To the Patrons [pp. 96]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MAESSENGER.
TO MISS L. H. W.
To thee, my Fair, I must not speak
Of Auld Lang-syne,
For, only youthful years, as yet,
And pleasures have been thine:
Of Auld Lang-syne, my Fair,
Of Auld Lang-syne;
It is not thine to think, as yet,
Of Auld Lang-syne.
But yet may'st thou remember me,
W5hen childish days were thine;
That thou hast sat upon the knee,
Of Auld Lang-syne;
Of Auld Lang-syne, my Fair,
Of Auld Lang-syne;
And frown'd (when he would ask a kiss)
On Auld Lang-syne.
Long may thy days of bliss remnain,
And happiness be thine;
When the green turf, and willow tree,
Are all that's left of mine:
Of Auld Lang-syne, my Fair,
Of Auld Lang-syne,
Thy Father's friend!-Then may'st thou think
Of Auld Lang-syne.
Tfilliamsburg,./pril 17, 1822.
LA FEUILLE DESECHEIPE.
De ta tige detach6ee
Pauvre feuille desechde
Ou va tu?-Je n'en sais rien:
L'Orage a briise le chene,
Oui seul etait mon soutien:
De son inconstante haleine,
Le Zephyre on L'Aquilon,
Depuis le jour me promiene,
De la foret a la plaine,
De la montagne au vallon;
Je vais on le vent nme mene,
Sans me plaindre ou m'effrayer,
Ou va la feuille de la rose
Et la feuille de laurier!
TRANSLATED.
THE WITHERED LEAF.
"Poor withering leaflet! oh where are you going,
While the loud thunder rolls, and the night wind is
blowing?"
"Ah! that I can't tell, for the lightning's fierce stroke
Has shivered the trunk of my guardian oak;
And torn from its stem, I've been hurrying since dawn,
Over mountain and plain, over valley and lawn.
On-on with the tempest, wherever it blows,
Unresisting I go,-but where-nobody knows.
Yet I, fearless, go onward, wvithout sigh or tear,
For why should I weep, or for w hat should I fear,
Since I only am going where every thing goes,
Whether leaf of the laurel, or leaf of the rose."
TO FANCY.
I hail thee, lightsomne spirit of air,
Thant whom no essence was e'er more fair!
I hail thee, companion of boyish hours!
Let us trip through the world and gather its flowers.
Bouyant and light, with the spirits of night,
We'll free the beam from its cloudy net,
O'er sea and o'er land, with the fairy band,
WVe'll chase the ray till the moon shall set.
We'll ride the breeze with the thistle-down;
Night's dewy bath shall be our own:
We'll wake the flowers with the voice of spring,
And we'll lead the dance of the fairy ring.
WVe'll offer the Mermaid vows of love,
And chase the nymph throlugh the coral grove;
We'll sport with the spray while the billows rave,
And we'll gather the gemls of the foamy wave.
With the nymphs of the sea we'll sport where they dwell,
Till they sing us to sleep in some ruby shell;
Or we'll sound the shell in the ocean's bed,
Till the voice of the storm is unheard o'er head.
We'll come on th.e sulky gnome, by stealth,
As he glowers and guards his useless wealth.
We'll sport where the wings of the zephyr repose,
Or we'll rest with the dew on the breast of a rose.
We'll go where the tints of the lily are made;
WVe'll go where the loveliest flower is arrayed:
Whilst unsullied its tints, its hues we'll assume,
And we'll borrow the breath of its new perfume.
'We'll sport awhile with the Muse's wire,
Though the harp be strung with chords of fire;
Or unfurl our wings where their song is known,
And we'll fly away with some dulcet tone. FErCJs.
TO THE PATRONS OF THE
SOUTIERI LITEIARY BIESSENGER.
In issuing the present number of the M\essenger (tlhe
first of a new volume), I deem it proper to inform myly
subscribers, and the public generally, that Mr. POE,
who has filled the editorial department ior the last twelve
months, with so much ability, retired from that station
on the 3d inst.; and the entire management of the work
again devolves on myself alone. Mr. P. however, will
continue to furnishl its columns, fiom time to tiie, with
the effusions of his vigorous and poputlar pen,-and my
old contributors, among wvhom 1 am protud to number
some of the best writers in our state and country, wvill
doubtless continue to fivor me with their valuable contributions. I shall hope, therefore, wvili some confidence,
that the Messenger will not lose any portion of the interest or reputation whvlich it lms acquired, and -%which I
shall, of coutrse, anxiously endeavor to preserve. At any
rate, I can most honestly piroimise aely patrons, that I shall
continue to use miy utmost exertions to make it every
way worthy of their favor and support.
It is perhaps due to Mr. Poe to state, that he is not
responsible for any ofthe articles which appear in the present number, except the Reviews of Bryant's Poems,
George Bulcoinbe, Irvinog's.storia, Reynolds's.3ditress
on the Sooth Sea Eapedition, dntthot's Ciccro,-tlthe first
ntumber of J;Rthlr Gordon Pyrn, a sea story,-and two
Poetical effusions, to wiich his name is prefixed.
I have only to add, that in prosecuting my publica
tion, w hilst I shall lhope iand ask nothing for nmyself but
the fair reward which is due, tinder the blessing of Di vine Providence, to honest industry and good intention,
1 shall leave my contributors and subscribers to divide
among themselves the honor of making and sutpp,orting
a work, which shall be wvorthy of them and creditable
to the literary character of our common country, and
more particularly of our Southern States.
THOMAS W. WHITE.
RichzeJX'id, Jamzn.ory 26, 1837.
96