Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1841-1853, 1847-09-16
For the State Sentinel.
Three Scenes in ~ Lifetime.

BY MRS SARAH 7. BOLTON.
Fresh dewy flowers hung on pictured walls
And there revelry in ancient halls;
II was a festive time, bridal day,
A merry gathering Of the young and gay;
And there were snowy brows and sunny eyes,
And sparkling jewels OF a thousand dyes;
Fair forms mingIing, moving TO and fro,
Sweet words Of love whispered, soft and low,
And gaiIy midst the fair. the glittering thrOng,
Arose the gleeful laugh and choral song.
To joys wild measure bounding pulses beat,
And Time on iewelied piniuns passed too fleet;
But they had gathered at the altar now
That youth with stately tread and noble brow,
That dark eyed maiden, timd, slight aud fair,
And he, the holy man, with silvery hair.
The VOWS spoken, and the rite done;
The lingering guests departed. by one,
And soft the bride went foIlh to bid farewell
To girlhoods happy haunts in bower and dell
She wandered TO the stream whose shells and flowers
Had been the psy hingS Of her ch:ldhood's hours;
Then O'er her heart like sumo mysterious spell
The boding shadow Of the future fell.
Still would the streamlet sing the same old song;
Still would the waves dance merry along;
Still would the moonlight glitter the shells;
Still would The sping bring hack the starry bells
Even the zephyr, rowing lightly Ger,
Might again the blossoms the shore,
Aud she, perchance, behold them nevermore.
And other feet might where hers had rOved,
And other eyes behold what she had loved.
She sat beneath the breezy green arcade
The mingng branches Of the old trees made;
The tide of feeling in her soul strong,
And her full heart poured out gush Of song.
Dear mother! fond true-hearied mother,
All lovely and dear as thou ant,
leave thee, but how can ! smother
The thoughts of my yearnng heat
To thee have ever cOBhded
The dreams Of my wayward youth;
Thy counsel bath faithfully guided
My steps in the paths Of Truth.
And oh! should my fond heart grow lonely,
And droop like the drluge dove,
When it has resting place ouly
The ak of husbands love,
Then homeward, my dear MOTHER
My thoughts. like the BIRDS shall fee,
And then, my fair sister aud brother,
Then, then will think Of ye.
And oh, when we gather even,
Around our altar 10 pray,
Speed one aspiration to heaven,
Fol- hes who is Tar away
/ wandered in a sunny southern cline,
On a bright evening, in the summer time;
A vale, as fair as fancy's widest dream,
Stretched before me, and lovely stream
Now glanced and spaIkled like a flood of light,
Then wound Though woodland bowers beyond my sight.
The lime the myrtle and the orange bowers
Sent up the incense of a thousand flowers;
The faint lad music Of the zephyrs sish
The voice of shivering leaves IN fond reply;
The bees low hummng and the wild binds call;
The murmur Of a distant waterfall
In mngling, melting harmony arose,
And charmed tumultuous feeling TO repose.
A lovely cottage before there;
Its latliced poIticos and walls so fair,
Just peepng through flowers and bright green leaves
Trained in festOous DER windows, doors and
A father sat beside the open door
Coming ponderous tome of ancient lore,
And near fair young mother, meek and mild,
tuIled to its evening rest cherub child.
Oh she was beautiful, nameless grace
Beamed like halo OH her girlish face
Twas not the auburn tresses unconfiued;
Twas not the brow where intellect shrned
Twas not the rosebud lip, or eye SO bright,
That made that liquid, wavy spell Of light;
The charm OF all, itself from all apart,
Was the soft sunshine Of loving heart
The clock within a lonely city tower.
Tolled the departure Of the midnight hour;
Black clouds sweeping DER the wnIry sky
The northern blast in trumpet tones, went by,
Rang like the falling Of a thousand feeti
At that lone hour, within an attic room,
All rife with want aud wretchedness and gloom,
woman struggled with the fearful strife
That rends the brittle thread Of human life. =,
Sill she young, but sorrows bIighting storm
Had spent its fury on her fragile form;
Still there beauty the pallid brow,
Where the cold death-dew gathered slowly now.
Through the long hours fair slight boy had kept
The lonely vigil, while his mother slept; -
But now, she Weakened, and her eye grew bright
With the last sparkle OF the spirits light,
And in a voice that tire nbled low and deep, l.,
She said" My precious Willie, dost thou weep
"I too could weep to leave thee he,e alone;
But oh my Father, let thy will be done.
There a time, my almost orphan child, l.
eWhen thy poor fathers voice soft and mild
'He was the kindest, gentles best of men,
"Aud well, my darling boy, he loved thee them
"He loved me too, how fundly aud how we'll
al have no word, no time, no strength 10 tell;
And we were happy the woid strange.
"But let il pass, there came fearful change;
"The iempter sought dear domestic bower,
!" In guise a human, but fend in power;
From him your father learned to love the mirih
And boisterous revel round the strangers hearth;
"At first, he did not leave lonely long;
But soon tie wtchery grew deep and strong,
"And have watched fiom dark till dawning grey,
sand through the tardy hours Of the long day
Shave watched and wep and still he did not come
ITO cheer desoaIe, our lonely home.
8" And when he came, he upon his brow
"The dark expression that beclOuds it
my step grew heavy, and my voice grew weak,
"The udd, bloorp departed from my cheek;
"My form wasted, and my eye was dim,
"And yet tried 10 hide it all from him.
al dried the buraing tears that strove TO start;
81 tried to still the lhrobbiugs Of my heart;
"I whispered woIds Of love, and sought TO win
His erring footstsps from the path of sin.