Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1841-01-08

tremulous and very low, came family over them.
Those words, broken and sweet as they were,
left the first dear impression that ever remained
on my memory" Lead her not into temptation,
but deliver her from evil" This was my moth
cr's last prayer! in that imperfect sentence, her
voice went out forever. Young as | was, that
prayer had entered my heart with a solemn
strength, raised my head from its resting
place, and gazed stricken upou the face of
my mother. Oh, how an hour had changed il (!
The crimson flush was quenched OH her cheeks,
moisture lay upon her forehead, and the grey,
mysterious shadows of death were stealing over
each thin feature, yet her lips still moved, and
her deep blue eyes were bent on me, surcharged
with spiritual brightness, as if they would have
left one of their vivid unearthy rays, as the seal
of her deathbed covenant. Slowly as the SUM-
beams pale at night fall from the loaves of a
flower, went out the star like fire of those eyes
mist came over them as softly as the dews Of
night fall upon the flower, and she was dead
Even then knew not the meaning of the SOL
cmn change had witnessed, but when they bore
Inc forth from my mothers death bed, my heart
was filled with fear and msgvng.
All were overwhelmed with the weight OF
their own sorrow, and was permitted to wander
around my desolate home, unchecked and for.
gotten. ] stood by as they shrouded my mother
and snoothed the long hair over her pale fore.
head. Silently | watched them spread the
winding sheet, and fold those small pale hand.
over her bosom, but when they closed the blinds
and went forth, my little heart swelled with
sense of unkndness in shutting out the sun
shine and the sweet summer air which had SC
often called smile to her pale lips, wher
it came on her bed fragrant from the rose
thckets and the white clover fields. which la,
beneath the windows they had SO cruelty dark
ened. The gloom Of that death chamber made
me very sorrowluI went to the bed, turne,
down the linen, and laid my hand caressingly OF
the pale face which lay 50 white and motionles,
in the dim light 1t was cold as ice drew
back afrighted, and stealing from the room, sa
down alone, wondering and full OF dread
They buried her beneath lofty tree OH thu
bank of river. Near by waterfall raises it
eternal anthem, and the sunset filings its las
golden shadows among the long grass that shell
tiers her | remember il al---,he grave with it
newly broken sOd-thc coffin placed on TIT
brink. The Clergyman, with his black surpic
sweeping the earth. and The concourse of neigh
bors gathered round that grave, each lifting hi
hat rcyercntly, as the solemn hymn swclled o.
the air, answered b. the lofty anthem gurrn
up from the waterfall, and the breeze rustlin
through the dense bQughs Of that gloomy tree
Then came the grating Of the coffin as it wa
lowered INTO lis dusty bed the dali, hollow SCUM
of falling earth and those most solemn word
"dust to dust and ashes to ashes" With
monrnful distinctncss were all these things i'm
pressed upon my mind; but my mothers Ia.
prayer IS written more forcibly than all in cha,
actcrs that but Deepen with maturity. 1t has ir
gered about my hear, blessing and safe
guard, pervacing it with music that cannt
die. Many times when the hcedessness {
youth would have led me into error, has III;
sweet voice, now hushed forever, in.ermingle
with my thoughts. and like the rosy link of
fairy chain, drawn inc from my purpose. Ofte
when my brow has been wreathcd with flower
for the festival, when my cheek has been tlushc
and my eyes have sparkled with anticpate
pleasure. have caught the reflection of thoh
eyes in the mirror, and the thought OF the loo
which rested upon NE when my mother died
that broken suppljcation 10 Heaven has CON
back to memory, lie clustering roses have bee
torn from my head; rad and gentle lnelnotit
have drank the unnatural glow from my check
and my thoughts have been carried back to IL
lost parent. and from Der, up to the Heaven 81
lnhabts. The festival and all it's attraction
have been lost in gentle reflection, and La,
been "delivcIed from temp on."-Again,w he
ID the sparkling wine-cup has almost bathcd n
lips, amid merrmcn and smiles and music, h;
the last sad prayer ofmy mother seemed to mil
y gle with It's ruby contents, and have put aw;
Of the goblet that 81 might not be led into tempt
ton" When my hand has rested in that of Il
dishonorabe, and ,remblcd to the touch OF hi
who says in his heart there is no God as til
voice seemed to flow with hs Turing accents
have listened TO il, and fed as from the serrc
Of my native forest.
Again, and again, when the throbbings OF an
p bition have almc't filled my soul, and the prais,
l.! Of my fellow men have become a precious il
cense, the still small voice OF my mothers pray
has tren.bled over each heart-slring, and hindlc
it to more healthy music. In infancy, YOU
and womanhood, that prayer has been to me
holy remembrance sweet thought full
melody not the less beautiful, that there is sa
ness in it.
From the Boston Morning Herald
'e A THANKSGIVING DINNER,