We were parted ;—commerce lean And the wave-sprites yelled between us. As the trailing moss the earth- Love each little glimpse of verdure— But it came not-worn yet well- One sad morn-I mind it well- On the earth, like scattered sea-foam, He (my heart-plot's only flower) Was alive-was rich-was wedded Oh, that lying "By-and-bye!" Thus my locks were fretted grey A Pensioner's Reminiscences. BY S Had we never loved so blindly, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. (Continued from our last.) BURNS. "YES! the moment which the strongest dread had come and passed away, surrounded by every minister of pleasure, the squire unwillingly obeyed the death-call; his pride, pomp, wealth, and broad lands were alike powerless to save him from the shadow, the coffin, and the worm. "A few mornings after, numerous carriages were hastening along all the different roads and lanes leading to the hall, sent by the nobles and squireens of the surrounding country to swell the funeral cortege, a last tribute of respect to their patrician brother, and as those carriages passed, one might not have told whether to fete or funeral they were bound: such is the value of hollow form. "And the squire was borne once more to the gates of the old church, within which he had often slept to awake to all his pride, but where he was now to sleep the sleep of death, with the humblest pauper. As they laid him 'neath the sculptured blazoned vault, and hung proud waving flags o'er that heap of soulless clay, they seemed to fan a scorching flame around my heart, it was but the first breath of that overwhelming simoom which was being borne on to its work by the Afrite wings of adversity's wind. "Ere the scene had passed from the minds of those honest villagers, ere the wheel marks of that procession were effaced, the bell in the ivy-dighte old tower told by its funeral-note that another son of earth had made his exit from the stage of life. Yes! it was on the close of a summer-day when my father's spirit floated into the calm evening, out of the simple chamber of our simple cottage—past the little lattice festooned with roses, hyacinth, jessamine, and honeysuckle-past the old church, he had no need of an earthly temple now-past the lordly park, right up through the clear air-past the blue vault to a glorious communion with angels, saints, and martyrs. "The last offices were performed by a few rustic friends, and, although there was an absence of ostentatious rite, still the silent tears which fell from the dim eyes of those who stood around his grave welled from the heart; and sincere and soft words of affection were spoken, falling upon the ear like a blessed healing rain. We laid him, as he desired, beneath the shade of the old grey tower, and ere the first death-blade had sprung from his earthy earth-covered resting-place, Fanny and I had planted as a last token of love, violets, lilies and daises on his grave. On the morning after we had consigned all that remained of my poor father to the tomb, I presented myself (according to an order which all the tenants and laborers on the estate had received), with a sorrow-darkened heart before the new-great-man, who held in his hands the fate of many an honest and industrious household, in the service of the young squire, who had sent him from London, that mystic place to all country-folk, for the purpose of re-arranging the estate-lessening expenses-and obtaining all the money possible. On my entering the room where he sat, surrounded by piles of papers and deeds, with an expression of face as stern, inflexible, and immoveable as some of the old family portraits which hung dust-clad from the panelled walls, he raised his head and fixing his cold unimpassioned eyes upon me, said, "Nathaniel Davenport?' "That is my name, sir,' I answered. "Your father is dead,' he resumed. "And buried, sir.' "Your mother's name?'-dropping his eyes again on to the papers before him. "Mary Davenport, sir." Again looking up he added "The late squire most charitably made arrangements that a small annuity should be paid to your mother, after the death of your father, in case she survived him, together with the free occupation of the cottage in which she resides,-I will provide that the annuity is regularly paid.' Again looking at the papers before him, and ere I had time to thank him, which I was about to do, he continued "Your own services will be no longer required.' "Half suffocated and giddy at this to me appalling announcement, I was about to stammer out, Why-what had I done to deserve?'-when he motioned me with his hand to withdraw, and in a tone of voice which sealed my lips, said, 'That is sufficient,' "Confused, delirious, I left the presence of that servant-tyrant, and when the door of the room in which I had received my dismissal closed on me, I felt as if I had walked over the edge of the world, into illimitable space, 'the firm set earth' was to me as insecure footing as the fields of air. For many hours I wandered unconscious of all surrounding objects, the events of the past week crowded in review before me long, drawn out with maddening truthfulness. I cast myself at length on a green bank in the lane near to the peace-filled dwelling of my Fanny, and with my face buried in my hands, to exclude the light from my passion-dimmed and burning eyes remained there long-I knew not how longbut when a soft and delicate hand was placed upon my fiery brow, and a voice like music-wakened-echoes o'er the midnight-valley aroused me from that fierce consuming spirit-battle, the westernsun bathed in a sea of gold was sinking fast-by my side stood the form of a lovely girl, who in those hours of trial had sustained me by her spirit-presence. "Gently, very gently, and with angel-eloquence, she urged me to check such overpowering anguish, spoke of my mother, and her need of my watchful attention. Oh! how well do women know every chord of the human heart, and when to strike upon each,— what philosophers are they without any knowledge of books, antient lore, systems, or principles. Pressing my hand, and looking up into my face with a smile of heaven, she said, 'Though he is gone, never more to return, though the gloom has come and the dark cloud settled over loweringly, Nathaniel dear, my father will be a father to you, and will we not tend and comfort your afflicted mother. Oh! look at me, as you used to do in our playmate-days, smile as then.' "The rush of conflicting passions almost overcame my manhood -an inward struggle-a burning kiss pressed upon her marble brow-and I strove to be calm. It naturally occurred to me how was I to tell her the result of my visit to the hall; I knew she must soon have heard it from other lips, if not from mine. I was not the only victim to this system of disinheriting the labourer of his birth-right without any act of alienation on his part, but only forsooth to enable the silver-spoon-born to gamble away nightly their blood and sinews in a foreign land. I must confess, much as I always loved and venerated my father, his death had not caused my heart such grief as this last trial,-separation from him I well knew must take place sooner or later, but from the scenes of my love-life and from my Fanny never,-no never had I once thought W of the possibility of such a thing. But those hours of trial had transformed me from a boy to a thinking man: I had resolved to seek in the far-off metropolis the means of subsistance denied me in my native village, and the last effort required of me was to acquaint Fanny of my resolution. "With woman's natural quickness of perception, she soon discovered that there was something more on my mind than our late bereavement, and her many pretty little wining ways to draw the secret from me helped vastly to lull me into a temporary tranquillity. I 'screwed my courage to the sticking place,' I endeavoured to be the supporter not the supported. I told her, I fear with a trembling lip and faltering utterance, that we who lived together from childhood, must part; I sought to smooth the rugged truth, by assuring her that I would soon return a second Wittington, laden with fortune, and make a lady of her. But alas! no ideal future, be the picture never so brilliant, will sooth the heart-agony of such a moment, she clung wildly to my arm, uttered broken ejaculations like the sound of rent harp-strings swept by a tornado, her rich golden ringlets fell around my arm and commingling seemed as though they would bind us together despite the decrees of fate; the icy-chill of misfortune's hand was on our hearts as we stood beneath the summer foliage in the gloamin'. So standing, the nearing sound of wheels and the quick clatter of horses' feet recalled us to a sense of the outward world, a travelling carriage dashed into sight, and was soon upon us; "The right way to the hall,' enquired the foremost postboy, bending forward in his saddle and pointing onwards with his heavy riding-whip: I answered in the affirmative, and as it rolled by, my eyes mechanically rested on the languid pleasure-sated countenance of a young man, who was the sole occupant of the carriage. The clanking rumbling noise soon died fitfully away, leaving no trace that it had ever passed, save a serpent-coil of dust that seemed, as it wound around us to smother the little hope in a future that yet remained to us. The night-breeze hushfully crept about the leaves, and the inarticulate hum of evening made the silence heavily oppressive. I raised the head of the clinging girl —Oh, those moments!-How had they saddened that face of dream-like beauty!-How vividly it told of the deep emotions of her heart! "Hush! hush!' she said, 'how strangly rustles the vesperwind-how mournfully-how forebodingly. You will not, must not, leave me.-Oh, whither would you go?' |