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- If the devout and exemplary Mussulman, who dying fast in the faith of
his Prophet, anticipates reclining on beds of roses, gloriously drunk
through all the ages of eternity, is to be waited on by Houris such as
these: waft me, ye gentle gales, beyond this lower world and,
‘Lap me in soft Lydian airs!’
But I am falling into I know not what extravagances, so I will briefly
give you a portrait of the last of these three divinities, and will then
terminate my tiresome lucubrations.
This last is a Lilliputian beauty; diminutive in stature, fair-haired,
and with a foot for which Cinderella’s slipper would be too large; a
countenance sweet and interesting, and in her manners eminently refined
and engaging. The cast of her physiognomy is singularly mild and
amiable, and her whole person is replete with every feminine grace. Her
eyes
‘Effuse the mildness of their azure beam;’
and to her, above all her sex, are applicable the lines of our gentle
Coleridge:--
‘Maid of my Love, sweet ⸻
In Beauty’s light you glide along:
Your eye is like the star of eve,
And sweet your Voice as Seraph’s song.
Yet not your heavenly Beauty gives
This heart with passion soft to glow:
Within your soul a Voice there lives!
It bids you hear the tale of Woe.
When sinking low the Sufferer wan
Beholds no hand outstretched to save,
Fair as the bosom of the Swan
That rises graceful o’er the wave,
I’ve seen your breast with pity heave,
And therefore love I you, sweet ⸻.’
Here, my dear M----, closes this catalogue of the Graces, this chapter
of Beauties, and I should implore your pardon for trespassing so long on
your attention. If you, yourself, in whose breast may possibly be
extinguished the amatory flame, should not feel an interest in these
three ‘counterfeit presentments,’ do not fail to show them to ⸻, and
solicit her opinion as to their respective merits.
Tender my best acknowledgments to the Major for his prompt attention to
my request, and, for yourself, accept the assurance of my undiminished
regard; and hoping that the smiles of heaven may continue to illuminate
your way,--I remain, ever yours,
L. A. V.
Written in long hand (by Melville) across the inner margin:--
‘When I woke up this morning, what the devil should I see but your cane
along in bed with me. I shall keep it for you when you come up here
again.’
FRAGMENTS FROM A WRITING-DESK
No. 2
LANSINGBURGH, N.Y.,
_Saturday, May 18, 1839_.
- title
- Letter from L. A. V.