Alexandria Advertiser And Commercial Intelligencer

FOR THE ALEXANDRIA ADVERTISER.

Messrs. Editors,

The following lines were written to a valuable friend, on the decease of a darling daughter. It may not be amiss to mention, that the character of ANNA, is one of the best of her sex. In exercising sympathy and benevolence, these finer feelings of the soul, perhaps she has but few equals, to which allusion is made. If, Gentlemen, you deem the composition worthy a place in your paper, it is at your service.

MIRA.

NAY, mourn not ANNA, as the world doth mourn.
Tho' death terrific, awful foe to man
Hath hover'd o'er your hospitable roof;
Nay, the threshold passed, and bore thy darling
Emily hence: a glorious privilege!
To thee is giv'n, by faith's firm eye to trace
Her immortal mind to mansions pure
Of bliss; those fields of light above, where
Thou, thrice happy thou, when a few
circling
Months are past, or transient years at most.
By blest assurance giv'n, look'st to arrive,
With thy lov'd bosom friend; thy partner now
In grief; thy stay, thy solace here, in bliss
Unutterable bliss, to live with him,
Who purchas'd both at goodly price, and paid
The ransom down! prompt payment. And
Oh that
Hope, too oft a flatterer here, may keep
her
Lamp well trim'd; nor let it wax more
dull
By ought that may impede thy progress
thro'
Our darkling vale of woe; but o'er thy
eve
Of life, scarce yet the noon, a ten fold
lustre
Shed and light thee hence; when death's
cold hand shall
Seal thy eyelids down; congeal life's purple
Stream; nay, even freeze thy heart to
coldest
Apathy. Ah! wonderous change indeed,
When it will feel no more! no ANNA no!
Tho' even misery's voice should call. Nor
Wonder that thy treasured secrets known,
For infant lips will lisp, what infant ears
Receive; and rest assur'd thy deeds are
wrote
On orphan hearts, that ne'er, no, never no-
Will th' impression lose, till memory's
self
Is lost.--Nor chide me ANNA, tho' I have
Transgrest, for hearts uncharged can ill
a secret
Keep; nor wilt thou term it flattery, ah no!
None would'st thou willing wrong, and
sure not me.
But oft! methinks, I hear thee now ex-
claim,
EMILY! my EMILY! my darling
EMILY art thou indeed gone! gone! gone
Forever! a beauteous flow'r untimely
Cropt. Never, oh my Emily! never
Shall I more behold thy infant charms,
Or hear the lisping on thy father's knee!
Ah no! that happy period's past, tho'
Late all gayly wrapt in smiles thou ran'st
All tottering to his arms, to welcome,
As it were, his usual return. Ah
Hapless change! He drooping now appears,
Unmet by thee, by thee unheard. Deep,
deep,
He mourns and needs the comfort that he
fain
Would give. But nought alas avails! in
death's
Cold chambers dost thou lie; bound down
with icy
Chains of adamant, in gloom, in darkness
Wrapt. But yet a hope exists to which my
Soul shall cling for sure support, a refuge
Gainst despair, tho' thou wilt ne'er re-
turn, ere
Long my Emily, we shall go to thee,
There, Anna, rest thy hope; a goodly
prop
Indeed. Thrice happy they, who firm in
faith,
Nor death, nor grave, nor future fear, in
vain
Will mundane griefs assail; the heart may
sorely
Pain, but not despair, tho' scalding tears
should
Furrow deep the cheek, and dim the eye,
when
Blest religion fortifies the soul,