Herald of the times, and Rhode Islander. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1846-1849, 1847-08-19

all IN dtueTeut u*<ections, engaged III va
ried employmcnts then we look back
upon the past, the hallowed hours now
forever gone; the pleasant words tha,
have passed, aud the bright looks tina,
have been exchanged, aud are now sealed
only in memory. These all come back
to us with peculiar force, touching all
the most sensitive springs Of the heart,
aud making us live over the past, thou
sand times, in dreaming remembrance.
A0er the lapse of a few years, one af-
ter another of our friends pass suddenly
away, like the fresh flowers of spring,
while the dews Of an expanding affection
still rest upon the youthful heart, and
long ere its warmest hopes have been
realized Such is human life To-day
we Iuxuriate in all the wealth of well-test-
ed love, and the full possession Of every
thing that the heart can desire, and to-
morrow we are wrapped in shroud, and
the fond ones Of Yesterday stand weeping
around the cold tomb, while careless
hands place us there to rest.
A few moments since, and | anticipa-
ted so much pleasure with my friend A
few weeks ago, and large circle OF
friends were happy in her society, and
the literary world was made glad by some
new production of her pen which came
glis,ening from the press, filled with the
briglu and beautiful thoughts Of her pol
ishcG and classic mind. And now
"'rs diihcu't to feel that she is dead.
Her presence. like The shadow OF a wing
Tha, is Just les>ening IN the upper sky,
Lns,rs npun us We can hear her voice,
And for her step We listen, aud the eye
Looks for her wonled coming with strange,
Folgcilul earnestness.
Who hath walked
The world with such winning lovelineSs,
And on lis bi ghi briei Journey gathered up
Such TREASURES of affection /, She was loved
only as idols are. She was the pride
or her familiar Sphs,e-lhe daily joy
O all who on her graceiulnsss might gaze,
And IN The light ard music OF her way,
Have a compan ions portion. Who could feel,
While Ookihg upon beauty such as heis,
That IL would ever perish 7 IL is like
The melting Of a star into the sky
Whie you are gazing on il, or dream
la It's most ravishrng sweetness rudely broken ="
But beauty such as hers, that of the
mind, cannot die; it will live beyond the
grave. and shine with renewed splendos
IN the bright realms whittier she has gone.
But oh, 1t is severely trying to all the
more tender and delicate emotions Of our
better nature, TO feel that we are so cir
cun,stanced in this life, that one so young
aud 50 accomplished must be rudely torn
from rs. i'll the very morning Of existence, /,
according to the economy of Gods
Providence.
It's a harsh world. in which affection knows
No place To treasure up It's loved and lost
bul The foul grave"
Yet, memory is faithful to her trust,
and until that faculty becomes dimmed by
age or disease, the ha.lowed virtues of
the dead are preserved in perennial fresh
ness.
" Like The vase in which roses have once been
DISTILLED
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you
will.
Bu The scent OF the roses will hang round il
still"
As the mingled events Of each passing
year are rapidly buried in the tomb of
oblivion, | am the more forcibly impress
cd with the truth and beauty of Words
worih's lines,
1.-THE good die first,
And they, whose hearts are dry as summerdusi
Burn to the socket
1t does, indeed seem as if
i Those whom the Gods love, die Young"
for the record Of the past will show that
very large majority of the most brilliant
and promising poets that the world has
ever produced, have died in the spring.
time of their career, like some sensitive
and delicate plants which are destroyed
by an unexpected frost. M one DIES, be |
he ever so humble, without a mourner,
and the most obscure grave is always
moIslened by tears Of affection from eyes
that can no longer gaze on the idol that
Is lost; but when some bright star that
has shone with peculiar Ius,re, attracting
the attention and winning the admiration
of men, suddenly disappears from the hor-
lzon, and is yelled, physically and men
tally. from our Observation,-there is
more than common sensation produced,
Tor Just IN proportion as the departed was
known and esteemed, does the resistless
tide of grief extend We can all take
these things home to the heart, for who
hath not lost friend, and suffered from
the severance of the sineus ofthe hearts
devoted affection Deprive us of the So
ciety of those whom we love and adore,
and life is at once shorn Of all its fasci-
mating charms; beuitchlng pleasures may
surround us in the great masquerade, but
the golden ideal of a ripened hope has cx-
panded beyond human ken, and our spir-
it-eyes are turned from the darkness of
earth to the perpetual sunshine and the
perennial joys of that bright paradise,
where we fondly anticipate a reunion
with the loved and lost, in an eternal
of perfect happiness.
Who, that is familiar with English lit
cra,ure, has not read with fearful eyes.
the melancholy life Of Chatterton, the
gifted boy who commenced his career
when but seven years of age, and gave
symptoms Of that precocious genius