For the Southern Literary Messenger.
EPIGRAM.
THE MISTAKE CORRECTED.
| Anne, my foolish fancy's o'er, And I cannot love you more— Nay, sweet girl, why knit your brow? Cannot love you more—than now. |
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
THE SPIDER.
The Spider taketh hold with her hands and is in
Kings' palaces.—Proverbs of Solomon 30:28.—
| What dost thou there, unlucky wight, Upon that cornice fair, Midst things so beautiful and bright? Thy many eyes might sure have sight To see that it would not be right To do thy spinning there! These things, I own are wondrous fine And beautiful and bright; And eyes, accustomed less than mine To things that so resplendent shine, No doubt to wonder would incline And gaze at such a sight; But I've been used to splendid things— Familiar long at Courts; In all the palaces of Kings, My beauteous five-twined net-work swings,— Of this a sacred poet sings And History reports. The wisest of the sons of men— (And glorious too was he) With graphic and historic pen Describes the blessed era, when Amidst his court—in glory then— He gave a place to me. Since then, each Queenly drawing-room Hath own'd me for a guest, And where the eternal roses bloom, In Tapestry, from the Gobelin's loom, To hang my own, I dare presume— Finer—by all confest. Tapestry in needle-work is seen In stately Hardwicke Hall; Done by the famous Scottish Queen When captive there,—her thoughts to wean From chequered past, or gloomier scene That might her steps enthral. My skill with her I used to try, When she was sad and lone, And oft amused her languid eye By spinning down so merrily; And now her handiwork close by Is proudly hung my own. Poor Coligni's untimely doom, When Medicis was Queen, Was pictured in the Gobelin's loom;— Colors of light o'er thought of gloom, Like sun-shine on an unblest tomb— Portray'd the historic scene. The broach and reed I saw them ply, And work the wondrous loom; Nor broach nor loom nor silk had I, But spun my web and wove it by,— They watch'd me with invidious eye And swept me from the room! The wise may triumph o'er the proud: Their work of skill complete Adorn'd the palace of St. Cloud,— And there, amidst the courtier crowd, Where weaver Gobelin never bowed, I took my honored seat. 'Twere long, my life and works to trace Through lines of Kings renown'd— How mirrors proud my net-works grace Where daily shines a princely face And hang—most worthy of the place— Corregio's pictures round. None my prerogative disown, Nor is it ought to me What Dynasties the nations own;— Whether Legitimates alone Or "Citizens" usurp the throne To make the people free. |