American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1824-10-26

earlier years. and upon whose rinds we carved our
names IN The light-hearted gaeiy Of boyhood, as il
these memorials of existence would long sur.
viVe US ito see these whitening away like ourselves
with The nhrm'ies of age, excites within Us mourn
tul but pleasant feelings for the past aud prophetic
ones for the future. The thoughts occasoned bv
the frall and rerishing records OF younger DAYS
when the TRENDS that ave now lingering like our
selves upon the brink of the grave, or have long
been asleep in its quiet bosom, were around us
ouoyant with the ardor of youthful spirit. are like
the dark clouds, when the storm is gone, ting ed by
s; the farewell rays Of the setting sun.
| 10 these recolections of former times the mast
and the present meet together We 20 back again
INTO The valley Of youth, we gaze upon the vestiges
we lett behind us then, and tread in the foolse Ds
we trtd IN before. We remember the thouvhtiess
+; ness ard hiary, the summer and sunshine Of boy
hood, the hopes and fears, the aspirations and reve
res Of youth and may remember, too tha
those whose hearts were lightest, and whose hopes
Ilhe ialresl, were sooner than others summoned
Iaway to the desoiale and toiceless halls OF death
| vi those that were around us in the spring time
lot lite, and went hand in hand with us through the
i summer journey of youth, all perhaps have parted
from US on the verge of manhood, each 10 pursue
Ia separate path towards his destination. This
lpartlnR may have been the las, time we behed hem
+ from whom we never before pa ted We Iecollect
THE farewell pressure of the hand. ard the mel Ian.
Icholy voice whose tones think had some
Thing prophetic IN them. that told Us we were never
10 meet again. They had gone to distant chimes ),
ihad become strangers in strange lands ie the
Chastenings o. adversely, ard found rest from the
tolls and troubles OF ite in tie repose Of the tomb
When We hear of the death of friends hen we
know that those who loved, AID were loved by us
have gone before into The vale Of death and have
lalen asleep upon he bosom of the earth, never to
IaWaktn the thousand endeatmtuts and tender
nesses that had wound nnnoticed around our hearts
Innd stfcnB hened with the lapse of years. are bro
ken and "thered away, though hardly without
sevetiUg the chords OF Tie heart wilh them. We
call to mind their gentleness, their lorgiyng kind
ness and beneSoence towards and With these
come the recollections OF our own pride, our own
rt'engeul Thoughts. and the sweliIngs OF hearts
against them But our repentance is too late; our
tears unavang Our sorrows unnotced The
lame OF their being is quenched. the lamp of their
lexisence is gone out, and they have passed away
from us, into the land OF silence.
There is something in US that shrinks from the
cold heavy hand OF death. Nature struggles at The
lportals OF the grave! Yet, when the hand of the
living presses that of the dying when the voice oil
Owe is heard and religion has plulked away the
thorn from the death pillow, the spirit departs on
silent wings from its wasted tenement. But to die
lin distant land to be taken away when the eve is
turned again TO native homes, to know that the
i'iends who await our coming shall see us mol
more and the hearts that would welcome us mus
Deat to sadder measu is the bltterest dreg in the
lcup We must drink, and adds The thong h.
that the feet OF strangers will Tread upon our sepu
tchres he friends oil our earlier and better ytarsI
may weep at our departure, but they cannot weepl
lupcn our graves! They may awake tender recol-
Ilecons OF the past, but there is Tor love TO
Ienclrcie with her cypress Hreath.--Esen memory |
iwhels and decays when there is nothing to cherish
~, as the taper goes out, whose oil is wasted and
the hand Of time wipes dry the mourne's tear, and
| heals the broken heart.
I There is something so silent, calm, and so ho-
Ivy IN the close OF summer evening, that love
TO lmper IN the melancholy twilight, and MARI
The crimson sun growing fainter and fainter and
fading away like the hue oil the whitening rose Il
l-When the quiet moon is rising, and the skies
and woodland mirrorred in the silver lake be
meath them; when the breeze signs its evening
song, and the distant bell swings slowly and hea
Willy, love To oiter about the spot that was the
scene OF SO many of The Joys and festivities OF my
boysh days. Near this haunt of my chdho d, a
small Vulet winds slowly along through a woodland
OF beach and maple, and last pours lis slll
nto the bosom oil peaceful lake.-Upon its bank
is small terrace OF green turf, in The centre OF
which stands an old beach tree, scathed and won by
time, which in the days OF my bnyhood y as in the
vigor OF its years. Beneath The shade OF lis leye
branches they spread L
10 the sigh of the south wind their tremuluus green'
It was our custom 10 meet toy ether the close of
long summers day, and wear the evening away in
the hllary Of youthful sports Here TOO The ge ms {
iol friendship were warmed and cherished in our b.
sons, whose buds, and blossoms, and fruits, have
since appeared in the inter; al of Yeas. My eve
can yet trace upon its veuerabie trunk the names of
|" friends that were but :; of those that eros
sed the threshold OF the grave in youth, and in man
hood, at home and abroad and of those that are :
still vigorous and active the hustle of the void i
or like myself slowly descending the decIivity oil :,
years. Il