Boon's Lick times. [volume] (Fayette, Mo.) 1840-1848, 1844-01-13
From the Louisville Journal.
PULPIT ELOQUENCE

One tremulous star in the glory Of June
Came out with smile and sat down by the moon
As she graced her blue throne with the pride of a
queen;
The smiles of her loneliness gladdeniug the scene
The scene was enchanting! in distance away
Rolled the foam-crested waves Of the Chesa peake
bay
While bathed in the moonlight the village was seen
With the church in the distance that stood on the
green;
The soft.soPing meadows lay brightly unroled,
With their nantes of verdure and blossoms Of
gold,
And the earth in her beauty forgetting to grieve,
Lay asleep in her bloom on the bosom Of eve.
light. hearted child, had wandered away
From the spot where my footsteps had gambol'd
all day;
And free as birds was the song of my soul,
As heard the wild waters exultngy roll;
While tightening my heart as sported along,
With bursts Of low laughter, and snaches of song,
1struck in the pathway halfworn over the sod
BY the feet that went up to the worship of God.
As traced Its green windings, murmur of prayer
With the hymn Of the worshippers rose on the air,
And drawn by the links Of its sweetness along.
l stood unobserved in the midst of the throng.
For awhile m young spirit still wandered about
With the birds, and the Winds, that were singing
without;
But birds, waves, and zephyrs, quickly forgot
IN one angel-ke being that bright ened the spot.
In stature majestic, apart from the throng
He stood in his beauty the theme Of my song!
His cheek pale with fervor--the blue CRIBS above
L it up with the splendors Of youth, and of love,
Yet the heart.glowing rapture that beamed from
those eyes
Seemed saddened by sorrows, and chastened by signs
As if the young heart in its bloom had grow cold
With its loves unrequited, its sorrows untold.
Such language as his may never recall,
But his theme was INSTRUMENTATION to all,
And the souls Of thousandfn ecstacy hung
On the manna-ke sweetness that dropped from
his tongue.
Not alone on the ear his wild eloquence stole,
Enforced by each gesture, it sunk TO the soul,
Till it seemed that an angel had frightened the sod
And brought to each bosoma message from God
He spoke of the Saviour--what pictures he drew!
The scene Of His sufferings rose clear on my view
The cross-the rude cross where he suffered and
died.
The gush of bright crimson that flowed from his
side;
The cup of his sorrows-the NORWOOD and gall;
The darkness that manted the earth as q pail;
The garland of thorns--snd the demon.like crews
Who knelt as they scoffed Hin, Hail King of the
Jews"
He spoke, and it seemed that his statue.like form
Expanded and glowed, as his spirit grew warm;
His tone so impassioned--so melted his air,
As touched with compassion he ended in prayer:
His hands clasped above him--h:s blue orbs up.
thrown,
Still pleading for sins that were never his own,
While that mouth where such sweetness neffaby
chung.
Still spoke, tho expression had died on his tongue
Oh Cod what emotions the speaker awoke:
A mortal he seemed-yet deity spoke;
man yet so far from humanity riyen!
On earth--so closely connected with Heaven!
How often in my fancy I've pictured HIM there
As he stood in that triumph of passion and prayer,
With his eyes closed in rapture--ther transient
eclipse
Made bright by the SMILES that illumined his lips
There's charm in delivery--a magical art
That thrills like kiss from the lip to the heart;
IT'S the glance--thc cxpression--thc well chosen
world,
BY whose magic the depths ofthe spirit stirred.
The smile-the mute gesture--the soul-startling
pause;
The eyes sweet expression--that melts, while it
awes;
Tn lips soft persussion--its musical Tone
Oh! such was the charm Of that eloquent one!
The timei is long past--yet how clearly defined
That bay, church, and village float up on my mind;
see amid azure the moon in her pride
With the sweet little treubler that sat by her side;
hear the blue waves, as she wanders along,
Leap up in their gladness and sing her song,
And tread in the pathway half worn DER the sod,
BY the feet that went up to the worship of God.
The time is long past, yet, what visions see!
The past the dim past is the present TO me.
! am standing once more mid that heart stricken
il,- throng:
A vision floats up--'tis the theme of my song
All glorious and bright as a spirit of air,
The light like halo encircling his hair
As catch the same accents IF sweetness and love,
He whispers of Jesus-and points us above.
How sweet to my heart is the picture I've traced
Its chain of bright fancies seemed almost effaced
Till memory, the fond one that sits in the soul,
Took up the frail links. and connected the whole;
IL Il