Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1845-10-02
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Saturday Emporium.
THE LAST LOOK.

/ From the Saturday Emporium.
THE LAST LOOK.
There are few in this world who have no
lost some dear friend, either linked to then
by the ties of blood, or by pleasant com
panionship enshrined in their hearts, ant
halIowed and held sacrad by true and dis
interested affection. The insatiate tomb ha
robbed almost every one whom it has spar
ed, of some being on whom his eye restet
with pleasure, who softened for him the as
2erlies Of life's rough pathway, and into
whose bosom he poured his own heart:
rich treasures-feelings, confidence and love
They have seen them droop and die gradu
ally, perhaps. They have seen the rose fade
the flesh waste-the muscles relax-ant
the eye grow IustreIess, or beam with tina
unnatural light which is sometimes born o.
disease, and only tells of its progress. They
have watched in grief and tears the shifting:
Of fever-the slow sinking away Of life
the hours of agony-the days of quiet ant
Iapparent convalescence-the hopeless re.
lapse-and the final triumph of death. They
have paced the room where the poor body
lay shrouded for the grave, and where Death
almost seemed visibly present, casting a
shadow upon every wall and object, and
gazed on the rigid form, the marble aspect
the soulless, unspeaking features. They
have felt, too, that deep oppression and
heart-sickness which comes over every one
upon such an occasion, where the grim ty-
rant seems to be watching and gloating over
his victim, and the riot of decay is already
beginning to be seen. All this has lacerat-
ed and crushed their hearts; but, perhaps
the bitlerest pang of all came with the las
look into the grave, when the coffin had been
lowered, the loved object consigned to its
long, dreamless rest, and the busy spade oil
the sexton was throwing back the senseless
earth upon it, and hiding it forever.
During sickness, we have the object be-
fore us, wasted and sadly changed it may be.
but still capable Of communing with us, OF
Iappreciating our kindness, of returning our
love, and of throwing few rays of sun
light over the cloud of our sorrow-faint
indeed, yet still enough to gid its gathering
gloom. There is still the old smile running
now and then over the features, and lighting
them up with something of their former ex-
what it once was, falls upon our ears, and
we follow our friend with a sort of linger-
ing hope, convinced of his doom, yet half
looking for deliverance, down to the very
banks of Deaths river. And even when
that voice is hushed, and the last smile has
faded, when the bolt of doom has been
launched, and the wreck of mortality lies
before US, we somehow take melancholy
pleasure in gazing at the expressionless lea-
lures, and lipger in blind devotion at the
shrine, though the deity which hallowed il
has departed.
But when we gaze into the closing grave
we feel that our friend has indeed gone and
hidden from us forever. He has made his
final exit from the stage of life, the curtain
has fallen, and we shall see him no more
till we ourselves pass behind the scenes.
We know that we can listen to his voice
no more, breathing eloquence in public, OF
cheerfulness in the daily intercourse of life
We can never gaze into his eyes again, flash
ing with genius, beaming with kindness, OF
shedding tears for human suffering. We
shall meet him no more in the busy crowd
or at the quiet freside. The grave has re-
ceived him to its remorseless embrace, and
his sensible presence is lost to us forever.
All these thoughts rush upon the mind al
that moment and sweep over the heart in a
tempest of wild and bitter agony. The
brightness Of the past but renders the pre-
sent more dark-the future more gloomy.
The pinions of hope, though unbroken, are
wet and heavy with tears, and scarcely bear
the heart above the grave into which it looks,
and where its idol lies. Oh! the last look
into the graves Of kindred, on the cherished
companions of life, would, indeed, scarcely
be endurable, did not revelation assure us OF
a resurrection, and whisper to our hearts the
sweet promise of Immortality. God help
the man who, at such an hour, has no faith
In that promise, and believes all which was
his friend is thenceforth nothing but dust