THE CAPTIVE INDIAN CHIEF,
Sullenly, yet proudly, firm the captive stood!
And on his persecutors cast an eye

That beam'd insufferably bright-it seem'd
To say-tyrants, behold-I'm in your power-
But mark-I sue not for your mercy-no!
My spirit yet is unsubdued; my soul

Is free-this hardy frame is used to toil,

And will not shrink from torture, or from death!
No shriek of mine shall feast your savage hearts,
In even nature's deepest agony!

Your cruelty shall not extort one groan,
To tell ye this poor frame is made of clay.
Like the tali oak amid the forest trees,
He stood in all the majesty of pride-
A cloud was gather'd on his ample brow,
While his compress'd lips and widen'd nostril,
Spoke strongly of the spirit's mastery!

The death pile was prepar'd-but struck with awe
At his high bearing, his foes shrunk from him-
Scathed as it were, beneath his light'ning glance!
All but their noble leader-and he stood
With his keen eagle eye fix'd on the chief!
(There's a communion between brave men's souls,)
The victor paus'd-then grasp'd the hand
Of his indignant captive! while he struck
From his Herculean limbs, vile slavery's chains!

It was a noble deed-the chief was free!
The first expression of his thanks came low
And broken as the lispings of a babe-
But soon, the tide of gratitude rush'd o'er

His soul! and then, he wept-he whose stern eye
Till now, had never glisten'd with a tear!

And bending on his knee, that ne'er before

Had bow'd but to his God! he kiss'd the hand

That reft his chain, and pointing to the cloud capp'd cliffs afar, With bounding step he sought his mountain home.

Selected Poetry.

FROM THE BACHELORS' JOURNAL.

PAST AND FUTURE.

Who lives, but oft has turned his truant glance,
Along life's sunless ocean, he hath passed?
Review'd the terrors of that drear expanse,
The rock, the whirlpool, or the wint'ry blast?
How few the joys that danced upon its flood,
How dim of happiness the transient rays,
How thick the shallows of ingratitude,
The faithful chart of memory pourtrays.

But

yet in boyhood's hour, the scene seem'd bright, And joys and honors waited manhood's prime; Fancy unroll'd a field of rich delight,

Which Hope had pencil'd on the scroll of Time.

ROMONT.

But manhood's prime has come-the mist oi wut,
Rests where the vision promised bliss and fame;
Where flowers were look'd for, tides of sorrow flow,
And nought remains of pleasure, but the name.
Still floats this fancied Eden down life's stream,
And still its cheated followers pursue;
Still Fancy's fingers weave the sleepless dream,
To please, entice, and then deceive anew.
Where beams a prospect truth herself can praise,
Without assuming Guilt's deluding wile?
Where shall frail man direct his searching gaze,
When Love, and Hope, and Friendship all beguile.
There is a clime which prophets have foretold,
Than light more pure, than Eden's land more fair;
The narrow gates of death its stores unfold,
To give an endless day of pleasure there.

FROM THE BALTIMORE EMERALD.

TO A LADY....BY RUFUS DAWES, ESQ.

I've listen'd at eve, by a tranquil lake,

To the sweetest song that love could wake,

When the moon shone down through her blue serene,
To silver the leaves of the woodland green.

I've listen'd at morn, when the west wind came,

To cool the rose's blush of shame;

When the nightingale's voice thro' the tangled rees,
Gladdened the bosom with ecstasies.

But ah, when I heard thy eloquent lay,

It drove ev'ry charm of their music away,
And I thought some spirit had left the spheres,
To soothe our sorrow and dry our tears.

Thy lay was like the Æolian Lyre's

When an angel breathes o'er its silken wires;
For memory slept with the rising strain,
In a dream of bliss till it ceased again.

HENRY.

LILLA

With youthful fancy, or with matron taste,
'We cull the meadow, and explore the waste,'-Paine.
The brightest flowers, the purest gems to save,
From the dark bosom of oblivion's wave.

THE EXILE OF THE ALLEGHANY.

We hope for the honor of our country, that the following authentic Tale, exhibits a solitary instance of National ingrat

velling in Pennsylvania. When I Musing on this theme, and fareached the base of the Alleghanies, tigued with the toils of the day, I I left my horse in the charge of a sunk into a reverie. The forest peasant, and ascended on foot. I storm was now raging without in climbed ridge after ridge, braced all its destructive violence, which, by the pure air, and excited by the added to the loneliness and desoincreasing majesty of the scenery, lation of the spot, produced a feuntil I wholly forgot the flight of verish excitement of mind that hours and my remoteness from the encouraged wild and fantastie inhabitants beneath. When I at-ideas. Shade after shade flitted tained the summit, the day was across the dream of my imaginafast waning, and the rising wind tion, and I could hear in the howmoaning through the defiles of the lings of the gale, the cry of distress hills and shaking the bare branches and the shout of rapine. All the of the trees, warned me of a vague apprehensions of an overcoming storm. I immediately be- heated fancy came crowding and gan to descend, in the vain hope pressing on my heart, and although of reaching the foot of the moun- reason struggled for the mastery, tain before night fall. Darkness yet she could not overcome them. had already gathered in the east-While thus wrapped in a waking ern vallies, and the last ray of dream, with my eyes bent downlight was beaming on the western wards, a shadow like form of a ridge when I observed a rude cab-man suddenly darkened the floor: 1 in, sheltered beneath the branches sprang hastily upon my feet, and of a hemlock. I approached and the action recalled my scattered raised the latch of the door, which senses. A man coarsely clad, but of was not barred, although on my a majestic and venerable bearing, entrance I perceived the room to stood before me. In one hand he be unoccupied. The desertion, held a hunting-gun and in the other however, seemed only temporary, some forest game, which, little as as a few embers were decaying on it was, seemed a heavy burden to the hearth. I threw some pieces his aged frame. 'A stranger in my of wood on the brands, and seated cabin,' he exclaimed, in tone of surmyself on a rough bench, began prise, but not of apprehension. 'A by the dim and imperfect light to stranger,' said I, 'who is in need of scan the apartment. All around hospitality.' A slight flush apparme spoke of barrenness and desti-ently of pain rose to his cheek as he tution; it seemed the very temple of poverty where she had gathered all the symbols of her worship. 'What miserable outcast,' thought I, 'can be the tenant of so comfortless a habitation? What could have impelled the most povertystricken wretch to abandon the crowds of life, where the overflowings of the rich man's table may find their way to the poor man's board, and to dwell in this mountain solitude, whither the footsteps of charity cannot pursue him? Is it crime, is it pride, or is it misanthropy?'

replied, 'If a seat by my hearth-fire and a repast of mountain game, deserve the name of hospitality, you shall freely share them; they are all it is in my power to offer. With these words, he laid aside his burthen, and divesting himself of his outward garments, kindled a light, and sat down by the fire. I had now an opportunity of studying his appearance more narrowly; it was remarkable and interesting. His form was tall and graceful, though bent with years; his forehead high and bold, and his temples partially covered with locks that rivalled

winter in whiteness. His clear Listen to my words, and if while I grey eye had a military quickness speak, your voice should break in its motion, and seemed as if it forth in curses upon injury and inshould belong to one who had gratitude, remember that I curse watched the movements of armed not, but forgive.-You ask what bands rather than the flight of the has made me an exile from life, forest bird, or the bounds of the and a tenant of this wild spot; my forest deer. His face had that answer is, the ingratitude of others educated expression which invari- and my own just pride. Could I ably characterizes the cultivated have tamed my own high spirit, man, and that well-bred aspect to bear insulting pity and scornful which can only be obtained by charity, I would never have forhabitual intercourse with polished saken the haunts of men, but I society. Struck by the incongru- prefer the savage independence of ity between such a man and such a mountain hunter to the polished a habitation, I determined to learn servitude of a courtly parasite. if possible, the cause of his situa-You will understand the reason tion and the history of his life. of my exile from the events of my life:

With this design, after our frugal repast was ended, and conver- 'Young stranger, you see besation had inspired mutual confi- fore you one whose name once dence, I ventured to touch the sounded far and wide across the string. The character of his mind fields of America; one, whose banas it became developed, and the ner your fathers followed to batstyle of his remarks had awaken- tle forty years ago; one who 'afed an intense interest, which I terwards presided in the councils had neither the power nor the de- of your nation, and whose head sign to conceal. I was confident was raised high among the great that I was in the presence of no ones of the land. In the tenant ordinary man. 'How happens it,' of this wretched hut you behold a I said that you have chosen this man of lofty ancestry and once solitude, so bare and so comfort-princely fortune; the last of a less, for the asylum of your age? time-honored family, on which the Methinks that splendid mansions cloud of misfortune has settled and courtly society might claim, darkly and forever. What boots and proudly too, a form and mind it that I should tell you that years like yours for an inmate and an and years ago, long ere the freeornament. What can have driv-dom of America was yet in emen you across the circle that en-bryo, the name which I bear was closes social life, to this solitary abode?' 'Young man,' the stranger replied, it is but a common tale, and why should I obscure the fair light of youthful feeling with the shadows of aged suffering? My tale is one which, when told, will leave a dark remembrance, that will hang like a cloud on your brightest and happiest hours. It is one which I shall tell in sadness, not in wrath, but which you will hear with feelings swelled by both.

made famous by my gallant ancestors on fields where the British Lion waved bloodily and triumphantly-that the war-cry of our family was the loudest in the conflict, and its flag foremost in the charge of the brave? To the young and untamed spirit, such recollections are like the rays of morning which herald a glorious and shining day; but on the old and withered heart they fall like sunset beams, fraught with memory but not with expectation. But,