Jeffersonian Republican. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1840-1853, 1845-03-20
The Time to Die.
BY MISS MARTHA A. wIswALL, OF ALBArY

|
! in heavy folds To the floor, casting an air of CON-
! fort over the room, and excluding the piercing
cold Yet tremor passed over the frame of the
/ old man, as the storm without fell upon his ear
4" am thankful have shelter on such night
as this" said he, drawing his easy chair nearer
| to the fire. "No TO the wretch that roams abroad
in such a Storm then musng for some time, he
began pacing the room and ever and anon pausing
in deep thought, which at length found expression
=" Death is fearful thing to contemplate. at any
| time, but in such season as this, melhinks
would struggle hard for life. To be placed deep
in the cold and frozen earth, no! she herself seems
to strive TO prevent the act, and winds her robe Of
snow over her strong breast to prevent admttance
! within her breast When die, may it be in the
bright and joyous spring time, when all nature is
/ fresh and gay. But, hark surely did not hear
a knock, for who would venture out on such
night" and opening the door, he saw before hin,
young girl, who begged for shelter in accents to
excite pity in the hardest heart. The appeal was
enough for the kind hearted old man, and drawing
her within the room, he gave her seat near the
fire, and tried to revive her dropping frame. AZ
ter she had so far recovered as to answer his in
quIrles, she told him she was lonely creature
with no friend in the world; she had roamed about
| from place to place, living charity; she had
never known father or mother or relative
! The old man, still dwelling upon the subject
which had for some time occnpied him, asked her
if death would not be welcome messenger TO
her, as she had nothing for which to live and no
one cared for her,--would she not be willing to
die and be at rest
'Oh. ask me not TO give up my life--it is some
times bright and Joyous In the lovely summer,
the flowers are my friends, the birds speak to me
/ from the trees; and the bee winds his tiny horn
for me, and then wander forth 10 the green woods,
and life is all sweetness. Oh, no. youth is no
time TO dien"
Years rolled on; the spring appeared gradually
bright, the birds rejoced on every bough, and all
nature smiled TO welcome the blithe Goddess of
Spring. But the old man had found new ties to
bind him to the earth; the houseless wanderer was
now as daughter to him; his interest in her Was
too strong a bond to be easily broken. 1t was as
hard to leave the world now, as in the cold and
dreary winter; age seemed but to strengthen the
love of life, although youth was wthered, and ma
ture dying, yet " life life only was his desire"
Spring passed, and summer with its mild and
balmy air. visited the earth-lhe maiden smiled in
gladness of heart, and the old man reoiced in her
happiness, for she threw joy and bliss around-her
happy laugh rung upon his ear in wild and merry
peals she watched the flight of the gay butterfly,
and her sweet song arose upon the air she tend
ed her birds and watched the opening of each bud
to the light. Time flew swiftly by, yet the old
man and maiden were as fondy attached TO the
earth as in its spring time. Death gained new
horrors as the seasons advanced; their summer
paths were srewn with flowers. I" 1t was no time
to de-"
Autumn, with its purple grape and downy peach,
and pleasant nuttng- time, took the place of sum-
mer, and brought with it the lightness and joyous
ness ofcoo air and freedom of the oppressive heat
the little maiden tripped through the dry leaves,
and chased the squirrel with almost its own swift
ness; then throwing back her sunny curls, she
bounded the side Of the old man as he sat under
the vines of his door, making glad his eyes with
her bright and happy face, and his heart grew
young again in her lightsome, joyous mirth both
little thought of Death. The earth had clothed
Il
herself from the eye of man-she seemed not TO
wish for human company in this her time of change.
Winter again returned again we see the old
man sitting in his easy chair before the bright and
glowing fire but he is not the solitary being he
was before for beside him is in the first blush
of youth and grace; she is no longer the gay and
noisy child she is no less lovely, no less happy
bnt q deaper thouuht steals over her face and a
heavenly radiance sits upon her features, as she
bends over the book from which, in accents OF
deep reverence, she reads the word of God to the
old man.
What think they now Of death, The faces of
both look more restrained, the Holy Spirit sheds
it's light upon the way which leadeth to the grave
it no longer seems dark and lonely The old man