The Southern Literary Messenger, Volume I., 1834-35

Spring.

To see thy tiny songsters rear
With wondrous skill, their home of love;
And hear each praise the other's care
In songs, that might be breathed above.

To watch the modest flowret's growth,
The spotless type of love on earth
Which nightly droops, as though 'twere loath
To quit the breast that gave it birth;

Or lay me down beside some brook,
Where I may muse the livelong day,
And drop my oft neglected book,
To dream of others far away.

Such is the joy, the quiet bliss,
Of holding converse sweet with thee,
And wooing, still, thy favoring kiss
Midst nature's wilds, in fancy free.

But I must bide within my room,
Content to breathe, alone, thy air,
And feel that it is double gloom,
Because thou art so lovely, there.

A PRISONER.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

MR. T. W. WHITE.

Dear Sir:—You have been so kind as to solicit something from my pen for your interesting periodical. With great pleasure I transmit the enclosed sheets, in the hope that you may find them suitable to the Messenger.

The subject I consider as particularly congenial with this delightful season, which has been truly said to constitute the "great jubilee of nature;" awakening our sympathy with young life, and drawing our attention to the promise and hazards of the vegetable creation, amid the cheerful labors of agriculture.

Nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos;
Nunc frondent sylvæ, nunc formosissimus annus.

But I am sure that my subject has an interest, independent of the delightful associations of the season at which I write, and that most of your readers will be ever ready to exclaim in the gallant strain of the sweet Irish Bard,

Oh woman! whose form and whose soul
Are the spell and the light of each path we pursue!
Whether sunn'd in the tropics, or chill'd at the pole,
If woman be there, there is happiness too!

What I have written in this first number of my Dissertation, has reference principally to what may be termed the sentimental portion of our nature. I must therefore beg of your readers, to suspend all judgment as to the partiality or impartiality of the execution, until I have drawn the whole picture. I am yet to compare the sexes together, in relation to the intellectual powers.

I am, sir, with high respect,
Your obedient servant,
Z. X. W.

May 12, 1835.