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.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

GIRL OF BEAUTY.

Girl of Beauty! can you tell,
Gazing in the crystal well,
Who it is that madly dreams
Of thine eye's bewildering beams?
Girl of Beauty! is the bird,
In the spring, with pleasure heard,
When the melody of song
Leaps the listening boughs among?
If the birds delight the grove,
Can I hear thee, and not love?
Girl of Beauty! does the Bee
Love the rose's purity?
Does the Miser love his dross?
Does the Christian love his cross?
Then I love thee, gentle girl,
Dearer than the crown of earl.
Girl of Beauty! does the sky
Seem all beauteous to thine eye,
When the stars with silver rays
Brightly beam before thy gaze?
Thou art dearer far to me,
Than the stars can be to thee.
Girl of Beauty! does the tar
Love to dream of scenes afar,
When the mildly sighing gale
Fills the proudly swelling sail?
Then I love to dream of thee,
And thy sweet simplicity.
Girl of Beauty! does the boy
Kiss his sister's cheek with joy
When they meet in after years,
Having parted once in tears?
May you kiss your brother soon—
Ere the rounding of the moon.

JACK TELL.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

THE RECLAIMED.