The Northern galaxy, and Middlebury people's press. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1843-1844, 1843-12-06
1.-The day is past and gone,"

Many persons have heard the Evening
LYNN" commencing with the line,
1.-The day is past and gone,'
beautiful for its simplicity, and which, in for
mer years, might have been heard by New
England freside, sung by the united voices
of household, before retiring TO rest. Now
for the first time, its music rose on the still air
of the lonely and solemn wilderness. The
clear and deep voice of Mr.. Osborne trembled
not, even when the voice of Rosa was heard
joining in the hymn in accents sweet, yet low
and broken-for the iron nerves of strong
man are not easily shaken, even when the
heart is bleeding with anguish; but the voices
of the mother and brothers were unsteady,
and sometimes almost ceased, for they knew
that it was the last time Rosa would ever
sing with them. She had, before they COM
menced their hymn, been removed to the
shelter of the bower, bui so near the entrance
which had, by her request, been made to look
towards the home of her star which had at
tracted her attention when it first began to
kindle its fire in the heavens.
She spoke of Edgar Ashton, and holding
up her hand. so as to display plain gold ring
he gave her at parting, requested it to be re-
turned TO him when she was dead.
| 'Oh, Rosa cried Robert, sobbing as he
spoke, you will get WE'LL know you will. ;
No, Robert shall die, and you and faith
er, mother and James, will all have to go
away and leave me here alone. You, moth
err, must write to Edgar Ashton, and tell him
you left me resting in pleasant spot near a
stream of clear water, almost as beautiful
as that which runs near the home we
left. Tell him the song Of birds will float
over me by day, and that star, sweet and
mild as the one we loved to imagine was the
home of ministering spirits, will shine upon
my grave by night. Mark the spot where
you bury me, so that if ever he should be a
wanderer in this country, he may find where
I | lie She now closed her eyes, and SEEM
ed inclined to sleep.
The night wore on, and the father and
mother watched together by the low couch
of their dying daughter. Even the boys, so
slight were their slumbers, reused themselves
at every noise, were it only the low twitter of
a bird, as it moved on its leafy perch.
| The day star had risen in the east when
| Rosa awoke from her heavy sleep. Mr.. and
Mrs. Osborne bent earnestly forward to catch
the low murmur of her lips. Her words were
broken and indistinct, but they knew that she
spake of the blessedness of that land where
friends meet to part no more. and where sor-
row and signing flee away. She became 81
lent, and they saw it was death that had hush
ed her voice. Mrs. Osborne, and the boys
covered their faces and wept; but Mr.. Os-
borne, as he turned his eyes toward heaven,
now glowing with the first beams of day,
said in a low, yet unfaltering voice, 1.-THE
Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away;
hessed he the name of the Lord
Ali the next day they watched beside their
dead. Her shroud was carefully arranged
by the mothers hands, and her long golden
tresses, which used to sport with every breath
of wind, were parted on her cold forehead,
and lay mOtionless amid is snowy folds. Rob
ert and James gathered violets and wild flow
ers, which they knew she loved, and placed
them upon her bosom.
| The twilight shadows began to gather. A
grave had been dug in the shade of the lar
gest and most beautiful of the trees, amid
whose branches birds were now singing their
evening songs. They knew that the time
! had come for them TO commit her to the dust,
and kneeling down by the bier, woven of
strong hOughs, Mr.. Osborne offered up
prayer, fervent and humhle-heart-thril
vet full of trust. When they arose they felt
strengthened for their mounful task. They
placed her gently i'll the grave they had pre-
pared, looked upon her for the last time, and
then all but the father turned away, for they
could not bear to see the earth fall upon the
sweet face that had so often smiled upon
| them. and which was beautiful even IN death.
/ Mr.. Osborne leaned for few minutes on his
spade, and breathed silent prayer that he
might not shrink from this last trying duty
which he owed 70 the dead.
! BY the time the grave was closed and COW
cred with the fresh green sods, daylight had
entirely faded. All was calm and silent
Even the voice of the winds was hushed; yet
as they sat together by the spot where they
had laid their poor Rosa, "a floating Whisper
such as is heard only in the deep hush of the
evening or night time, seemed to come to
them like low and distant music. None
spoke, vet it fell on the ears of all with deep,
soothing power. 1t appeared to them like
the echo of spirit voices, singing some sweet
hymn, such a one as Rosa used to love to
breathe with her clear musical voice, on a
still Sabbath evening in summer.
The morning rose bright and balmy, and
Mr.. Osborne. with the assistance of his fami-
ly, having enclosed the grave with logs pre-
pared the day before, mentioned that it was
time for them to pursue their journey. Ev-
cry thing being ready for their departure,
they looked on the grave for the last time, and
wept.
When they arrived at the spot destined to
be their future home, Mrs. Osborne's first
care was to perform the request of Rosa, and
write to Edgar Ashton. The letter and the
ring were entrusted to the care of a gentle
man about to commence a journey, which
would lead near the young mans home, and
he promised to deliver them with his own
hand. He wrote an immediate answer, for
1t was consolation to pour out his heart to
those who he knew would give him their
sympathy.
a thousand thanks said he. towards the
conclusion of the letter, for the faithful de-
scription you gave me of the spot where YOU
made her grave. 1t is present to my mind
in the still evening and in the deep night. 1t
will ever be the dearest spot to me on earth,
and soon to be able to behold it, is the dearest
hope | most fondly cherish
number of years afterwards, as travel