Raven-hair'd! and yet so fair, in opening youth!
Dark-eyed! with snowy brow of beaming truth!
How can thy Destiny but happy be?
Loved of a hundred hearts! bright rising star!
Light that shall bless admiring eyes afar!
How many breasts shall wildly throb for thee?
Thine too, for one of kindred worth shall sigh,
With thought deep-seated in his soft blue eye,
Fair, but with sun-tinged roses on his cheek;
Liberal in speech, in action bold and free,
Save when with timid love he bows to thee
And silent muses what he dare not speak.
Thou hast not yet beheld, but shalt ere long--
And loved, drink in the music of his tongue,
And feel thy bosom a strange thrill pervade:--
Fortune and health shall on your union smile,
And lisping lips shall every care beguile,
Till late in peace, thy lamp of life shall fade.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
And Ruth said, entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from
following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou
lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
God.
Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so
to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.--Ruth i. 16,
17.