And the crab has struck with his giant claw.
He howls with rage, and he shricks with pain,
lIe strikes around, btit his blows are vain ;
Ifopclcss is the unequal fight,
Fairy! naught is left by flight.
He turned him roinid and fled aiiiaiii
\Vitli hurry and dash to the beach again;
He twisted over from side to side,
And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide.
The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet,
A iid with all his might fliiigs his feet,
lot the water spirits are round him still
To Cross his path and to work him ill.
They bade the hillow before him rise,
They flung the sea-fire in his eyes.
They stunned his ears with the scallop stroke,
\Vith the porpoise heave and the drum-fish croak.
Oh! but a weary wiglit was he,
\Vhcu he reached the foot ofthe dog-wood tree;
Gashed and wounded, stiff and sore,
He laid him down on the sandy shore.
He lilessed the force ofthe cliarmed line,
And be banned the water goblin’s spite,
For he saw around in the sweet iiioonshinc,
Their little wee faces above the britie,
Giggliiig and laughing with all their might
At the piteous hap ofthe fairy wight.
Soonlic gatlicitcd the balsam dew
From the sorrel leaf and the licnbane bud;
Over cacli wound the balm he threw,
And with cobweb lint he stanchcd the blood.
The mild west wind was soft and low,
It cooled the heat of his burning brow,
And he felt new life in his fibres shoot,
As he drank the juice of the eal’mus root;
And now he treads the fatal shore,
As fresh and vigorous as before.
\Vrapped in musing stands the spright!
’Tis the middle watch of night,
His task. is hard, the way is far,
But he must do his errand right
Ere dawning mounts her bcaniy car,
And rolls her chariot-wheels of light;
And vain are the spells of fairy land,
He must work with a human hand.
Ile cast a saddened eye around,
_lut he felt new jov his bosom swell,
As, glittering on the shadowy ground,
He iiiarked a purple iniisclc shell;
Thitlier he ran, and be bent bini low,
Ile heaved at the stern, and he heaved at the
bow,
And he pushed her over the yielding satid,
Till he came to the verge of the haunted land,
She was as lovely a pleasiirc-boat
As ever fairy had paddled in,
Forslie glowed with purple paint without,
And shone with silvery pearl within;
A seuller’s notch in the stern he inade,
Au car he shaped ofthe beetle blade; ,
Then sprung in his boat with a lightsome leap,
And launched afar on the calm blue deep.
The iinps of the river yell and rave,
They have no power above the wave,
But they heaved the hillow before the prow,
And they dashed the surge against her side,
And struck her keel with jerk and blow,
Till her guuwale bent t.o the rocking tide.
She wiiiipled about in the pale inoon—bcain
Like a feather that floats on a wind-tossctl
stream ;
And momently athwart her track
The quarl iiprcared his island back,
And the fluttering scollop bebiiid would float,
And spatter the water about. the hoat.;
lint he bailed her out with his coleii—bcll,
And he kept. her triniuied with a wary tread,
\Vhile on every side like liglit.iiiiig fell
The heavy stroke ofliis beetle-blade.
(')nward still he held his way,
'.l‘ill he c.-iimewlii-re the column ofiriooiisliiiie lay,
And saw beneath the surface diiii
The browii-b'.icked sturgeon slowly swim.
/'\.t'0l1llt.l him were the goblin traiii-—
int he sculled with all his niiglit and main,
And followed \A%)(,‘l'0V‘Gl' the sturgeon led,
Till he saw him upward point. his head ;
Then he dropped his bcctlc-blade,
And held his colcii goblet tip
To catch the drop in his crinison cup.
‘With sweeping tail and quivering fin,
Through the dark wave the sturgeon flew,
And like the lieaven-sliot javeliii,
I-Ie sprung above the waters blue.
Instant as the star-fall fight,
He plunged him in the deep again,
But left in silver shinning bright
The rainbow of the inoony main.
It was a sweet and lovely sight
To see the puny goblin there;
He seemed an angel form ofliglit
\Vith azure wing and sunny hair,
Tlironcd on a cloud of purple fair;
Circled with blue and edged with white,
And sitting at the fall of even
Beneath the summer bow of heaven.
A moment and its lustre fell,
But ere it met the billow blue,
He caught within his criiiisou bell,
A droplet ofiis sparkling dew—
Joy to thee, fay! thy task is done,
Thy wings are pure, for the gem is woii-—
Chcerily ply thy dripping oar,
And haste away to the clfiii shore.
He turns, and lo ! on every side
The ripples on his path divide;
And the track o’er which his boat must pass
Is smooth as a sheet of polished glass.
Around, their limbs the sea-iiymplis lave,
\Vitli snowy arms lialfswelliiig out,
\Vhile on the glossed and gleaming wave
Their sea-green riiiglcts loosely float ;
They swim around with smile and song;
They press the bark with ivory hand,
And gently urge her course along,
Toward the beach of speckled sand :
And, as he lightly leaped to land,
They bade atlitu with nod and bow,
And dropped in the crystal deep below.
A moment stayed the fairy there;
He kissed the beach, and he breathed a prayer,
Then spread his wings ofgilded blue,
And on to the ellin court he flei ';
As ever ye saw a bubble rise, .
And shine with a tliotisand changing dies,
Till lessening far through either driven,
It iiiingles with the hues oflicaveii :
As, at the glimpse of dawning pale,
The laiice—fly spreads his silken sail,
And glcrinis with blcndiiigs soft and bright,
Till lost in the shades of fading night;
So rose from earth the lovely fay-—
So vaiiislicd far in the heaven away !
Up Fairy! quit thy chick-weed bower,
The cricket has called the second hour,
Twice again, and the lark will rise
To kiss the strcakiiigs of the skies—
Quick! thy charmed armour on,
Thou’lt need it ere the night he done.
He int his acorn helmet on:
It wins pluined ofthe silk of the thistle down;
The corslet-plat.e that guarded his breast
\Vas once the wild bec's golden vest;
His cloak, ofthe rainbow’s iuiiiglcd dies,
' \Vas formed of the wings of butterflies;
His shield was the shell ofa ladybird queen,
i Spots of gold on a grouiidtofgi'ccn ;
And the quivering lance: which lie braiidislictl
bright,
\Vas the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
Swift he bestrede his fircly steed;
He bared his blade ofthe beiit-grass blue;
He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed,
And away like a glance ofliglitniiig flow,
To skim the heavens, and follow far
The fiery trail ofthe rocket-star.
The moth-fly, as he shot the air,
Crept under the leaf and hid her there ;
The katy-did forgot its lay,
The prowling gnat fled fast away,
The fell inosclieto checked his drone
And folded his wing till the fay was gone,
And the wily beetle dropped his head,
And fell on the ground as if he were dead ;
They crouched them close in the . darksome
shade,
They quaked all o'er with dread and fear,
For they had felt the blue-bciit blade,
And writlied on the point of the elfiii spear;
Many a time on a suiiiiner’s night,
When the sky was clear and the moon was
bright,
’I‘liey had been roused from the haunted ground,
By the yelp and bay oft.lie fairy hound ;
They heard the tiny bugle horn,
They had heard the twang of the maize silk
string,
\Vlien the vine-twig bows were tightly drawn,
And the arrowy sliaft tlirough air was borne.
F rcshcn’d with down of the hum-bird‘s wing.
And now they deemed the courier 0‘?!/DIN}
Seine liauntcd Sprigllt of tho cild rich ground ;
And they watched till they saw him mount the
roof
That canopies the world around ;
Then glad they left their covert. lair,
And freaked about in the inidiiight air.
Up to the vaulted iirinaincnt
His path the firefly courser bent,
And at every gallop upon the wiiirl,
I-Ie flung. a glittering spark hcliiiid;
I-Ie flies like a feather in the blast
’Till the first light cloud in heaven is past,
B ut‘tlie shapes of air liave begun their work,
And a driz'/.ly mist is around him cast,
He cannot see tlirougli the inautle niirk,
lle shivers with cold, but he urges fast,
Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade,
He lashes his stood and spurs ainain,
For shadowy haiids have twit.clietl the rein,
A.iid flaine—shot tongues around him play'd,
And near him many a fiendish eye
Glarcd with a fcll maligiiity,
And yells ofrage, and shrieks of fear,
Came screainiiig on his startled ear.
His wings are wet around his breast,
The pltiinc hangs dripping from his crest,
His eyes are blind with the light.iiing’s fltisli,
His ears are stnnn’d as the thunilers crash ;
But he gave a shout, and his blade he drew,
He thrust before and he struck behind.
Till he pierced their cloudy bodies tlirotigli,
And gushed their shadowy limbs of wind.
Howling the misty spectres flew,
They read the air with fri_glitfiil cries,
For he has gaiiied the wclkiii blue,
And the land ofclonds beneath lii-iii lies.
Up to the cope carecriiig swift
In breathless niotion fast,
Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift,
Or the sea-rack rides the blast, '
The sapphire bolt ofeve is shot,
The splicrcd moon is passed,
The eartli, it seems a tiny blot A
Upon a sheet ofazure cast.
0! it was sweet in the clear inooiiliglit,
To tread the starry plain of even,
To mark the twinkling lairips of night,
And feel the cooling breath of heaven!
But. he riiade no stop and he inadc no stay
Till he came to the bank of tlic milky-way,
he checked his coi_irscr‘s foot
clicd for the glimpse of the plaiict-shoot.
Sudden along the snowy tide
That swell'd to meet their footsteps’ fall,
The sylplis of heaven were seeeii to glide,
Attircd in suiiset’s crimson pall;
Around the fay they weave the dance,
They skip before him on the plain,
And one has taken his wasp-sting lance,
And one npliolds his bridle rein.
\Vitli warbliiigs wild they lead liiiri on
To where, through clouds ofamber seen,
Studded with stars resplendent shone,
The palace ofthe sylphid queen.
M,
Its spiral columns gleaming bright
\Vere streamers of the iiorthern light ;
Its ctirtain’s bright and lovely fltisli
\-Vas of the morning’s rosy blush,
And the ceiling for that rose abooii
The \\’llllC-i'lllt’I feathery fleece of noon.
But, oh! liow fair the shape that lay
Bciieatli a rainbow bending briglit,
She seein’d to the entranced fay
The loveliest of the forms of light ;
Her niantlc was ofthe purple rolled
At twilightiii the west afar;
’T was tied with threads of morning gold,
And buttoiftl with a sparkling star.
Her face was ofthe lily roon
That veils the vestal planet’s hue;
Her eyes, two bcamlets from the moon,
Set floating in the wclkiii blue.
Her hair is like the sunny beam,
And the diamond gems that round it gleam
Are the pure drops of dewy even
That iie‘cr have left their native heaven.
She raised her eys t.o the wondering spright,
yAnd they shone with smiles, for well I ween
Never before, in the bowers oflight,
Had the form of an earthly fay been seen.
Long she look’d on his tiny face;
Long with his butterfly cloak she played ;
She smooth’d his wings ofazure lace,
And handled the tassel of his blade;
And as he told in accents low
The story of his love and wo,
She felt new pains in her bosom rise,
And the tear-drop sta.rted in her eyes.
And “Oh, sweet spirit of earth,” she cried,
“Return no more to your woodland height,
But over here with me abide
In the i.'ll](l ofevcrlasting liglit!
\Vithin the flcccy draft we’ll lie,
\Ve’ll l ring upon the raiiibow’s rim ;
And all the jewels of the sky
Around thy l.row shall briglitly beam!
And thou shalt bathe thee in the stream
That. rolls its wliitcning foam abooii,
And ride iiilqti the lightiiiiig’s gleam,
And dance npoii the orbcil moon!
\Ve’ll sit within the Plciad ring,
\Ve’ll rest 1 pon Orion‘s belt ;
And I will bi my sylplis to sing
The song tint makes the tlew-iiiist iiielt;
Their harps are ofthe ainbcr shade
Tl)Z1l‘l].:~'lt‘.S the blush of waking day,
And evcgv aiiiing string is made
(f)f Silv ,‘_yT1l10()1lSl‘Ill]t)’S lcngtlicn’d ray;
And thou shalt pillow on my breast,
\Vhile l_icaveiily'brcathiiigs float around,
And, with the sylplis ofetlier blest,
Forget the joys offairy ground.”
She was lovel ' and fair to see,
§ V V
And the clfiu’s heart beat htlully;
Butlovclier far, and still more fair
The earthly form iiiiprintcd there,
Naught he saw in the heavens above
\Vas half so dear as his mortal love,
For he thought upon her looks so meek,
And he thought of the light flush on her check;
Never again might be bask and lie
On that sweet cheek and l1100I]li°‘lll. e to
B ' i ' (I i 1' '° ) '
iii in us reams ier orni to see,
To clasp her in his revery, _
To think ti ion his Vll'"‘lll bride.
l :3 . _
VVas worth all heaven and earth beside.
“Lady,” he cried, “I have sworn to-iiiglit,
On the word ofa fair l'ni«rht
To do my sentcncdd dclisk atiiglit ;
M honour sfiirce is free from stain
3’ . . . '
I must not soil its snow arrani :
I 0 O
Betidc me weal, bctidc me we
7
Its mandate must be aiiswercd now.”
Her bosom heaved with the pent-up sigh,
The tear was in that beaming eye;
But she led him to the palace gate,
And called her sylplis that hovered there.
And bade theiii fly and bring him straight
Of Clouds condensed a sable car.
\Vith. charm and spell she blessed it there,
From all the imps of upper air;
’I‘lien round him cast the shadowy shroud,
And tied his steed behind the cloud;
And she pressed his hand as she bade him fly
Far to the verge of the iiortlicii_ sky,
For by its litful quivering light,
A star was there would fall that night.
Borne afar on the wings of the blast,
Nortliward away, he speeds him fast,
And the courscr follows the cloudy wain
Till the lioof-strokes fall like patteriiig rain.
The clouds roll bzickward as he flies,
Each flickering star behind him lies,
And he -,:is reached the northern plain
And backed his fire-fly steed again,
Ready to follow in its flight
The streaming of the l‘OCli(-If-llgllt.
The star is yet in the vault ofheavcn,
But it rocks in the summer gale!
And no\v ‘tis fitful and uneven,
And now ’tis deadly pale;
And now ’tis wrapt in siilphury smoke,
And quenched is its rayless beam,
And now with a rattleiiig thuiider-stroke
It bursts in flash and flame.
As swift as the glance of the arrowy lance
That the storm-spriglit flings from on high,
The sta_r-shoot flew over the wclkin blue,
As it fell from the sliected sky.
As swift as the wind. in it.s trail beliind
The clliii gallops along,
The fiends of the cloud are bellowing loud.
Brit. the sylphid cliarin is strong;
He gallops uiiliurt. in the shower of fire,
VVhile the cloutl—fiends fly from the blaze ;
He watches each flake till its sparks expire,
And rides in the light ofits rays.
Int he urg‘d his stood to the light.ning’s speed,
And caiiglit. a gliminering spark;
Then wl_icclcd around to the fairy ground,
And sped thi'oi.igli the inii;liiigl_it dark.
Oupfic and goblin! imp and spriglit!
Elf of eve! and stari‘y fay !
Ye that love the moon's soft light,
I"Illil(.'l'-—l]lll'l(.‘l' weiid your way;
Twine ye in ajocuiid ring,
Sing and trip it merrily.
Hand to hand, and wing to wing,
Round the wild witcli-hazel tree.
\Veave the dance, and weave the song,
The wanderer is retiirned again.
His flame-wood lamp burns bright and strong,_
His wings have lost their crimson stain ;
Twine ye in an airy rotiiid,
Brush the dew and sweep the lea;
Skip and gainbol, hop and bound,
Rouiid thewild-witch—hazel tree.
The beetle guards our-holy ground,
He flies about the haunted place,
And if a mortal there be found,
He Iiuins in his ears, and flaps his face;
The leaf-harp sounds our rouitdelay,
The owlet‘s eyes our lanterns he ;
Thus we sing, and dance, and play,
Round the wild-witch hazel tree.
But liarkl from tower on tree-to) hirrli
, l a i
A sentry elf his call liasinade,
A streak shines in the eastern sky,
Shapes of moonlight flit and fade!
The hill-to) glcains iii iiiorninn’s s ll‘ll'l"“
r‘ l L _ r: at
I he sky—la.rk shakes his dappled wing,
The day-glinipsc glitiiiiiers on the lawn,
The cock has c-.rowcd——tlie fa 's are one.
) . {I
IVIISCE LLANY.
THE LEGEND OF '1‘l'IE SALINE Rivi:it.—Ma-
iiy years since long before the whites had exten-
ded their iiiarcli beyond the banks ofthe Missis-
sippi river, a t.ribc oflndiaiis resided npoii the
Platte, nearitsjuiiction with the Saline. Among
these was one the chief warrior of the natioii,
celebrated tlironghout all the neighbouring coun-
try, for his fierce and uiisparing disposition.—
Not a hostile village within several litindred
miles, but wailcd for those who had fallen be-
neath his arm, not a brook, but had run red with
the blood of his victims. He was forever enga-
ged in plotting destruction to his enemies. He
led his warriors from one village to another, car-
ryiiig death to the inhabitants, and desolation to
their home. He was a terror to old and young.
Often, alone and unattended, would he steal
nut, to bathe his hand inblood, and add new vic-
tims to the counties number of those whom he
had already slain. But fearful as he was t.o the
hostile tribes, he was equally dreaded by his
own people. They gloricd in him as their lea-
(lC‘-l‘.. btit. shrunk from all fellowship with liini.-
llis lodge. was deserted, and even in the midst
ofliis o\vii nation he was alone. Yctthcre was
one being t.liat clung to him, and loved him in
defiance ofthesterncss ofliis rugged nature. It
was the daughter ofthe eliiel‘ ofthe village; :1
bcatitiful girl and graceful as one eftlic fawiis of
her own prairie.
Thougli she had many admirers, yet when
the warrior declared his iiitentioii ofaskiiig of
her father, none dared come in competition with
so foriiiidable a rival. She became his wife,
and he loved her with all the. fierce energy of
his nature. It was a new feeling to liinr. It
stole like a siinbeani over the dark passions of
his heart. His feelings gushed forth, to meet
the warm affection of the only beiiig that had
ever loved him. IIcr sway over him was un-
bounded. He was a tiger tamed. But this did
not last long. She died; he utt.ercd no wail, be
shed no tea,r. I‘Ie returned to his _lmiely lndge
and forbade all entrance. No sound ofgricf \\'f1S
heard from it——all was silent as the tom b. The
iiiornitig came, and with its earliest dawn he
left the lodge. His body was covered witli war
paint, and he was fully armed as if lbr some ex-
pedition. His eye was the same, there was the
same sullen fire that had ever shot from its deep
sunk socket. There was no wavering ofa sin-
gle feature; there was not the shrinking ofa
single muscle. He took no notice of those
around him; but walked gloomily to the spot
where his wife was buried. Ilc paused fora nio-
iiiciit over the grave—pliickcd a wild flower
from among the grass, and cast it upon the up-
turned sod. Then turning on his heel, strode
across the prairie.
After the lapse of a month he rettiriied to his
village ladeiied with the scalps of men, women,
and children, which he hung in the smoke ofliis
lodge. He tarried but a day among the tribe,
and again set off, lonely as ever. A week elaps-
ed, aiid he rettiriied bringing with him a large
lump of white salt. In a few words he told his
tale. He had travelled many miles over the
prairie. The sun had set in the west, and the
tiiooii wasjiist rising above the verge of the lior-
izon. The liidian was weary. and threw himself
on the grass. He had not slept long, when he
was awakened by the low wailing ofa fcuiale.
He started tip, and at a little distance, by the
light of the moon, beheld an old decript'liag,
brandisliiiig a tomaliawk over the liead of a
young foinale, who was kneeling, i_ii_iploriiig
mercy.
The warrior wondered how two females could
be at this spot, alone, and at t.liat hour ofnight;
for there was no village within forty miles of the
place. There could be no hunting party near,
or he would have discovered it. He approach-
ed them; but they seemed nncoiiscious of his
presence. The young female finding her
prayers iiiiheeded, sprang up, and iiiatle _a des-
perate attempt to get posscssioii of t-lie tonin-
hawk. A furious struggle ensued,'but the old wo-
man was ViC_[()l'i(1US. Twisting one band in the
long black hair of her victiiii, she raised the
weapon in her other, and prepared to strike.—
The face ofthe young female was turned to the
light, and the warrior beheld with horror. llle
features of his deceased wife. In an instant he
sprang forward, and his tomaliawk was buried
in the skull of the old squaw. But ere he had
time to clasp the form of his wife, the ground
opened, both sank from his sight, and on the spot
appeared a, rock ()f'Wl1il.e salt. He had broken
a piece from it, and brought it to his tribe.
This tradition is still currcrit, among the dif-
ferent tribes offndians frequentiiig that portion
of the country. They also iiiiagine, that the
rock is still under custody ofthe old sqnaw. and
that the only way to obtain a portion of it, is to
attract her. For this reason, before zit.t.eiii,pl3-fig
to collect salt, they beat the giouiirl with clubs
and tomahawks, and each blow, is considered as
inflicted upon the person of the bag. The cere-
iiiony is continued, until they imagine she has
been sufliciently belabored, to resign her treasure
without opposition. This superstition, _tlipiig1i
privately ridiculed by the chiefs ofthe diflereiit
tribes, is st.ill practised by them, and most de-
voutly credited by the rabble.
P0lS0l\‘ING.—-The Persians greatly excelled
in this art. History relates that Queen Parysa-
tis, mother of Cyrus the younger, put to death
her (laughter-in-law Statira, by means ofa knife
poisoned on one side of the blade. A bird was
set before the two Queens at supper; it was di-
vided by the poisoned knife; Parysatis ate her
lialfwitli iinptinity, Statirai_licd. Eiiiineiitriicn,
in the corivtilsive struggles of the ancient repub-
lies, freqiieiitly carri_ed poison about them, that
they might if nec_essary, by suicide escape a
painful and ignominions death. Demosthenes
carried his in the hollow of his stylus, and Han-
nibal’s was ,co1,1ce,:_1lc(_l iii ,a ring. ‘
Poisoiiing became a subject'of.Itidiciz_il inqui-
ry in Rome about 2000 years ago.
In the latter part of the seventeenth and the
commencement of the eighteenili ceiituiy alady
by the name of Tofliina, flourished at Palermo.
She was skilled in the art of poisoning. At the
close of the 17th century she removed to Naples.
She contrived a delicate preparation of arsenic,
of which from.four to six drops were enough to
destroy a man. In common cases she was paid
for her panacea; but she had a heart open as
day to melting charity, and ladies, who wished
to cultivate the mortifyiiig grace of widowhood,
were supplied gratis. ’I.‘ol’f’ana considered that
if her arsenical syrup did not actually cure dis-
eases, it at. least, put. the patient out of misery,
which might be regarded as the next best thing.
she prepared it in small phials,stamped it with the
image of good St. Nicholas and labelled it as his
manna. One ofthese bottles is said to be still
in existence at Cologne. Poisoning at this time
was not positively lawful at Naples; and the
government at length began to bestir itself.-
Tolfana, disquieted at the circumstance, took re-
fuge in an ecclesiastical convent, where under
privilege of the place, she bade defiance to the
officers of justice, and continued to vend her
catliolicoii from the very bosom of the church.
She was at last however dragged from her place
of refuge and thrown into prison. A great out-
cry was raised by the Clergy, at this violation
of their privileges and the people, unwilling to
be defrautl_cd of their right to be poisoned, joined
in the clamor of the priests. But she was put to
the rack and confessed her guilt.
About a hiinilred and fifty years before the
lady above spoken of flourished, the art of sys-
tematic poisoiiing prevailed in England. Alaw
was passed about this time by the Legislature
of Great Britain, making murder by poisoning
high treason, and iiiflictiiig upon the offenderthe
penalty of boiling‘ to (lea!/1.. '
Under the reign of Elizabeth the crime of se-
cret poisoning was introduced froiri Iialy and
llourislied under the auspices of the great earl of
Leicester, the most magnificent subject that ev-
er adorned the British Court. This Italian was
the reputed instrument with which he removed
his victims. Among these was the Earl’s wife
A my lrlobsart, whom he married in 1560.—
Four years after this event, she disappeared, at
a very unlucky juncture for the Earl's reputa-
tion! “because the world at this time conceived
it might be much for his coiivenienec to be with-
out a wife, this island then holding two queens,
young and without linsbands.” The next ex-
periiiicrit of Leicester was upon Lord Sheffield,
who suddenly died, and as it was charitably ru-
mored of a Lrxiccstcr cold. Leicester shortly af-
ter espoused the widow, and under pretence that
the Queen would be offended at the marriage
compelled her to keep it a secret. He after-
wards required her t.o marry Sir Edward Straf-
ford. This she refused, till under the discipline
of Leicester, her hair fell off, and her nails drop-
ped out, and she did what was demanded of her
to save her life. The Earl of Essex went offin
the same way and for the same cause. Many
others were said to have travclled_tlie same road
and by the same conveyance. The Earl ofsus-
sex, Leiccster’s great. rival, was one ofliis reput-
ed victims. On his death bed he gave this warti-
ing t.o his friends. “I am passing into another
world and must now leave you to your fortunes
and to the Qucen‘s grace and goodness; but be-
ware of the gipsy, Leicester, for he will be too
hard for you all. You know not the beast as
I do.” Leicester proposed in council, that Ma-
ry, Quecn of Scots, should be removed by poi-
sou. ‘
BALL IN A I\‘IADI[0USE.—-The French cer-
tainly carry their trcatnicnt ofthe insane to it far
highcrpitch of refinement than we do. The
idea ofgiving a ball to the inmates ofa lniiatic
asylum may startle some of our mad doctors;
but what think they ofthe following precedent?
On the 7th iilt., the female patients of the Sal-
petriere were tratcd to a grand ball. The iii-
saiie ladies thcnisclvcs were intrusted with the
getting up of'tlie ciitertaiiiment; they adorned
the ball room with festoons, garlands, aiiddevi-
ces ; and in the midst, they crowned with immer-
(cllcs the bust of Pincl, the liberator of the in-
sane from the oi _ , cm of cruelty and terror.
The dancing, it is"'sm,\, went off’ with ciiarniing
effect; the students, intern and cxtern did the
honors; and the festivity was kept tip to an
hour sufliciciitly advanced for the satisfaction of
all the pai'tics—wlio, to do them justice, were
indefatigable in their exertions to please and to
be pleased. It should be added, that the gay
scene (which was appointed and arranged with
the most serious object) has been generally at-
tended with good effects; it served admirably to
fix and amuse the iniuds of the ‘patients; and
several who labored under inelancholia were
much diverted, fin‘ the time, from their iinagin—
ary woes. M. Esquirol seine years ago, it seems,
tried this method with success; but it is to M.
Pariset. the physician of the Saltpetriere, that
the credit is due of having so happily ventured
on its repetition in the presentiustance.——Medi-
cal (_-laz.
THE MOST I‘]£TtFEC'[‘ r;i:Au'rY.—Tliat is not
the most perfect beauty which, in publick, would
attract the greatest observation; nor even that
whicli the statuary would admit (0 be afaultless
piece of clay, kneaded up with blood. But that
is true beauty, which has not only a substance,
but a spirit, a beauty that we must intimately
know, justly to appreciate; a beauty lighted up
in conversation, where the mind shines as it were
throiigli its casket, where, in the language of the
poet, “the eloquent blood spoke in her cheeks,
and so distinctly wrought, that we might almost
say her body thought.” An order and a mode
of beauty which, the more we know, the more
we accuse ourselves fo_r not having before dis:
covered those thnnsaiid graces which bespeak
that their owner has a soul. Tlgiis is that beau-
ty which never cloys, possessing clia__rrns as re-
sistless as the fascinating Egyptian, for which
Antony wisely paid the hawble of the world—a
bcatit.y like t.he rising of his own Italian suns,
always enchanting, never the same.
According to statistical tables, the women in
all countries commit infinitely fewer crimes
than tiie men. In l=‘i1ance women form a fifth
part of the coiirleinned; in Ainerica only a
tenth; but lest the ladies should be vain,‘ we
may add that it is said that there is scarcely ev-
er a cririie comiuitted the origin of Which! may
not be in a great degree traced to their influ-
ence.
CAN SHE SPIN. ?---A young girl was present-
ed to James I. as an English prodigy, because
she was deeply learned. The person who in-
l'l‘t)(l|l(.‘e(l her boasted her proficiency in ancient
languages. “I can assure your Majesty,” said
he, ‘ that she ‘can both speak and write‘ Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew.” “These are rare ‘attain-
ments for a daniscl,” said Jame ; Efbut pray tell
me, can she spin '1” .
‘-Have you lieard the news, aunt Dolly ?”
said a little ragged urchin running into the house,
“No, deary.” '
“\Vell, l’ll tell it to you, aunty.”
“ Vhat is it, my little man ?”
"You know our Frank run away and went to
sea ?” '
“Yes.”
“\Vell the French it is said are going to pay
25,000,000 0fFmnZ-s belonging to us, and Iguess
aunty, our Frank will be aniop_g__t_hem.”
SiM1'Lici'rv.-—A servant girl, possessed of
great simplicity of character, and far more lioii_-
est than learned, was one day taken ill. Her
iiiistrcss discovering it said. “\Vhy Mary’. Wllat
is the m:itter, are you sick?” T-'lii.=. honest girl
plaintively replied. “YCS Il1=1'€LYl'la 1311 ‘_lU1!° 1111‘
well ; I‘m so sick I'm not expected to live.’’
Just‘ LIKE A HUSH.-\ND.--A Genncse lady was
questioning one of Tuscany on_ the number of
her lovers.” “Just at present,” replied the Tus-9‘
can fair, “I have but one.” "But one !”_ ejacu-
lateijnthe other,—-“what solitude.--Wl1.8-t ennui;
——w y it is just like a husband.”
To THE LAniEs.;-i‘!Yoting’s Patent S tr}:
Catchcr"'is advertised in the Philadelphia '.
G.a?'f‘~.t.l.s.- T‘ ' ‘ ' ‘ ‘ it P
Norwalk Chronicler