The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1828-10-02

lscuy uuTylnp RIOu1u On
the borders Of the city. Whether it was
TO hold discourse with those for BON fate
has marked me an early companions; or to-
minister to that melancholy which the smit-
ten must always endure, stopped not TO
inquire; but removing the slight fastening
ofthe gate, entered the "city Of the dead"
to read the mementos of earthly vanity.
Among the young spires Of grass that were
starting from the graves, were strewed
thousand minute white blossoms, dotting
the hilIock5 and casting a slight perfume
on the chilly air l gathered few as
passed on, and thought them like the pro-
mises of childhood, only blooming Tor ear
ly waste.
Mcditating upon the scene before me, |
was unconscious Of the presence ofany hu-
man being;till lifting my eye, discovered
that anothefhad entered the enclosure -
/ had leaned upon head stone and stood
unseen by HIM.
1t was man who bore upon him the
marks of four score years, If grief indeed,
had not mingled in the account. When he
first met my sight, he was standing beside
an unsodden grave; as he gazed downward
upon the new made hillock, a sigh burst
from his bosom, that told how much he had
yielded to death.
"And this is ALL" said the old man" all
that youth promised and manhood labored
for From among the host of those who
shared my blood, | stand solitary and time
smitten, upon the grave OF the last OF my
children--and there was none TO save her
upon whom my life rested. My hand, pals
sled with grief and age, closed her eyes ;
with tears and prayers dismissed her spi-
Tit, when mine should have beckoned her
sp to kindred enjoyment"
81 have called you, my child, IN the ST.
lence Of night; and the echoes ofmy voice
have told me am chidless. ihove gazed
around upon the crowd--but 1t is peopled
solitude; there is no eye to bless me, no
tongue to call me father. Why am
doomed to breathe-to walk forth among
men, without fellowship in their feelings
why when the sun shines upon, without
warming my frame--why do not his beams
rest upon the sod above me, while | slceI
unconscious Of bitterness and woe ~
The mourner fell forward upon the grave
before him; and as he exhibited no signs o
life, | approached him. His frame, whicl
had lost some of its height by bending owe
the grave, now exhibited all ofmanly moul,
and strength, that years ofgrief had spr"ed
His hat had fallen from his head, and hi
grey locks were strewed around, as ifa TEN
post had swept them. spoke, but he re
iurned no answer. There appeared q sa
credness in his griefupon which, for world
Iwould not have intruded. | therefor
waited--but no movement from the bGn
before me, gave token Of life. | advance
and touched him--he testified no sense ,
my presence. ! stopped, and turned h
face from the ground--but no change
features indicated life, and the fixed gloI
siness Of his eyes seemed to say that b
had passed the frution of his wishes.
Raising his body placed myself on Ir
knees by his side, and with some exertioI
induced symptoms Of returning life. III
freshness Of the morning breeze aided n
exertions. and warmth and motion ont
more visited his limbs. As HE eyes gat
cred back the light, they rested on Il
grave before him, and q consciousness
Bis situation returned. "Tou have witnes
>ed my unmanly complaints and seen !
give ND all TO sorrow" said he. intiT
ted thst entered the yard before him
out had observed him with painful SYM
thy.
"Then voai have known affection" 81
he. Jpoin,ed to early grey hairs and T
Eowed brow. The sufferer gave my hs
q convulsive grasp, and a slight flush q
had sufIused his face, passed off sit
him 20 rise from the damp erodnd on wh
he was sitting. snd conducted him to 70
where seating ourselves. I learned, il
few words, the tale ofa grieE-woru faith
He had lived in one ofthe eastern Stat
The misfortuRss and early death Of en-