Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1834-03-06
POETRY
THE coNsUmpTIvE.
BY ENROLL CONWAY.

I had been absent from my native
village many years, and Il was with no
little emotion | examined the marble
records within our little grave yard. II
was lovely Sabbath morning. short
time before village service. Old Orwell.
the sexton, rested upon tomb stone and
sang with voice cracked by age and en-.
ergy in psalm singing.
ga pikeaxe and spade,
And exc a shrouding sheet, "-ete
On my entrance, however, he ceased,
and moving from stone to stone gave me
a simple pathetic tale Of the sufferings and
death Of each decaying inmate. Among
my boyhood friends none had been dear
er to me than Levin Lee. His robust
frame and elastic step then gave promise
Of long life and vigor; and here nous was
his tomb, lying in all its "damp white ST.
lence" His was a common story-con
sumption-removsl for time TO more
genial cIimate-and deatb--death within
sight of the spire Of that church. An old
willow gives suitable solemnity to the
waters 81 IiS aIaa osfSlSk feiessTsa ! the
with low, sweet murmur among the
neighboring naples. Altogether he sleeps
in a sadly romantic spot, and such an one
as might almost reconcile even youth TO
death.-S Sketches by a Schoolmaster.
Gently, most gently, on thy victims head,
Consumption lay thine hand."-H. X. White.
knew in youth rosy boy, with darkly flowing
hair,
With eye Of pride and foot of light, and soul as
free as air;
But time rolled on and dimmed his glance, his
bright cheek lost its glow,
Consumption's cold and sickly dew hung chilly on
sbrow.
They bore him far to Eastern seas, where Scio's
mellow isle
Gives fragrance TO the Egean gale; but his pale
lip wore smile;
He stood where low mid orange groves, white
Kennels waters sigh,
He trod Italia's hills and ,cept beneath her sum
mersky.
For oh! his heart was far away, beside the dane
ing stream
Where ersf, when life-now nearly sped-was
as Joyous dream;
He chased the blue winged butterfly, or fingered
at red even,
To list the free bird MARBLE forth his hymn of
praise to Heaven.
He longed 10 see his native hills; to tread the
shadowy glade;
To hear the wild brooks silver song beneath the
Willows shade,
And thought could he but deeply drink, 'twould
cool his fevered brain,
And wash from his DER burdened breast all sense
OF woe or pain.
But when his pale brow paler grew, and DINNER
waxed his eye,
Then came the fearless agony, far from that home
Ito die;
Full well they knew his spirits bruise no earthly
balm could heal,
And sadly turned his feet once more toward his
own mountain vale.
He drank the sigh of gentle wind, from many a
sunny shore,
As DER old oceans CLASSY breast, his fleet bark
lightly bore;
Long would he list at eventide the boatman,s
reckless stave,
And listess sit at morn and gaze athwart the dark
My heart is chill, he murmured oft, in accents
faint and low,
MY damp locks like funeral pail, hang darkIy
DER my brow;
OH that could again but breathe my own free,
forest air;
Mother-sweet mother! speak to me-Oh arc we
'almost there!"'
They tell me that It's sweet 10 die, upon the hoof
torn heath,
When clarion blast, and trumpet note, lead on the
brave TO death,
And for the old and hoary- haired life's woes and
cares TO fiy,
But earth's bright hills are dear to Mech. ia.
thcr must dies
Twas thus he incurred his hapless fate, and for
his loved home sighed,
Till dropping on his fathers breast, the "chld of
sorrow" died:
Beside the green fringed fountains brink, be-
meath the Willows shade,
The spot he loved in childhood best, his wasted
form they laid.