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ORIGINAL PROSE ARTICLES.
1. Iphigenia at Tauris. A Dramatic Poem-in Five 14. Moonlight Musings, by E. B. Hale..
76 Acts. (Continued.)... 65 | 15. Early Lays.....
.79 2. Classical Studies, by A. J.C. of Richmond, Va....70 16. The Parents' Lament, over their Child, Louisa 3. My Daughter's Portrait.. 73 Overton
.85 4. Interesting Relics....
.78 17. Lines by a Father on the Death of a Child. Ad. 5. Superstitions of the Maltese People, by Wm. W.
dressed to the Mother.......
.88 Andrews, U. S. Consul at Malta.....
.81 18. The Irish Exile, by Thomas Dunn English.. ..88 6. Notos on our Army-No. I. Addressed to the 19. The Burial of Eros, by Henry B. Hirst...
92 Hon. Thomas H. Bonton...
.86 20. The Surrender. A Sonnet... 7. The Enchanted Gifts, by Mrs. Jane L. Swift.. 89 21. To My Mother, by Mrs. Maria G. Buchanan. .103 8. Letters from Gibralter. Translated from the 22. Goodness....
.93 23. 'The Crusader's Return, by D. H. Robinson.. 100 9. Notes on Coba. .96 24. Give Me a Talisman of Love...
114 10. Shelley. Extract from a Lecture on tbe “Genius
EDITOR'S TABLE. of Shelley,” by T. H. Chivres, M. D............104 25. A Word to Every Subscriber.' We call particu11. The Influence of the Fine Arts on the Moral Sen
lar attention to this........ sibilities, by Rev. J. N. Danforth, Alexandria..... 109
121 12. A Passage in the Life of Edward Moreland. A
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27. Mr. Everett and Prince Albert.
.122 114 28. National Institute, John Randolph, &c.
122 ORIGINAL POETRY. 29. Cheap Publications....
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72 See several important Notices on the Cover.
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RICHMOND, FEBRUARY, 1844.
When, musing e'er the fire, sad Electra
Sat solitary in the large old hall,
I anxiously have climbed into her lap,
And stared with wondering eyes upon her tears.
Then of our noble father would she speak
Now wished myself at Troy, now him at home.
Then came the hour-
O let that be a theme
For nightly converse among hellish ghosts :
We, from the memory of brighter days, Orestes. We tread the path of Death, and at each step Must gather strength for new heroic effort. My soal is more composed. When to Apollo
The Gods have use for good men here on earth, I prayed, to free me from the avenging fiends
To do their will, and still they count on thee, That ever dogged my steps, he seemed to promise,
Nor gave thee as companion to thy Father, That, in the temple of bis much loved sister,
When he reluctantly went down to Orcus. Who roles o'er Tauris, I should find assistance
Orestes. O! bad I caught his hem and followed him. And rehef. This plighted God's word
Pylades. Much cause have I to thank the hand that So full of hope, is sure of its fulfilment,
saved thee; For, with my lise, my sufferings soon will end.
For what were I without thee, since with thee, Beautiful Sun! how easy to resign
And for thy sake alone, from infancy, Thy light, to one whose heart the hand of God
I've wished to live. Has crushed to numbness. If no laurelled death,
Remind me not, I pray thee, The price of glorious victory awaits
or those bright days, when, in thy father's house, The sons of Atreus-if, like my brave father,
I found a refuge, where his prudent care Like all my ancestors, it be my doom
Tenderly nursed the bruised and blighted blossom, To die a bloody death, so let it be."
While thou, forever gay and light of heart, Beuter to bleed before the altar here
Sporting around me like a butterfly Than in a corner, by the assassin hand
O'er a dark flower hovering, to my soul Of a pear kinsman. Fiends of Tartarus,
Imparted the glad cheerfulness of thine, Who dog my steps, while yet I walk the earth,
Till I, forgetful of my fate, and swayed And, like the sleuth-bound, snuff the blood that marks them, By youthful sympathy, would lose myself Let me alone! soon I go down to you.
In dreams enthusiastic. The light of day no more shall be polluted
It was then By sigbt of you or me; nor earth's green carpet
My lise began-then when I first loved thee. Be stained by Demon feel. There, in your den,
Orestes. More truly say that then thy griefs began. 11 seek you out; there, where one equal fate
Horrible fate! That I, thus plague-infected Shall seal as all in everlasting night.
And driven from society, must bear Thee, Pylades, companion of my crime,
Anguish and death to others in my bosom. Thongh innocent, thee, partner of my doom! .
Go where I will, tho' all before was health, 1 grieve to bear thee to that mournful land,
The blooming cheek grows pale at my approach Catimely snatched away. Thy life or death
And wears the marks of death, certain tho' slow. Alone awakens hope or sear in me.
Pylades. Were poison in thy breaih, Orestes, I Pylades. Not yet, like thee, Orestes, am I ready Should be the first to perish ; but thou seest me The abode of Ghosts to visit. Still I hope,
Still full of cheerful confidence and courage ; Among the langled paths tbat seem to tend
And Love and Confidence are wings that bear All downward to black night, to find a way
To great achievements. That leads to life again. Of death I think not.
Great achievements! Yes, I wait the pleasure of the Gods, and hope,
The time has been when we to such looked forward, That they will yet provide a glad escape.
When we on mount and vale pursued our prey, Death, whether feared or no, comes when he will;
And hoped to see the day, when rivalling But when, to sever our devoted locks,
The courage and the prowess of our fathers, The Priestess lifts her hand, I still shall think
We too, with club and sword, might hunt the monster, Oaly of thine and my deliverance. Rouse
Or track the robber to his cave, and then The soul front this despondency. Our danger
When, leaning on each other, we would sit habet increased by doubt. Did not Apollo
At evening, looking out o'er the broad sea, Plight thee his word, that in bis Sister's Temple
The rippling wave breaking against our feet, -solace-safe return were all prepared ?
And all the world spread out before our eyes : The words of Gods are not ambiguous,
Then would we grasp the sword, and deeds of glory Thagti thas the afflicted and desponding deem.
Throngh the dark future glittered like the stars Orestes. The web of destiny my mother spread Whose countless host spangled the night's black brow. Ore my infant head, and as I grew
Pylades. The work the soul proposes to herself lalkeness to my father, tho' I spoke not,
Is infinite, still burning to achieve Vis presence to her paramour and her
Deeds of such splendor, as at once may rival
The glories which are still the poet's theme,
Echoed through distant lands and distant ages.
And on yourself the Furies' office lake. How sweet, at evening, with the harp's full tone
Compose yourself, and leave to me the task To drink the strains that tell our father's deeds!
of thinking for us both : then when the hour How poor and paltry, when compared with these, or action comes, when we must move in concert, Is all we can achieve! And so we chase
I call on thee, and we advance together A shadowy phantom that still flies before us,
With well considered boldness to our purpose. And thus, unmindful of the path we tread,
Orestes. Surely it is Ulysses speaks. We see not that it is the self-same path
Nay, mock not. That still the traces of their footsteps bears.
Each one must choose a hero to his taste, In the far distance, o'er the mountain tops,
Whose footsteps, up the steeps of high Olympus Floating on golden clouds, we see their shadows,
He toils to follow. Let me frankly own, And these, our fancy's creatures, we pursue.
That, in my view, bold deeds are not disgraced I cannot deem him wise, whose only thought
By being joined with prudent weariuess. Is how he best may win the applause of men,
Orestes. I deem him brave, who goes straight to his aim. And thou hast cause to thank the Gods that they
Pylades. And therefore have I not consulted with thee Already have achieved so much through thee.
In the step I've taken. From our guards I learn,
Restrains the bloody law, her only offerings
Incense, and prayer, and a pure heart. They praise While enemies before him fall or fly.
Her gentleness, and think her of the race, Me they have made their butcher, and the blood
Of Amazons, from dire misfortune flying.. of a still honored mother stains my hand,
Orestes. It seems her light sway now has lost its power. A deed accursed accursedly avenging.
The criminal, who bears upon his brow This was their work, and this has been my ruin.
A.curse as broad as night, no sooner comes Trust me, against the house of Tantalus
Than pious blood-thirst straight to our destruction Their hate is fixed, and I, the last, am doomed
Strikes off the setter from the ancient custom, To die a guilty and dishonored death.
No woman now could sway the tyrants mood, Pylades. The Gods do not avenge upon the Son
Pylades. 'Well for us 'tis a Woman: for a. ManThe misdeeds of the Father. Good or bad,
The best among them, --quickly trains bis mind Each the reward of his own acts receives.
To cruelty, and makes at last a law. The Parent's blessing, not his curse, descends
Of that he once detested. Constant Woman Upon his race.
Çlings to the purpose she has once conceived,
Have blessings brought us hither? Sied last for good or ill--but most for good.
Pylades. Do thou their bidding, and await their will. Or trust her with our fate. But step aside,
And shun her,-'ull I speak with you again.
Iphigenia. What and whence art thou, stranger? To my Orestes. Then I may hope at least a quiet death.
eye Pylades. Quite different, and not I think unskilful Thy aspect speaks thee rather Greek than Scythian. [She Has been my augury of the event
takes off his chains.] From that which is and has been. Who can say
I give thee dangerous freedom. May the Gods That in the councils of the Gods this work,
Avert the dreadful doom that threatens thee! Long since decreed, is not now ripening.
Pylades. Sweet voice! O! welcome sound! My mother Diana longs to leave this rugged shore,
tongue The rude barbarians and their human victims.
Spoke in a foreign land, at once recalling We to this noble deed have been appointed,
My home's blue mountains to my captive eye. On us it is imposed, and here we see
Oh! Let my manifest delight assure thee That force conducts us to the enterprise.
That I too am a Greek; for while my spirit Orestes. How happily dost thou accommodate
Dwelt on thy beauteous aspect, I forgot To thine own wish the counsels of the Gods !
My helpless wretchedness. Unless some spell Pylades. What is Man's prudence, is it listens not, Has sealed thy lips, then tell me, I beseech thee, With' heedful ear, to aught tbat indicates
The stem whence thou thy godlike lineage drawest. 'The will of those above? They call the hero,
Iphigenia. “A Priestess, chosen by the Goddess self, Whose hand is stained with crime, to expiate
And consecrated by herself, speaks to thee. His guilt by high achievement. Things that seem Let this suffice thee. Say now who thou art, Impossible are set before him. He succeeds,
And what unhappy fate has brought thee hither And hy his penance serves both Gods and Men
Together with thy friend, Who honor him.
The task is easy Orestes. 'If 'tis my destiny
To tell the dire evil that pursues us. Again to live and act, then from my brow
Oh! that thou couldst to us;-Oh! beavenly maid, I pray some God to take the dizzy spell,
The light of hope as easily impart. That onward to the dead urges my feet,
We come from Crete. Adrastus is our father. ; Along-a path slippery with Mother's blood;
My name is Cephalus-his youngest son, The fount, that, gushing from a Mother's wounds,
And he, the oldest hope of our house Still pours its sirains upon me, let him dry..
13 called Laodamas. Between us stood Pylades. Be not impatient." You increase the evil, Another wild and rude, who in the sports
of Childhood (the cement of brother's love)
Opposed the sailing of the Greeks from Aulis Already stood aloof. While yet my Father
By adverse winds. To Aulis then he lures her Fought before Troy, we all obeyed our mother;
With Iphigenia her oldest daughter, But after his return, laden with spoils,
Who, at the altar of Diana fell
A bleeding victim for the weal of Greece.
A hate so deadly, that Ægystheus' suit
Was well received, and she herself entangled The Furies now with fiery rage pursue.
Her Husband in the snare of deathIphigenia. Is Troy then fallen? Stranger tell me truly. Iphigenia.
Enough. Pylades. 'Tis fallen. Oh! assure us of escape.
We meet again. [She veils herself and withdraws.] Accelerate the aid a God has promised.
She is indeed much moved Have pity on my brother. One kind word
By the misfortunes of this royal honse. I earnestly entreat you to vouchsafe bim.
Whoe'er she be, she surely knew the King, Shaken by Memory, or Joy, or Pain,
And, happily for us, she has been sold His inmost soul is presently assailed
Out of some noble house and bither sent. By leverish insanity, which gives
Be still my heart, and let us prudently His beauteous mind a victim to the Furies.
And cheerfully pursue the leading star Iphigenia. Severe thy fate. But for a while forget it, Kindled by Hope to light us on our way. Till you have told me what I long to learn.
Pylades. The lofty City, which, for ten long years
ACT III.-SCENE 1.
Iphigenia. Unhappy Man! I loose thy bonds, a sign There lies Achilles, with his handsome friend.
Of a more wretched fate. The Sanctuary Iphigenia. Ye godlike images !-Are ye but dust? Gires liberty, which, like the flickering ray Pylades. And Palamedes-Telamonjan Ajax,
That lights the last glance of the sick man's eye, These too their native country saw no more.
Is but the messenger of Death. As yet Iphigenia. He speaks not of my father: names him not I can not, dare not, to myself admit Among the fallen. Still he lives me,
That you are lost. Can I with murderous hand
To death devole you ? And, while here I rule
Shall touch your heads. But if I should decline
The office which the angry King demands, New forms of terror, and, instead of triumph,
One of my maidens be at once will choose Death unexpected, waiting their return.
As my successor, and my burning wishes Does then the voice of Man ne'er reach you here, Will then be all that I can give to aid you, Teling, where'er it spreads, of horrid deeds
Dear Countryman; is the most abject slave Such as have filled Mycenæ's halls with mourning? Has touched the hearth of our paternal Gods, Is it still new to thee, that Clytemnestra
Here, in this foreign land, he were most welcome. Assisted by Ægystheus, slew her husband,
What blessings on thy head should I invoke, [pon tbe very day of his return ?
Who com'st in likeness of the god-like heroes, I see that thou dost reverence the race
Whose names ny parents taught me to revere, of this great King, and that thy breast in vain
Soothing and flattering my inmost heart Strizzles against the horror of my words.
With bright hopes kindled by the thought. Art thou the daughter of a friend ? Art thou
Or may I hope that she who meets me here,
In form a Goddess, will disclose herself?
Iphigenia. Thou shalt know me. But first explain to me Hos was it done?
That which thy brother has but half revealed; Pulades.
The day of his arrival, The cruel fate which at their threshold met Refreshed and rested, coming from the bath,
The Chiefs who from the fall of Troy returned. Froso bis wise's hand the King bis garment asked, Tho' young when bither brought, I well remember When sbe a tangled web of many folds
The shrinking eye with which, in awe and wonder, Over his noble head and shoulders threw;
| gazed upon those heroes. As they moved, And as be vainly strove to disengage
It was as if Olympus had sent down Himself therefrom, the traitorous Ægystheus
The forms of ancient glory to affright Suded him; dismissing to the realm of death,
The towers of llion: and among them there Wib selled head, this mighty prince.
Stood Agamemnon, lordly above all. Iphigenia.
Oh! tell me. Entering his house, he fell Wui recompense rewarded the accomplice.
By treason of Ægystheus and his wife? Poldes. A Crown and Bed that were already his. Orestes. Thou sayest it. lyrugenia. Then 'twas vile lust that caused the mon Iphigenia.
Poor Mycenæ! Wo to thee! strous deed.
And thus the wild hands of the race of Tantalus Py'sdes. That and a cherished sense of old resentment. Have scattered curse on curse; and like the weed, Iphigenia. How had the King offended ?
Shaking its withered head, have strewed around Pulada
By a deed
Innumerable seeds, from which have sprung Wlien, could such murder ever be excused,
Kindred assassins for their childrens' children, egne have excused it. It was when a Goddess And mutual hate implacable. Oh! tell me