Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1835-03-05
From the Christian Intellisencer.l
A SKETCH.
"Not in sport alone


trode the heath flowers; but high thoughts rose
From the broad shadow Of the enduring rocks,
And wandered with me into solemn glens,
Where my soul felt the beauty Of His word.
| have heard voices Of immortal truth.
Bent with the everlasting torrent sounds,
That made the deep hills trenible.
Let us call on Him
Let us kneel down, as we have knelt so oft,
Thy pure cheek touching mine, and call Oh lin,
TIL all plying One, to aid"
(-lfrs. Hemans.
Softly and darky the shadows Of an even
ing in the month Of June, were gathering ov-
er the EARTH solitary star glimnered forth
upon the wayeless bosom of the rivcr-the
beautiful herald of that bright host about to
"hod their festival in the high heaven" The
wandering breeze was borne joyously along
on its zephyr wings-now kissing the mois-
tened curls that clung around my feverlsh
brow, and then, like a coy maiden dancing
away to sport with the bright and smiling
flowers, or curl the smooth waters of the
murmuring rivulet. All around was calm,-'
serene, and eoquently still;-and from the
soft witchery of the sprlt-stlrrlng air, as
from an angels wing, holy repose was
flung over the dark thoughts of my troubled
breast. The thousand soft and dream-like
whisperngs stealing over the earth, like the
deep breathngs of Natures mysterious sPlr-
it, glided into the innermost recesses OF my
heart,-awakening into life the pure and
mystic feelings, that were there unbrokenly
enshrned.
Far away struggling with the surround
ing twilight, light burst cimly forth. Almost
unconsciously, ] approached near the Cot
tage, from " hich it emanated. 1t was a
beautiful spot-one that is sometimes pctur-
ed forth in our happiest dreams, but which
seldom or never beauties and brghtens over
the bosom of the earth. The clustering
woodbine tondly clinging and encrcling itself
around the decayed portal of the Cottage
the beautiful and wide extended lawn, cloth
ed with the greenest mantle ofthe year-the
small but neatly arranged flower garden, lad
ing the air with the sweetest tragrances and
most delicious odours-the soft murmurlngI
of rivulet winding its broken stream
through the bright enamelled hclds-the
surrounding scenery rendered still more en-
chanting by the sottening shadows OF the
twilight hour and above all, the old and ven-
cradle Cottage, over which the darkness and
decay of many years had passed, standing u
mid the green beauty and freshness of ma
ture, like a consecrated monument, prophetic
of the dark doom that ever hangs over the
creations of human intellect and power
Yes ! it was beautiful spot and felt deep
ly felt the magic and the beauty of such a,
scene in its fullest power; for every thought
and every feeling eloquently accorded with.
the pensive quiet and harmony that breathed
around.
Suddenly deep toned voice broke on my
ear cautiously opened the little wicket,
that led to the portal of the Cottage, and ST.
lently approached the half opened and un-
curtained window. A venerable gray haired
man was seated by table, with the Holy
Book opened before him. Beside him and
partly resting on his knee, with her rosy face
eloquently upturned to that of the aged man,
! was young and very beautiful girl. Near
the window in an old and antiquated chair,
with her wrinkled brow resting over her with
cred hand, and her age -dimmed eye brightly
kindled with the spirit Of devotion, reclined q
woman passed far down the "rugged path Of
life." Nearly opposite, with one arm close
! ly encrcled around an infant child nesting
on her bosom, while the other was carelessly
! yet fondly flung around the neck of dark
eyed boy leaning at her side, sat very pale
and beautiful woman. The melancholy re-
pose of her featurcs-the sadness of her eye
revealing the thoughts and feelings OF sor-
rowiul heart-the paleness of her lofty brow,
and the withcring of her still youthful form
all too painfully told that she had felt the bit
! ter sorrow, that mOurneth over the death OF
the beautiful and loved 1t was scene that
eloquently portrayed the beautiful and most
Religious feelings Of our nature and 1t was
one that called forth from the sanctuary OF
the heart, its purest and its holiest thoughts.
II Iflhe words and the precepts OF the Holy
; Book, ever have blessing or a power to IN
tercst the heart, it is when they tremblngly
flow from the lips Of the gray haired man.
There is ever mournful eloquence IN the
) deep tones of the broken voice, and sadden-
|. cd beauty in his tottering frame and his age
worn features that never fail to excite an IN
creased interest for the duties he inculcates
and to awaken holy awe for the Religion
he processes. And thus did anxiously lin
ger near the window of that Cottage
ing with hushed heart and Il subdued spirit
to the divine instruction that flowed from the
=, prophetic lips Of that gray haired man.
He closed the Book; and in a voice that
eloquently breathed the sincerity and seren.
ity of his thoughts, he said, "let us kneel ant
! worship" A strange sensation, one that
= had never before felt, crept over my heart
y ] looked around me the earth was beautiful
: the shadows Of the evening were upon it
the stiffness Of the dark grave brooded ovo
a it looked above--the stars were shining
q gladly forth and in the bright revealngs o
. the dark blue sky, | thought could bchol'
! the starred face of one, who, IN my earlies
=, hours, had taught me to bend the knee il
y thankfulness and prayer-l knelt upon tn
! earth.
The aged man ceased his prayer; and as
:, arose from the earth | thought, that if ther
= Il L