2826.) Letters from the United States of North America. 158 
much of her father’s power. Four years ago I was in Boston, and saw 
some excellent’ copies by her; and since that time she has become a 
‘professional portrait-painter.” 
» Krxe—Washington City; formerly a student of West's ; a very good 
portrait painter of remarkable industry ; and Inman, (a pupil of Jarvis 
‘a young man who bids very fair—Of these, and of several others, 
‘have no time to say a word more. 
Thave done with painters and painting now. A.B. 
New York, Jan. 25, 1826. 
''P.S. Ihave heard Harding speak very highly of a Mr. Jewett (of 
Kentucky, I believe) ; but I have not been able to see any of his por- 
traits. Harding is a capital judge, though, and altogether to be 
@epended upon.— A.B. 
PARTED TIMES. 
1 threw myself upon the shore 
When Evening glowed along the sea, 
And listened to its ceaseless roar, 
Sounding to me, how mournfully ! 
Zt made me think of days and men, 
And scenes I ne’er must see again. 
Ut called from their long-buried sleep, 
Shadows of hours that I had been 
By the white foam of that blue deep— 
What long, long years have rolled between ! 
‘When Life looked a bright star of bliss, 
Far, very far from world like this. 
I seemed to breathe a living air ; 
I bounded with the breeze along 5 
And every sight was then so fair, 
And Life appeared so bright and strong, 
And Love so sweet, I could not dream 
‘They all were but a rainbow’s gleam. 
And then the sun set darkly red, 
And in a moment it was night, 
Deep as the gloom that shrouds the head 
Of onx, who oft had seen its light 
Sirk in the waters, when, with me, 
Sue gazed upon that summer sea, 
Those waters are unchanged as then ; 
The same sun sinks beneath the wave: 
But I am not the same as when 
I walked with ner, who in the grave 
Beckons me from that dreamless bed, 
To leave the living for the dead. 
O, mournful is the murmuring wave, 
And sad the parting of the sun— 
Yet ’tis a joy such sights to see, 
Recalling, what with Life have done, 
Lost images to. Memory’s eye 
Of the byegone eternity ! ¥* 
M.M. New Sertes——Vou. II. No. 8. X 
