But Heaven forbade, yet bless'd the generous deed: The daughter lives--the father's toils are o'er-- Where sorrow, pain and want, can wound no more; In the bright glow of youthful beauties bloom, Ill-fated Anna sinks beneath the gloom: Her lovely orphan--yet too young to know Her cruel loss or the extent of woe-- In deepest grief while all around her mourn, Still piteous cries, "When will Mamma return!" What tender cries, what anguish'd moans prevail, How many orphans join the plaintive wail! For Gibson, Heron, Greenhow, Gerardin, And Wilson, borne from the heart-rending scene! While frantic husbands, mothers, widows rave, O'er the _vast urn_ the _all-containing grave!_ But ah! my muse the death-fraught theme forbear, Nor longer tread the abyss of wild despair; I sink with life's distracting cares oppress'd, And fain with those would share eternal rest; Yet impious, let me not presume to scan-- Great God--thy ways mysterious all to man! But while for mercy humbly I implore, "Rejoice with trembling," and resign'd adore. M. L. P. For the Southern Literary Messenger. LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 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.