The Deserter: A Romance of the American Revolution, Chapters VIII-IX [pp. 726-732]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
CUPID WOUNDED.
[Translated from the Greek by a French Officer.]
As Cupid in the garden strayed,
And sported through the damask shade,
A little bee, that slept among
Tile silken leaves, his finger stung.
With tears his beauteous cheeks were drowned;
He stormed —he blew the burning wound;
Then swiftly flying through the grove,
Said plaintive to the Queen of Love:
"1 am killed, Mama-ah me! I dieA little serpent, winged to fly,
That's called a bee, in yonder plain,
Has stung me-oh! I die with pain."
The Goddess smiling, thus rejoin'd:
"My dear, if you such anguish find
From blind resentment of a bee,
Think what he feels who's stung by thee."
[.nacreont-Ode 40.
LINES
Accompanying a richly wrought Italian Coverlid, presented to
General La Fayette, on his first arrival at the Eagle Hotel,
Riclmond, Va., Oct. 1S94.
Sweet are the slumbers of the just and brave,
When toils are past, and peace and virtue reign;
But doubly sweet to him, who came to save
A new-born world from slavery's galling chain:
Sleep gently then; and, in thy tranquil dream,
May hosts of grateful hearts thy fancy greet:
While retrospection busy too, shall seem
T' enhance the welcome, you are now to meet.
Then gently sleep: Virginia's daughters fair,
Invoke each guardian angel, to compose
Thy war-worn cheek; and to thy couch will bear,
This little tribute suited to repose.
And, when life's latest sleep shall close thine eye,
And brighter worlds are opening to thy view,
May thy freed spirit'scape without a sigh,
To meet the just reward to virtue due.
SINGULAR BLUNDER.
Among the egregious mistakes which foreigners are
constantly committing, about the geography, social
state, and political organization of our country, we
have met with none more remarkable, considering the
intelligent source whence it comes, and the period of
its utterance, than one in the Edinburg Review for October, 1836; where, in speaking of various schemes of
reform for the British Parliament, the reviewer imagines
U.S. senators to be appointed in a mode never dreamed
of by any mortal on this side the Atlantic. HTe says:
"Others have proposed that the Upper House, like
the dmerican Senate, should be appointed by election
from a list of candidates presented by the Crotvw."1
THE DESERTER:
A Romance of the American Revolution, founded on a well
authenticated incident.
IN TEN CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER VIII.
Bacchus we know; and we allow
His tipsy rites.
Sir, are you here? things that love night
Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
Frighten the very wanderers of the dark,
And make them keep their caves. Since I was man,
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
Remember to have heard. King Lear.
It was on a dark and tempestuous night, when
scarcely a being was to be met in the gloomy streets of
the city, that Muller, the shoemaker of whom we have
spoken, having dismissed his apprentices from work at
an early hour, and entrusted his shop to the superintendence of his careful spouse, sat in the decently furnished back room of the second story of his unpretending, but snug habitation, entertaining a guest of somewhat dandified appearance. The shutters were carefully closed, and the apartment brightly lighted, while
on a table, between its inmates, stood a pair of decanters filled with sparkling wine. Everything around the
convivialists bore a cheerful appearance; and it was
only during the short pauses of a brisk conversation,
that the raging of the elements without might be heard:
and then the pattering of the rain against the shutters,
and the roaring of the wind over the chimney-top,
served but to remind them of the comfort of their
situation.
In the midst of their jollity, the wife of the shoemaker entered and informed her husband that sergeantmajor Champe, of the American legion, was in the shop
below, and wished to know whether his boots were
fintished.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Muller, with great
apparent uneasiness. "To be sure, I did promise him
he should have them to-night; but who, in the name of
wonder, could dream of his coming after them through
such a storm? He must be in a great hurry. Mr.
Wilmington, if it would'nt offend you, sir, I'd just ask
him up to take a glass of wine, by way of smoothing
over the disappointment."
"Vy you see, Mr. Muller," returned the red-faced
Mr. Wilmington (so called on this side of the Atlantic,
whatever might have been his name in his native country); "you knows, sir, as'ow I'm very partic'lar in
the company 1 keeps. In regard of that, howsomdever,
if you stands hanswerable for it-vy, as his honor, the
Colonel, said to Sir Henry Clinton, in my presence, its
on your responsibility, hof course."
"Just so, Mr. Wilmington, exactly so," returned the
shoemaker with great gravity. " Now, do you know
I like you for that very fashion you have of coming to
the pint without any hems or haws? Well I do, now,
really. Show up Mr. Champe, wife. The sergeantmajor is a fine fellow, Mr. Wilmington. When he
comes in, judge for yourself. Don't take my word for
726
Lamb.