American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1822-10-08
VOL. T.



clover; the turtle doves cooling the roof with
plumage Frightening in the sunshine; while over
all Is shed DIM and tender shadow from the EN-
towering Sycamore, beneath whose shelter was
built, many long years ago, the little humble edi-
hce.-ln its low simplicity, it might be the dwelling
of the poor; but the heart feels something in its
quiet loneliness that breathcs of the spirit of cult
waited life. A finer character Of beauty pervades the
still seclusion, than the hand o. labor shed
over its dwelling in the gratitude of its Sabbath
hours; all around seems ministering to the Joy.
and not TO the necessities of existence; and as the
eye dwells on the gorgeous ornaments which sun.
and air, and dew have showered in prousion over
the blooming walls, the mind cannot but think of
some delicate and gentle spirit reti,e ed from he
world 1t had adorned. and enjoying in the twilight
OF lie the sweetness aud serenity OF nature
Such were its inmates few short months ago.
The sound OF music was heard far down the ro-
mantle banks OF the Calder, when, in the silence OF
evening, the harp was touched within these humble
walls, or there mingled voice OF spirits
hymnng through the woods. But the strings Of
the harp are now silent, and the young lips that
sung those heavenly anthems are covered with the
dust.
The lady who lived there in her widowhood was
Isprung of gentle blood and none who had but for
moment looked on her pale countenance, and her
Ihgure majestic even under the burden OF pain,
could ever again forget that image, at once So
emn and so beautiful Although no deep lines dis
turbed the meek expression OF that fading lace, and
lsomeihipg that almost seemed smile still shone
over her placid features, yet had that lady UNDER
gone IN her days hardshps, and troubles, and Gala
milies that might have broken the heart, and laid
low the head Of manhood in its sternest pride. She
| had been with her husband in famine battle, and
| shipwreck. When his mortal wound came, she sat
| by his bedside; her hand closed his eyes and
wrought his shroud and she was able to gaze with
sleadiast eye on all the troops marching with
versed arms, and with slow step, to melancholy
music when the whole army drawn up at his
funeral on the field OF battle. Perhaps, then she
wished to die But two children we're at her knees
and another at her bosom and on her return TO her
native country, she found heart to walk through The
very scenes where she had been most bless ed, be-
fore those infants were born and to live in the very
dwelling, to which he who was now buried had
! brought her young and happy bride. Such had
been his last request-and seventeen years of resig-
nation and peace had now passed over the widows
whose soul was with her husband at morning and at
Il evening prayers. during hours OF the day when
Il there were many present, and during hours OF the
4 night when there none but the eye of God to
Il witness her accomplishing melancholy Her grief
was calm, but it was constantt ripened not, bus
a it wasted away-and though all called her happys
all knew that her life fral, and that sad
and sorrowiul even in her happiness not des-
!, tined by God for old age. Yet for her none felt
4 pity-a higher feeling arose in every heart from
the resignation perfectly expressed in every mo-
ton, look, and tone--and beautiful as she was Ola
earth, there came across the souls Of all, who be-
] held her thought Of one yet more beautiful i'll
heaven.
:. Her three daughters, although their health had
always been delicate, were well, cheerful and hap
= py; but some said, whenever they were met walk
ling alone, a solemn, if not mournful expression
j was their countenances and whether it was SO
or not, they certainly Stunned society rather than
Isought it, and seldom partook of the innocent
> amusements natural to youth, and to which youth
llends so much grace and attraction No one ever
lsaw any Of them unamiable, from the
$ gladness of Others but shade Of sadness now
percepble all their demeanor, and they seem-
: ed bound together by some tie even more strict
$ than that of sisery affection. The truth was, that
!, they felt Cod had given hem but short life, and
that when the bier of one was carried into the
church yard that of the other would not be long OF
a following it TO the place Of rest.
Their mother died first, and her death had been
long foreseen by them for they who spoke together
Of their deaths, were not likely to deceive them
selves with respect to that OF dear to then,
allShe was ready and willing to die but, resign
i ed she was, could not but be affecting TO her
parting spirit to those three beautiful specres
,f gliding round her bedside with countenances and
persons that plainly told they were fast fastening
,f on to the tomb.
III The funeral of the mother conducted as il
deserved to be; for humble she was in heart, yet
she had been highly born; and many attended her
y body 10 the grave who had almost forgotten her,
, when alive in har simple retirement. But these
ri were worldly mourners wso laid aside their sorrow
with their suits of sable; many who had no right to
walk near the coffin, elt they had right to weep
over her grave, for manySabbath, after her bur-
al groupes collected beside the moundand while mae
,-ny them could not but weep, none LETT IT without
a sigh a., blessing. When her three daughters.
after the intermission of few Sabbaths, were again