had
bid farewell to the youth of deep feeling, and was not wending his way
to the dreaming spot of his fondness. The south winds whistled through
the woods, as the waters dashed against the banks, as rapid fire in the
pent furnace roars. This brought him to remember while alone, that he
quietly left behind the hospitality of a father's house, and gladly
entered the world, with higher hopes than are often realized. But as he
journeyed onward, he was mindful of the advice of his father, who had
often looked sadly on the ground when tears of cruelly deceived hope
moistened his eye. Elfonzo had been somewhat of a dutiful son; yet fond
of the amusements of life--had been in distant lands--had enjoyed the
pleasure of the world and had frequently returned to the scenes of
his boyhood, almost destitute of many of the comforts of life. In this
condition, he would frequently say to his father, "Have I offended you,
that you look upon me as a stranger, and frown upon me with stinging
looks? Will you not favor me with the sound of your voice? If I have
trampled upon your veneration, or have spread a humid veil of darkness
around your expectations, send me back into the world where no heart
beats for me--where the foot of man has never yet trod; but give me at
least one kind word--allow me to come into the presence sometimes of
thy winter-worn locks." "Forbid it, Heaven, that I should be angry with
thee," answered the father, "my son, and yet I send thee back to the
children of the world--to the cold charity of the combat, and to a
land of victory. I read another destiny in thy countenance--I learn
thy inclinations from the flame that has already kindled in my soul a
stranger sensation. It will seek thee, my dear ELFONZO, it will find
thee--thou canst not escape that lighted torch, which shall blot out
from the remembrance of men a long train of prophecies which they have
foretold against thee. I once thought not so. Once, I was blind; but now
the path of life is plain before me, and my sight is clear; yet Elfonzo,
return to thy worldly occupation--take again in thy hand that chord
of sweet sounds--struggle with the civilized world, and with your own
heart; fly swiftly to the enchanted ground--let the night-OWL send forth
its screams from the stubborn oak--let the sea sport upon the beach, and
the stars sing together; but learn of these, Elfonzo, thy doom, and thy
hiding-place. Our most innocent as well as our most lawful DESIRES mus