The native American., 1838-04-07
THE WIDOW OF MAIN.
J. L. D..
BY N. p. WILLIS.

The Roman sentinel stood helmed and tall
Beside the gate OF Main. The busy tread
OF corners to the city mart was done,
For 1t was almost noon, and dead heat
Quiver'd upon the fine and sleeping dust,
And the cold snake crept painting from the wall,
And bask'd his scaly circles in the SUM-
Upon his spear the soldier Iean'd and kept
His idle watch, and, as his drowsy dream
Was broken by the solitary foot
or some poor Inendicant, he raised his head
To curse him for tributary Jew,
And slumberously dozed on.
Twas now high noon.
The dull, low murmur OF a funeral
Went through the city-the sad sound of feet
Unmred lcih roices-and the sentinel
Shook off his slumber, and gazed earnestly
Up the wide street along whose paved way
The silent throng crept slowly. They came on,
Bearing body heavily on its bier,
And by the crowd that in the burning sun
Walk'd with forgetful sadness, twas of one
MouIn'd with uncommon sorrow. The broad gate
Swung on its hinges, and the Roman bent
His spear point downwards as the bearers past
Bending beneath their burden. There was one
Only one monrner Close behind the bier,
Crnmplng the pail up in her wther'd hands,
Followed an aged woman. Her short steps
Falterd with weakness, and broken moan
Fell from her lips, thicken'd convulsvely
AS her heart bled afresh The plying crowd
Followed apart, but no one spoke to her.
She bad no kinsmen. She had lived alone
A widow with one He was her all
The only Tie she had in the wide world
And he was dead! 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 sutry heat. The beaded sweat .
Stood thicky on his brow, and on the worn
And simple latchets of his sandals lay
Thick the white dust Of travel. He had come
Since sunrise from Capernaum, staying not
10 wet his lips by green Bethsa,la's pool
Nor wash his feet in Kishon's silver springs
Nor turn him southwark upon Tabor's side,
10 catch Gilboa's light and spicy breeze.
Genesareh stood cool upon the East,
asst by the sea Of Galilee, and there
!he weary traveller might abide till eve,
And on the alders Of BethuIia's plains ...
he grapes OF Palestine hung ripe and wild
Yet turned he not aside, but gazing on
From every swelling mount, he saw alar
Amid the hills the humble spires of Main.
! he place of his next errand, and the path
Touched not Bethulia, and q league away
Upon the East lay pleasant Gaee.
Forth from the city gate the plying crowd
lre Followed the sticken mourner. They came near
The place Of funeral, and with straining hands
Close upon her breast she clasp'd the pail,
And with gaspng sob quick as a child's,
And an inquiring wildness flashing through 49,.
The thin, gray Iashes Of her fever'd eyes,
She came where Jesus stood beside the way.
lie look'd upon her, and her heart was moved
weep not' he said, and. as they say'd the bier.
And at his bidding laid it at his feet
de gently drew the pail from out her grasp
And laid il back in silence from the dead.
With troubled wonder the mute thronr drew near
And gazed on his calm looks. A minutes snace
He stood and pray'd. Then taking the cold hand.
he said 'Arise!' And instantly the breast
Heav'd in lts cerements and a 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 mourncr hung upon his neck
Jesus went calmly on his way to Nan