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_A FRAGMENT, after the manner of J. Y._
The sun was retiring behind a lofty ridge of mountains to gladden other
regions; the towering spires of the village churches were tipt with
gold; while the resplendent rays reflected from the windows dazzled the
eye. Above was the azure vault, variegated with fleecy clouds; beneath
was Nature’s verdant carpet. The little songsters of the grove were
paying their tributes of praise in melodious strains; the bleatings of
the lambs, and the lowings of the milky mothers re-echoed from the
vallies. The waters of a gently murmuring stream, which ran by the foot
of a mountain, were silvered o’er by the mild rays of the queen of
night. The soothing sound of a distant cataract gently saluted the ear.
The fragrant odors of flowers, watered by gentle zephyrs, breath’d a
delightful perfume.
Surely, says AMELIA, all nature conspires to calm the mind, to restore
tranquility, to soften every care. But what can ease the torture of a
love-sick soul; like the angry sea after agitation by blustering winds,
’tis still tumultuous. My PHILANDER sleeps in the silent dust; to the
king of terrors he has fallen an untimely prey: cold are the clods that
cover his once faithful breast. That heart which was once the seat of
sensibility, and endowed with every virtue, ceases to vibrate to the
sound of woe. The widow and the orphan shall point to thy tomb,
PHILANDER, and cry, There lies our friend and patron! She walked
pensively towards the place where his last remains were interred: Is
this white stone, emblem of his innocence, the only _memento_ of the
lovely youth?--No--thou ever livest in the soul of AMELIA; there, in
indelible characters, thy image is impress’d. I will strew thy grave
with flowers; I will raise upon it the green sod; I will encircle it
with willows. Let not unhallowed feet tread here; this place to love is
sacred. Nightly will I visit thy grave, nor shall the wealth of worlds
induce me to forego the mournful pleasure. If the spirits of the just
watch round their surviving friends, then surely thou art my guardian
angel. Dear shade, thou knowest the anguish of my soul: to me thou
can’st not be visible--where thou art, I soon shall be, never to part
again: in that state, where eternal love, and joy, and peace prevail.
While she stood entranced in pleasing anticipation, she reflected on his
last request:--“AMELIA, live to reward my virtues, friend, and bless the
world with a race of angels like thyself.” Suddenly she started at the
voice of complaining and of woe;--’twas TITIUS, breathing the anguish of
his soul to the silent night.--“Oh, AMELIA, thou lovely fair one, how
long must I mourn an unreturned affection? thou knowest I waste my
midnight hours in thoughts on thee; the conscious moon, the woods, the
groves, are witnesses of my love: I grieve unpitied--I sigh unheard.” As
he advanced towards her, she exclaimed:--“TITIUS, I know, I feel thy
sorrow;--if thou can’st in return for love accept of friendship, I am
thine. Thou knowest the object of my soul, the once adorable, amiable
PHILANDER.” In an extacy of amazement and delight, he cries--“Angels,
catch the sounds; ’tis my AMELIA’s voice: thy friendship is more
valuable than the love of TITIUS. Let us be happy. We will visit the
grave of PHILANDER together, and pay to his memory the tribute of love
and friendship. Each returning season we will decorate his grave with
flowers, till we go to join him in the world of spirits; where there is
an ever blooming spring, an eternal day.”
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