Columbus Democrat. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 18??-18??, 1838-12-01
The Creek Indians

HO NJ Ely MRS. s. NJ. PHILIPS.
The following striking passages are from the
\. Journal Of the late Mrs Sophia Manning Phil
Bios charming writer and poetess, who died
Neyeral months since, in Louisville, XIV.
"Home--beloyed and early home--I bid thee
bail again! Changed as thou art from constant
kheerIuness to the shadow of sorrow lost, bless
\ Cd scene as is thy sound Of bIilhe voices, and
Almghter, and music, and harmless, kindly mirth
Soy very heart Is glad-glad, though the tear is IN
! my eye--to return among thy still and dear iaml-
i ar things. God how they rise up, and speak
tome, as with voice hear the echo Of my
. atdhoods laughter see the cleaning faces
# my chiIdhood's mates hail anew The won
j dr. Of the waters! chase the startled wings Of
laeiag butterflies. Dear, holy home might !
: boz die within thy well known sight But if |
] nn to leave thee, will tear from bosom, for the
sake Of him that loveh me, all wild and haunting
memories. Not once hereafter will seek the
dirk corner, to gather up Thy vanished blessed
d S., to c0utt thy boarded hours Of merry times
and lresh--to see thee as thou vert, my home,
and weep!
VI know not wherefore, but this Sunday after
noon reminds me more strongly and strangely
] mn common, Of olden words and days. The
w'Fm ar IS abroad. knocking the reign of dismal
feoFnary the snow patters from the leaves N
mmkllng drops the sun--ust like the sun o.
o'heT days lis on my head think OF thee, my
ioland saInted -! of the heaven sWead on
j +" peace and love above mine eyes, OF the earth
WIN all It's vanished or forthcoming beauties, o
,,c'' or trials, stretching beside aad beyond me
?" he winter Is rolling onward and away. Th
oIf ng! Perchance she even now seeketh he
plas to awaken their sumber and her breezes L
s''ane them TO melody She lookelh, perchance
" her skies, that their tint be forever unmatched
" her moods, that they bound underlying, err
'0"s al her call! There shall be spread over tn
sweet pathway of grecness, and we that live OF
BOSOM, shall watch along lis valleys Iof lee
"RieA come not, and listen among It's pleasan
sounds Tor voices which arise not. And THIS
,'e cup which we all must drink, and in oar tur
% mourned for day, and missed for day, an
- down TO the dust and grave! Who Will wee
sad stay for me, when my hour cometh! PEI
! Us none This is bitter and sad thought nov
ssfe to dwell upon IT. but when the time ii
90 Is at hand when the breath is going ava,
"n 'he eyes can no more lift up themselves |
s''h OF heaven, and the memories or scenes
~ ,'e that is leaving US are batied and unrecos
"No' It matters little, | ween, whose hand is O
NV mead or whose yet glowing lip is pressed
~''--the fading and the cold Ii matters moi
= Thy last beam, descending sun,
ans 10 my page from yonder heaven;
crave yearn-'tIs vainly done!
r. Nor sound nor signal thence is given,
iae souls Of those we lose and love.
y May spread their holy wings around
f-apth's whispers-but above,
beek'neth no finger, breaks no sound
&c The summoned stars alone.
Gathering in silence round the throne.
neEfARE Yourselves for the great world as i