Lincoln telegraph. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1836-1846, 1838-07-26
POETRY.
TIE WIDOW OF MAIN.

The Roman sentinel stood helm'd
Beside the gate of Main. The busy hum
OF corners to the city mart was done,
For il was almost noon, and a dead heat
Quivered upon the fine and sleeping dust,
; And the cold snake crept painting from the wall,
To bask his scay circles in the sun.
Upon his spear the soldier lcan'd, and KEEP:
His drowsy watch; and as his waking dream
Was broken by the solitary foot
OF some poor mendcant, he raised his lips,
To curse him for tributary Jew,
And slumberously dozed on.
Twas now high noon
The dull, low murmur of funeral
Went through the city-the sad sound OF seet
Unmixed with voices-and the sentinel
Shook OF his slumber, and gazed earnestly
Up the wide STREETS, along the paved way
A mourning throng wound slowly Ihey cane on
Bearing body heavily on its bier.
And by the throng that in the burning heat
Walked with forgttfil sadness, twas OF one
Mourned with uncommon sorrow. The broad gate.
Swung on its hinges, and the Roman bent
Ills spear point downwards as the bearers passed
Beneath their burden. There was one
Only mourner. Close behind the bier,
Crunpling the pail up in her whered hands.
Followed pnaged woman Her slow steps
Faltered with weakness, and IA broken moan
Fell from her lips thckenel convulsvely
As her heart bIed afiesh The plying crowd
Followed apart, but no spoke to her.
She had no kinsmen.~ She had lived alone
A widow with one son. He was her all
The only tie she had in the wide world
And this was he They could not comfort her.
Jesus drew near to Main as from the gate
The funeral came forth. His lips were pale
With the Moons fainting heat The beaded sweat
Stood on his forehead, and about the worn
And simple latchets Of his sandals lay
'rhick the white dust of travel. lie had come
Since sunrise from Capernaum, staying not
To we; his lips at green Beihsaida's pool,
Nor wash bis feet in Kislmn's silver Strings,
Nor turn him southwark upon Tabors side
To catch Gilboa's light and spicy breeze.
Genesareth stood cool upon the East,
Fast by the of GaliIee, and there
The weary traveller would rest till eve,
And on the alders of Betbua's plains
The grapes Of Palestine hung ripe and wild;
Yet turned ye not aside, but gazing on
From every swelling mount, beheld afar
Amid tile hills the humble spires of Main,
The place of his next errand, and the path
Touched not Bethulia, and league away
Upon the East lay breezy Gaee.
he thought but of his work. And thus,
With Godlike self-forgetluness he went
Through all his misunderstanding sicknesscs
Where er lie came, and never known to weep
But for a human sorrow, Or TO stay
His feet but for some plying miracle.
AMI in the Garden when 4 spirit grew
''Exceeling sorrowful," and those lie loved
Forgot him in his agony, and slept
HOW heavenly ptntle WAS his iHiiu ItITOSCfl--
''Coull ye not watch with me one hour! Sleep on
Sleep on
Forth from the city gate, the throng
Followed the aged mourner. They came near
The place of burial, and with strainng hands
Closer upon her breast she clasped the pail,
And with Il hurried Sob quick as child's,
And nquiring wincss flashing through
The hn gray ashes of her fevered eyes;
she pussed where Jesus stood beside the way
He looked upon her and his heart moved
sweep not!' he said, and as they stayed the bier
And at his bidding set it at his feet
He gently drew the pah from out her hands,
And laid il back in silence from the dead.
With troubled wonder the mute crowd drew near
And gazed on his calm looks. minutes space
He stood and prayed. Then, taking tn cold hand,
He said "Arse!'-and instantly the breast
Heaved in its cerements, and sudden flush
Ran through the lines of the divided lips,
And with murmur OF his mothers name,
He trembled and sat upright in his shroud;
And while the mourner hung upon his neck
Jesus went calmly on his way to Main.