Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1836-03-04

mothers bosom and weep in silence.
Her poor parents hung in mute ankle
iy, over this fading blossom of their
hopes still fl1tteriug themselves that
it might again revive TO freshness and
that the bright unearIhly bloom which
sometimes flushed her cheek might be
the promise ofreturning health.
In this way shs was seated between
them one Sunday afternoon. her
hands y ere clasped in theirs the lat
lice was thrown open and the soft air
that stole 10 brought with it the fra
GRANGE Of The clustering honeysuckle
which her own hands had trained
round the window. "a, ..-
Her father had jnst been reading a
chapter in The bible, it spoke of the
vanity of worldly things and of the
Joys ofheaven, il seemed TO have
dil'used comfort and serenity through
her bosom. Her eye was fixed on the
distant village church; the bell had
lolIed for the evening service; the last
vilager was tagging into the porch
and every thing had sunk into that
haIIowed Stiffness peculiar 10 the day
ofrest. Her parents were gazing on
her with yearniug hearts. Sickness
and sorrow which pass SO roughly over
some faces, bad given hers the expires
sion ofa Seraph's. A tear trembling
IN her soft blue eye. Was she think
ing other faithless lover? -or were
her thoughts wandering to that dis
tant church yard, into whose bosom
she might soon be gathered.
Suddenly the clang of bSofs was
heard--a horseman galloped TO The
cottage he dismount d before the
window-the poor girl gave faint
exclamation and sunk back into her
chair - it was her repented lover! lie
pushed into the house and flew TO clasp
her TO his bosom. but her wasted form
her death,Iike cOuutenance-so wan,
yet 50 lovely in its desols,ion-smote
him to the soul; and he threw himseI
in an agony at her feet. She was too
faint 10 rse-she attempted to extend
her trembling hand-her lips moved
as if she spoke, but no word was ar
ticu'ated-she looked down on him
with look Of unutterabIe tenderness
and closed her eyes for ever!
Such a:e the particulars which |
gathered of this village story. They
are but scanty, and | ara conscious
have iitllenovelty to recommend them
IN the present rags for strange Incl,
dent an i hig seasoned narrative they
may appear trite anl insig6cant but
they interested me strongly at the
time; and tax N in connexion viii the
affecting ceremony which l had just
witnessed, left a deeper impression on
my mind than many circumstances of
more striking nature. have pas
sed through the place since, and visi
ted the church again. from better
motive than mere curiosity. Ii was
wintry evening the trees were strip
ped of their foliage The church yard
looked naked and mouruful and the
wind ruslled coIdIy through The dry
grass. Evergreens. however, had
been planted about the grave Of the
village lavorite, and osiers were bent
over it 10 keep The turf unlojured'
The church door was open, and |
stepped in. There hung the chaplel
Of fllwers and the gloves as on The
day Of The funeral: the flowers were
withercd it is true, but care seemed to
have been taken that no dast should
soil their whileness. have seen
many monuments, where art has ex
hausled its powers to awaken the
sympathy of The spectator: but have
met with none that speak more touch
ing TO my heart, than his simple, buI
delicate memenlo of departed limo
cence.