Whence the wild wail of agonizing woe
That heaves each breast, and bids each eye o'erflow?
Ah, me! amid the all involving gloom
That wrapt the victims of terrific doom,
While palsied fancy casts an anguish'd glance,
What phrenzied spectres to my view advance!
Appalled nature shrinks—my harrowed soul
Dares not the direful scene of death unrol;
Yet o'er the friends she loved the muse would mourn,
And weep for others' sorrows and her own;
To their sad obsequies would grateful pay
The heartfelt tribute of a mourning lay.
And lo! through the dark horrors of the night,
What form revered now rushes on my sight!
Ye blasting flames, oh spare the cheek of age!
Ah, heaven! they with redoubled fury rage!
Yet undismay'd she view'd the fiery flood,
Resign'd amid the desolation stood—
To God alone address'd her feeble cry,
Oh! save my child, and willingly I die!
Approving heaven propitious heard her prayer,
To bliss receiv'd her, and preserv'd her care.
Oh, long lov'd friend! oh, much lamented Page!
How did thy goodness every heart engage—
How oft for me thy generous tears have flow'd,
What kind attention still thy love bestow'd;
When sickness mourn'd or sorrow heav'd a sigh,
Thy useful aid benignant still was nigh;
The best of neighbors, and the truest friend,
O'er thy sad urn disconsolate we bend.
Heardst thou that shriek? the accent of despair!
The mother's deep felt agony was there:
My only hope, Louisa, art thou gone?
Is thy pure spirit to thy Maker flown?
Oh! take me too! the mourner frantic cries,
When such friends part 'tis the survivor dies!
She was my all—so gentle, good, and kind;
Then she is blest, and be thy heart resign'd!
And see, of sympathy, alas! the theme,
In woes experience'd, and in griefs supreme!
Yon aged matron now to view appears,
One thought alone her anguish'd bosom cheers;
For while on vacancy she bends her eye,
She sees her children angels in the sky!
Juliana! Edwin! beauteous Mary too!
To yon bright realm from earthly suffering flew;
Well tried in fortune's ever changing scene,
A mourner now with calm resigned mien,
Who bears a name to every patriot dear,
Nelson! who long Virginia shall revere,
Ah, see! submissive to the direful stroke,
No murmurs from her pallid lips have broke;
Though lov'd Maria, long her age's stay,
Whose duteous care watch'd o'er her setting day,
The awful mandate bade, alas, depart!
"Lean not on earth—'twill pierce thee to the heart;"
Yet must our sorrows stain the mournful bier,
When virtue lost demand the flowing tear!
And youthful Mary shares Maria's fate,
Her gentle cousin and endearing mate;
For hand in hand they mount the ethereal way,
To brighter regions and unclouded day.
Great God! whose fiat gives the general doom,
Speaks into life, or lays within the tomb,
Oh! teach our hearts submissive to resign;
Thy will be done—be much obedience mine.
And lo! advancing from the deepest shade,
A generous youth sustains a sainted maid;
Down his pale cheeks the gushing tears o'erflow,
And fancy's ear attends the plaint of woe.
Oh, much lov'd Conyers! lov'd so long in vain,
Could but my death thy fleeting soul retain,
Far happier I, than doom'd, alas! to prove
The bitter pangs of unrequited love;
My constant heart disdains on earth to stay,
While thou art borne to native realms away—
Nor at my hapless fate can I repine,
Since bless'd in death to call thee ever mine!
Oh, gallant youth! Oh, all accomplish'd maid!
At your sad shrine shall votive rites be paid;
There oft at eve shall pensive lovers stray,
And future Petrarchs pour the plaintive lay;
For, ah! behold a faithful wedded pair,
Blest too in death, an equal fate to share!
In their sad breasts no selfish fears arise,
Each for the other feels—each in the other dies!
Yon man of woes, oh! mark his furrowed cheek;
What deep-drawn sighs his misery bespeak:
'Tis Gallego! Each bosom comfort flown,
In the dark vale of years he walks alone.
And now amid the victim train appears
A friend of worth, approv'd through twenty years;
Just, wise, and good, true to his country's cause,
He from opposing parties gain'd applause:
From life and usefulness forever torn,
Virginia long for Venable shall mourn;
And for her chief, lamented Smith, shall share
His orphan's grief, his wretched widow's care.
Nutall—a man obscure, of humble name,
Virtuous, industrious, tho' unknown to fame,
Escap'd in safety—heard his wife's sad cries!
"Safe tho' we are, alas! my daughter dies!"
He heard, nor paus'd, but dar'd again the fire,
Resolv'd to save or in the attempt expire;
Oh! noble daring—worthy to succeed—
But Heaven forbade, yet bless'd the generous deed:
The daughter lives—the father's toils are o'er—
Where sorrow, pain and want, can wound no more;
In the bright glow of youthful beauties bloom,
Ill-fated Anna sinks beneath the gloom:
Her lovely orphan—yet too young to know
Her cruel loss or the extent of woe—
In deepest grief while all around her mourn,
Still piteous cries, "When will Mamma return!"
What tender cries, what anguish'd moans prevail,
How many orphans join the plaintive wail!
For Gibson, Heron, Greenhow, Gerardin,
And Wilson, borne from the heart-rending scene!
While frantic husbands, mothers, widows rave,
O'er the vast urn the all-containing grave!
But ah! my muse the death-fraught theme forbear,
Nor longer tread the abyss of wild despair;
I sink with life's distracting cares oppress'd,
And fain with those would share eternal rest;
Yet impious, let me not presume to scan—
Great God—thy ways mysterious all to man!
But while for mercy humbly I implore,
"Rejoice with trembling," and resign'd adore.

M. L. P.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.

I'll neither call thee beautiful
Nor say that thou art fair;
I will not praise thy witching eye,
Nor compliment thy hair;
I'll speak not of the roses sweet,
That blush upon thy cheek,
Nor of the tresses richly hung
About thy snowy neck.
For thou wouldst deem it flattery,
Altho' it would not be,
And flattery would never do
To win a smile from thee;
And surely I would proudly win,
Without the help of guile,
A look that would be mellowed
By the magic of thy smile.

JACK TELL.