Cherish'd name
Of that sire who has cover'd his offspring with shame, -
Of that husband whom justice has wrench'd from thy side
Of the wretch, who the laws of his country defied?
Poor, heart-broken mourner! thy tears faster flow,
Time can bring no oblivion to banish thy woe;
The sorrows of others are soften'd by years.
Ah, what now remains for thy portion but tears?
Anxieties ceaseless, renew'd day by day,
While thy heart yearns for one who is ever away.
No hope speeds thy thoughts as they traverse the wave
To the far-distant land of the exile and slave.
And those children, whose birth with such rapture was hail'd,
When the holiest feelings of nature prevail'd,
And the bright drops that moisten'd the father's glad cheek
Could alone the deep transport of happiness speak;
When he turn'd from his first-born with glances of pride,
In grateful devotion to gaze on his bride,
The loved and the loving, who, silent with joy,
Alternately gazed from the sire to his boy.
Ah! what could induce the young husband to fling
Love's garland away in life's beautiful spring,
To scatter the roses Hope wreath'd for her brow
In the dust, and abandon his partner to woe?
The wine-cup can answer. The Bacchanal's bowl
Corrupted life's chalice, and poison'd his soul.
It chill'd the warm heart, added fire to the brain,
Gave to pleasure and passion unbridled the rein;
Till the gentle endearments of children and wife
Only roused the fell demon to anger and strife.
By conscience deserted, by law unrestrain'd,
A felon, convicted, unblushing, and chain'd;
Too late from the dark dream of ruin he woke
To remember the wife whose fond heart he had broke;
The children abandon'd to sorrow and shame,
Their deepest misfortune the brand of his name.
Oh, dire was the curse he invoked on his soul,
Then gave his last mite for a draught of the bowl!
CHAPTER XXVI
A CHANGE IN OUR PROSPECTS
The future flower lies folded in the bud, -
Its beauty, colour, fragrance, graceful form,
Carefully shrouded in that tiny cell;
Till time and circumstance, and sun and shower,
Expand the embryo blossom - and it bursts
Its narrow cerements, lifts its blushing head,
Rejoicing in the light and dew of heaven.
But if the canker-worm lies coil'd around
The heart o' the bud, the summer sun and dew
Visit in vain the sear'd and blighted flower.
During my illness, a kind neighbour, who had not only frequently
come to see me, but had brought me many nourishing things, made by
her own fair hands, took a great fancy to my second daughter, who,
lively and volatile, could not be induced to remain quiet in the
sick chamber. The noise she made greatly retarded my recovery, and
Mrs. H - - took her home with her, as the only means of obtaining for
me necessary rest. During that winter and through the ensuing
summer, I only received occasional visits from my little girl, who,
fairly established with her new friends, looked upon their house as
her home.
This separation, which was felt as a great benefit at the time,
greatly estranged the affections of the child from her own people.
She saw us so seldom that she almost regarded us, when she did meet,
as strangers; and I often deeply lamented the hour when I had
unwittingly suffered the threefold cord of domestic love to be
unravelled by absence, and the flattering attentions which fed the
vanity of a beautiful child, without strengthening her moral
character. Mrs. H - -, whose husband was wealthy, was a generous,
warm-hearted girl of eighteen. Lovely in person, and fascinating
in manners, and still too young to have any idea of forming the
character of a child, she dressed the little creature expensively;
and, by constantly praising her personal appearance, gave her an
idea of her own importance which it took many years to eradicate.
It is a great error to suffer a child, who has been trained in the
hard school of poverty and self-denial, to be transplanted suddenly
into the hot-bed of wealth and luxury. The idea of the child being
so much happier and better off blinds her fond parents to the
dangers of her new situation, where she is sure to contract a
dislike to all useful occupation, and to look upon scanty means and
plain clothing as a disgrace. If the re-action is bad for a grown-up
person, it is almost destructive to a child who is incapable of
moral reflection. Whenever I saw little Addie, and remarked the
growing coldness of her manner towards us, my heart reproached me
for having exposed her to temptation.
Still, in the eye of the world, she was much better situated than
she could possibly be with us. The heart of the parent could alone
understand the change.
So sensible was her father of this alteration, that the first time
he paid us a visit he went and brought home his child.
"If she remain so long away from us, at her tender years," he said,
"she will cease to love us. All the wealth in the world would not
compensate me for the love of my child."
The removal of my sister rendered my separation from my husband
doubly lonely and irksome. Sometimes the desire to see and converse
with him would press so painfully on my heart that I would get up in
the night, strike a light, and sit down and write him a long letter,
and tell him all that was in my mind; and when I had thus unburdened
my spirit, the letter was committed to the flames, and after
fervently commending him to the care of the Great Father of mankind,
I would lay down my throbbing head on my pillow beside our
first-born son, and sleep tranquilly.
