Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1837-12-28


or have long been asleep in its quiet
bosom. were around 1s buoy ant with
the gaiety Of youthful spirit. are like
the dark cloud. when the storm hath
gone. tinged by the farewell rays Of
the setting sun.
In these recollec,ious Of former
times, the past aud the present meet
together. We 20 back again into the
valley OF youth-ws gaze upon the
ves,iges We lei, behind Us then. and
tread IN the footsteps we trod in be-
lore. We recoileoi the though,less.
ness ADD hilsIiiy-the summer and
sunshine OF boyhood-the hopes and
fears- the ASPIRATIONS aud revelrie, Of
youth--snd We may remember. too,
that those whose hearts we're the light
est. and mos, ela.iic-and " hose hope.
were the faIrest. were sooner than
Others summoned away Ia the desola,c
aud voiceless halls Of death.
OF those who were around Us in the
spring tame OF life, and went hand in
hand with Us through the sunni. er Jour
ney OF youth. all perhaps, have parted
from us. each To pursue a separate path
towards his destination. This parting
may have been the last time we be-
held them from whom we never be-
fore parted. We recliocct the fa.e.
we'll pressure OF the band-,hc coun &.
tenance OF hope and sadnes,-and tue
melancholy voice, whose tones we
now think had something prophetic in
them, that icld us We were never To
meet again. They had gone to foreign
e'imes-beeome strangers in, strange
lands-felt the chas;cnings OF adversi.
~. and found rest from cares. perplexi.
ties. and tolls Of the world, in the re-
pose Of the tomb.
When we hear of the death Of
friends-when We know that those
Widowed and were loved by Us, have
gone before us into tho vale Of death
aud fallen asleep upon the bosom Of
the earth, never again TO waken the
thousand endearmeuts and tenderness
ses that wound unno,iced around our
he arts, and strengthened with the lapse
OF years, have broken aud withereJ
away. though hardly without severing
the chords OF life with them, we call TO
n,'hn 'he'r gentleness. their forgiying
kindnes', and their 6enryolence To-.
wards us-and with these come ,bo
recollection OF our own pride-our
own revengelul thoughts, and The swell
iinSs oil our hearts against them. But
our repentance is too late-our Sorru~s
unavaIling, our tears unnoticed The
iiame Of their being is quenched-and
they have passed To- that "undIscover-
ed country. from whose bourne no ira
weller returns" to that shorelcss and
ia'homless ocean, whose waves still
roll on-unJ si"s-irnloT:al as the be-
ing who inhabit. eternity.
The feeling comes over "a at such
seasons. which distinguished poet de
scribes while standing by the grave of
his friend, In the opening of spring
Tie looked upon the vernal trees around
bim-hc listened TO the myri4ds of
voices, which, in glad songs, were ush.
ering IN the delicious season-but from
all that il brought-the green slope
the swelling upland-tinged with the
rich dress Of May, he turned to gaze
upon the poor remains before him,
which came not forth renovated from
the winter OF death-for the spirit
which had inhabited, and given life.
and vigour, and the animation TO the
mortal body, had flown where no win
ter is-but where there is a continual
spring. in the land Of spirits.
Since, then. we are all declining to-
wards the grave--since the time is fas,
approaching, when I'VE must all lie
down alike in the dust, and the worms
shall cover us"-whelher we fade
away in youth-in the prime of Fife
or wrap the mantle of age about as.
Jet US look forward TO the consnm.
nation OF our earthly career. az 10 IAN
event which hsppeneth to ALL" and let
our course ia youth. in manhood, and
in age, be such that IN the hour when
our countenlnces are changed, and we
sent away we may lie down at peace
with the world and with our own
| hearts"