The Eagle and the Swan [pp. 686-687]

Z T
prospect of appearing before God. Then I saw every propensity of my spirit in its true character; but above all my
sins appeared-my ingratitude towards God. I attempted
to pray: but is it rational to believe, that in the hour of extremity God will listen to those who have neglected him all
their lives; and refused to take warning, or be affected by
his goodness? I found no ground for consolation. Death
came creeping upon me, and there was none to whom I
might speak my feelings who would offer me consolation, or
ever.n bring a drop of water for my burning tongue. I groaned
aloud in the anguish of my despair, but there was none to
hear. I struggled with the faintness that came by fits upon
me-for I felt that my present miserable condition was better than the fearful eternity on the shadowy verge of which
I was hovering. Oh, the joy which sprang to my heart, as I
saw a human face beaming benignly upon me. He saved
my life; and I humbly trust that the All-Wise who sent him
to my aid, has seen fit to renew me in the spirit of my mind.
Mother! The generous man who bound my wounds with
his own hand, and bore me on his shoulder to the hospital,
was the same Prescott who behaved so nobly toward my
mad-brained sister."
"And did he not speak to you of me?" inquired the sobbing Ellen.
"Never!'He has too much delicacy for that."
"I suppose," she replied, "that he has forgotten me;"
and a sigh stole from her bosom.
" What has become of George Bradleigh?" inquired Mrs.
Carlton.
"He deserted his country in the dark day of her adversity and went over to the British, taking with him a pretty
little girl, an only daughter of a wealthy man in New-York
city. I heard since that she had returned to her parents,
having suffered great misery and destitution, and been deserted by her betrayer, who is somewhere in Europe."
* * *k * * I h rgtfodo evn
And lo! a fai r young Sw an,
Was floating on the stream,
Which rippled past her snowy breast,
With soft and silvery beam.
The Eagle's piercing cry
Disturb'd her placid dream,
And the broad shadow of his wing
Came darkling o'er the stream.
It was a sweet afternoon in June. The Carltons were
settled in their new house; the gardens and grounds were
new-fenced and planted; the innumuerable flowers were in
bloom; and the young trees drest in their tender foliage.
The family were at tea. Ellen had regained her health.
and her beauty had acquired additional lustre. Mrs. Carlton's heart was uplifted with gratitude, and there was but
one drawback on their happiness; they had received no intelligence of Mr. Carlton. There was a knock at the door.
Lucy went to open it, and returning, ushered in two gentlemen. I need not attempt to word the scene which followed;
for those gentlemen were Mr. Carlton, and Major Prescott.
When the tumult of ejaculations, embraces, and tears
had subsided, Ellen recollected that she had Prescott's gift
upon her bosom; for Charles had insisted that she should
wear it. Blushing crimson she endeavored to conceal it.
"I have observed it, Ellen," said the gallant man; "and
I have been at the trouble of seeking and liberating your
father, so that I might bring with me an intercessor, whose
word would be powerful to persuade you to accept the original of the picture which you have so kindly preserved."
I will now only remark, that Mr. and Mrs. Prescott were
soon settled in an elegant mansion, not far from the Carlton
place, on the border of the same clear river; where they
lived long amid the blessings of peace and plenty.
I live a lonely thing,
Each social flutterer's dread;
While dark above the rich warm earth,
My mighty wing is spread.
Dost envy me the heighth,
The sunlight of my wayThe beams that glitter on my plumes
Dry life's fresh streams away.
The conduct and conversation that other persons address
to us, will teach us as much of ourselves as the most elaborate self-examination. In the one case, we read ourselves
by a clear reflected light, while, in the other, we are mystified by self-flattery, passion and prejudice.
686
The- -gag'le and 1-he'Swan I Fable.
[SEPTEMBF,R,
THE EAGLE AND THE SWAN,
,i FABLE.
EY MRS. LYDIA JANE PIERSON.
High on the tallest pli'les
That form'd the mountain's crest,
Upon his broad untiring wiyigs
An Eagle lay at rest.
Like fire upon his plumes
The vei-tic sunbeams lay;
Flashing at every graceful tiir-n
Of his aerial way.
His keen eyes met the beam
With the pure diamond's glow;
Or dwelt like stars of living light,
Upon the scenes below.
There, iii a lovely vale,
With vivid green array'd,
Conversing with its sighing flow'rs,
A fresh bright streamlet play'd.
4
Imperial bird! she si,-h'd,
To thee the boon is given,
To bathe above this shadowy earth,
In the bright flood of Heaven.
How blessed is thy lot!
Thou beautiful and free;
Proud chosen banner of the brave,
And Star of Liberty!
Ho- swell'd the Roman heart,
Where thy broad wings were spread;
How joy'd in death so thou wert free,
And fluttering o'er his head!
At Freedom's blessed birth,
Her infa-nt form divine,
Was cradled in thy storm-rock'd nest,
Aiiiid the mountain pinc.
t
Oli! for thy lightning glance;
Thy pinion strong and free;
Thy glory on the inartial field,
Thy brilliant destroy.
And dost thou envy me?
The regal bird replied;
Thou little know'st how vain is all
The panoply of pride.
Se?f-Knowledge.
And hunger gnaws my heart,
As fierce I scent the prey;
And there is fainine in my nest,
Round which the whirlwinds play.