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LONGINGS.

BY J. A. SWAN.

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WE will be strong, whatever fate hang o'er us,
In noble purpose and in truth confide;
And when heart-joys ebb mournfully before us,
Will wait with patience the returning tide.

We will be strong, nor in the night of sorrow
Be bowed to earth, as hoping no relief;
There is no night but it shall have a morrow,
And joys may penetrate the depths of grief.

We sigh for truer sympathy; we weary

Of formal friends, whose hearts beat not with ours: Beneath their look the world seems dull and dreary ; Cold are its hills and leafless are its bowers.

We would be loved with pure and fond affection,
Which knows no shade of change and fears for naught;
And when alone, would love the recollection

That kindly ones are with us still in thought.

Would have one bosom, in whose deep recesses

The thoughts we long to speak may garnered be;
The holy secrets which the heart confesses,
Then only, when it loves most tenderly.

The soul should tell its wants, its aspirations,
That it may hear some sympathetic tone;
We gain redoubled strength by these vibrations
Of thoughts which are, and yet are not, our own.

Bright scenes of beauty, with their mute appealings,
Invite us to put on their happy mood;

But sadly beautiful are such revealings
To him who worships them in solitude.

Perchance it may not be; the things we cherish
Like shadows may appear, then pass away;
We will not droop, though all our best hopes perish,
But wait the dawning of a brighter day.

The bitter waters with the sweet are flowing;
The snake that stings bears yet an antidote ;
Beside the poison tree a balm is growing,
Where there is wrong, right will not be remote.

We will be strong; will calm the heart's emotion
With thoughts of high emprise and valorous strife;
If what we long for may not be our portion,

Our longings still will lead to nobler life.

Then, Soul! be brave; thou hast thy place and station;
Thou hast thy task to do, thy prize to win;

And be thy thought, that this sublime creation
Is more sublime, that thou hast lived therein.

Cambridge, June, 1849.

INTERIOR GEORGIA LIFE AND SCENERY.

BY A SOUTHERN TRAVELLER.

MOUNTED on horseback, with coarse leggings and a heavy blanket to protect me from the weather, saddle-bags filled with clothing and provisions, and armed (as is the custom of those who travel in this section of the country) with pistol and bowie-knife, I set off alone to wander for a few days among the mountains of Georgia, filled with high anticipations of a pleasant and novel excursion.

The first day of my journey was mild and pleasant; unusually so, for January. My road lay along a bold ridge, which sloped in some places gently, now abruptly off on either side, leaving me a commanding view of the surrounding country, dull and uninteresting though it was, seeming like an almost interminable forest. Here and there in the distance might be seen the light blue smoke curling gracefully upward from some 'settler's cabin,' or a denser, gloomier mass, rising from the black and charred trunks of an hundred trees; still farther in the distance, bordering on the horizon's edge and rising in bold relief against the sky, the lofty snow-capped summits of the Blue Ridge' appear..

The slumbering echoes of the forest were occasionally awakened by the solitary fall of some shattered trunk, whose noble frame had long resisted the inroads of disease and decay; but now falls with dull and gloomy sound, to rouse the traveller from his reveries, and tell its tale of passing away.'

·

Toward evening I overtook a man, who from his dress, a homespun suit, mud-color, and a broad-brimmed wool hat, I took to be a 'native.' We jogged along together, and in half an hour I knew him well with the frankness and confidence of a southerner, he had, unasked, told me his whole history. He frankly acknowledged that he could neither read nor write; which by the way is no uncommon thing in Georgia, even among people of considerable wealth. And his greatest pride seemed to be his 'faculty for a horse swap :' in this he considered himself par excellence, to use his own expression, 'right smart.' Yes, and he strode a 'right smart chance of a critter,' that could n't be beat in 'them diggins,' if you'd believe him.

Having ridden ninety miles, over an exceedingly rough road, and through a monotonous country, stopping the first night in Gainsville, the second in Clarksville, I arrived on the morning of the third day at Toccoa Falls, twelve miles from Clarksville.

The meaning of this sweet Indian word, Toccoa,' is beautiful.' As there is no house in the vicinity of these falls, I hitched my horse to a tree by the road-side, and strolling off by a little foot-path which led to the right, I was soon on the brink of the precipice. Quietly and placidly glides on, through its many mountain windings, this 'beautiful' river until it reaches the edge of the precipice; then plunging headlong, one hundred and eighty-six feet to the depth below, gathers its scattered waters, which, long ere they reach the bottom of the fall, come dancing, sparkling down in innumerable spray drops, again flows gracefully on, to mingle its silvery waters with larger and nobler streams.

In summer, Toccoa' must indeed be a beautiful' spot, when every thing around is fresh and green; when flowers, of which there is here a wild profusion, and in full bloom, and birds are warbling their sweetest melodies.

Many are the legends related in connection with this place, among which is the following: In days long since numbered among the 'things that were,' when the Indians were the sole inhabitants of this region of country, a fierce old crone had been set to guard a score of prisoners from a neighboring tribe, until they could be taken out to torture; hearing, while her people were at war in another direction, that the tribe of the prisoners was coming to their rescue, she promised to release them on certain conditions; so, unloosing their feet, but keeping them bound together by the hands, and blindfolded, she led them through a night of darkness and a storm of lightning, thunder and rain, to the edge of this fall; then stepping suddenly and noiselessly aside, the first of the prisoners fell over, and being bound all together by the hands, one by one they were all dragged after him, and dashed to pieces on the rocks below.

The old hag, smiling exultingly at the success of her scheme, returned through the raging elements to her solitary wigwam.

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After viewing from many points the various beauties of this place, I again mounted my steed, and was soon on my way to Tallula,' fifteen miles distant. It was nearly all up-hill work, and the road being uneven, my progress was necessarily slow, so that when I reached the summit of the mountain, a place well known as the 'Ocean View,' the sun was fast declining behind the hills.

I had been riding slowly, almost thoughtlessly, along, little dreaming of seeing any thing interesting; when suddenly, as if by magic, the whole of this magnificent Ocean View' burst upon my vision so unexpectedly that for a moment I was overwhelmed. I could not believe that other than Alpine scenery could be so charmingly grand. Below and far, far around me, was one vast sea of waving pines: beautiful wreaths of smoke were seen curling up in every direction; and still beyond, 'peak on peak and Alps on Alps' arose, each rising against the other with the distinctness and regularity of the billows

of the sea; their snow-capped summits, seen far as the eye could reach, were the almost perfect resemblance of the foam-crested waves of old ocean.

This is doubtless the finest view of mountain scenery in the United States. Ilingered here long after the sun had departed, till the mountains were obscured by the thickening shades of evening, and then hastened on to find lodgings for the night. A ride of a mile brought me to a log-cabin, the only house near the falls.

I was soon quite at home in my new and humble habitation, sitting before a blazing lightwood fire, conversing familiarly with mine host: around us were playing four bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked little children, whose names, Tallula, Magnolia, Rolla and Cherubusco, well bespoke the eccentricity of the father. Think for a moment, reader of Cherubusco Beale! I told the father that it was wicked to impose such a name upon his child. He replied : 'What's in a name?'

After partaking heartily of a venison supper, (which no one can cook superior to Mrs. Beale,) and drinking a gourd of water, feeling fatigued by the day's exposure, I asked where I was to sleep. They led me into an unoccupied part of the house, and up into the second loft, reached only by a ladder. I did not like its open-work looks, for the night was bitter cold, but as my only alternative was this or nothing, I wrapped myself up in my blanket, piled the bed-clothes over me a foot high, and tried to find the soft side of a corn-shuck mattress. Lulled by the roar of the distant cataract, I strove to sleep, but strove in vain. I tried to forget my woes by counting the stars which glistened through the many cracks in the roof; but through those same cracks the wind, cold and chilling, came whistling through two holes, cut to let in the light, in which there was no sign of glass. Shivering, shaking, was my song during the whole long night, and happy was I when morning dawned.

After bathing in the pure waters of a spring, and partaking of a well-cooked breakfast, I strolled off, accompanied by Mr. Beale as a guide, to see the falls.

If Toccoa is beautiful, Tallula is truly 'terrible;' the signification of Terrora, the river which forms these falls. Here nature has lavished her beauties in the greatest profusion; exhibiting them in every conceivable form of loveliness and sublimity, entrancing the gaze of the astonished beholder, and overwhelming him with amazement and awe. There is a solemn grandeur, an unspeakable sublimity, in the scene, an overpowering of the senses, as one stands on the Devil's Pulpit,' a point of rock which projects over the awful chasm, and gazes far, far down into the yawning abyss directly beneath him, that must be felt to be truly appreciated in its terror and wildness.

Picture to yourself an immense mountain of granite, a thousand feet high burst asunder to its very base by some powerful action in nature; and through the gorge thus formed let the Terrible' pour its rushing waters foaming and furious over the 'Lodore' cascade, the first and smallest of the five, then gaining force as it dashes on, leaps wildly over Tempesta, Oceanna, Horricon and Serpentine successively, till finally lost to view among the mountain sweeps, its

course is onward, till it reaches that grand receptacle of waters, the broad blue ocean. Such is Tallula.

It was a mild and sunny morning when I visited these falls: the night, however, had been exceedingly cold, and the spray, which is continually rising from the different cascades, was frozen to every shrub and vine which beautify the many crevices of this mountain barrier. The perpendicular portion of the granite wall, encased in ice, reflected the rays of morning sunlight like the clearest mirror. Myriads of diamond drops seemed hanging from every bush, while the mountain rills, melted into life by the increasing warmth of the sun as it neared the meridian, noiselessly winding their way down the steep and rugged sides, might well have taken the name of Horricon, or in the more beautiful language of the Indian, 'silver waters.'

The grandeur of Tallula is even greater in winter than in summer. The volume of water is greatly enhanced by the winter rains, and although deprived of the beauty of its many flowers, yet the foliage of the principal trees, pine, holly, and mountain-laurel, is evergreen, and the splendor of its icicles 'lends enchantment to the view.'

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From the Devil's Reading Desk, a point of rock below the 'Pulpit,' a fine view is obtained of three cascades: owing to the serpentine course of the river no more than three cascades can be seen from the same point. Looking even for a short time only from either of these points produces dizziness. An anecdote is related of Judge L who, while looking over the edge, became overpowered, and turning quickly back, grasped a tree with both arms, exclaiming: ‘Thank GOD, I'm safe!' Mr. Beale, with his accustomed veracity, says the tree has since died, doubtless the effects of the hugging the Judge gave it. Another is related of General C- who in company with some friends, was viewing the falls from this place; he also became dizzy: 'brain reeled and eye grew dim;' and in turning hastily from the spot, impressed with the danger of his position, he beheld his servant, a negro, about an hundred yards from the bank, entirely out of all danger, grasping a large tree with both arms. 'There,' said General C is the only sensible man among us.' Thus must end my feeble and insipid description of Tallula, a place which ought to be visited by all lovers of the beautiful and grand in nature; a place only equalled in interest in America by Niagara and the Mammoth Cave. The poet can here find never ending themes for song; the artist an ever-changing scene to task his pencil; but both fail to convey to the mind a correct idea of its wildness and grandeur.

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It was morning when I left Tallula, and before nightfall I had ridden thirty miles. No pleasant villages, with neat white cottages and ornamented gardens, so many of which one sees in a day's ride through New-England, greeted my vision; but the log-cabins of the 'squatters' scattered here and there, with an occasional frame-house of the rudest construction, were seen.

Sometimes two

I met no one walking: all ride, however poor. are seen on the same animal; a man and woman, perhaps, on one poor doleful-looking mule, or on some antiquated horse, more cadaverous-looking than themselves. I met also large wagons, canvass

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