Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1848-01-06
NUMBER 45.
THE LAST OF THE s1cNERs.
BY GEORGE LrrrAan.
ONE to The window, old mani

I Come to the window, old mani
| Come, and look your last upon tins beauti-
fol earlhl The day is dying--,he year is dy4
ing--you are dying--so light and leaf and
| lie, mingled in one common death. as they
| shall mngle in one common resurrection.
/ Clad in dark mourning gown, that reveal
/ ed the outline OF his tall iorm, now bending
with age-once so beautiful in its erect mat
hood--rises man from his chair, TO The win
dow. spreading forth his thin, white hands.
| Did you ever see an old mans face that
combines all the sweetness OF childhood, with
the yigor Of matuTed intellect Snow white
hair falling in waved flakes around high and
open brow, eyes that gleam with mild clear
light. and mouth moulded in an expression Of
| benignity almost diyine2
| II is the Fourteenth Of November, 1882;
! the hour is sunset, and the man. CHARLES
CARROLL. of Carrolton, the last of the. slgners.
| Ninety Eye years OF age, weak and trerlb-
| ling old man. he has summoned all OF his
strength and gone along the carpeted cham
Der TO the window, his dark gown contrasted
with the purple curtains.
| He is the last,
! OF the noble Fifiy-six, who in the Revolu-
ton stood forth undismayed by the axe or glib
bet, their mission the freedom Of an age, the
salvation Of IA country. He alone remainsl
| One by one, the pillars have crumbled from
the roof of the temple. and now the ihst--a
trembling column--glows in the sunlight, AZ
! il is about 10 fall
| But for that pillar that crumbles, there IS no
hope that il shall ever tower aloft in its pride
again. while for this old man, about 10 sink
| into the night Of the grave, there is glorious
hope His memory will live. His soul will
/ live, not only in the presence of its God, bus
on the tongues and in the hearts OF millions
The band in which he counts as one can new
er be forgotten.
The last.
AS the venerable man stands before W, the
declining day mparts a warm flush TO his
face, and surrounds his brow with halo OF
light; His lips move without sound--he ia
recalling the scenes Of the Declaraiion--he IS
murmering the names Of his brothers in the
good work
All gone but him.
Upon the words-dyed with the rainbow
of the closing year-upon the stream darken-
ed by masses of shadow; upon the homes
peeping out from among the leaves falls mel
lowing the last light Of the declining day.
He will never see the sun rise again!
He feels that the silver cord is slowly, gently
loosening knows that the golden bowl is
crumbing at the fountains brink. But death
comes on him as sleep, as pleasant dream,
as kiss from beloved lips!
He feels tina, the land of his birth has be-
come mighty People, and thanks God tha,
he was permitted 10 behold us blossoms OF
hope ripen into full life.
In the recess near the window, you behold
an alteF Of prayer, above il, glowing IN tue
fading ligat, he image Of Jesus seems smi-
ling. even in agony, around the death cham
Der.
The old nah turns aside from the window.
lettering ou he kneels beside the alter, his
long, dark robe dropping over the floor He
reaches forth his white hands--he raises his
eyes 10 the face OF the Cruciled.
There, in the sanctIty of an old mans last
PRAYER, we will leave him. There, where
amid the deepening shadows glow the image
Of the Saviour; there, where the light falls
over the mild face, the wavy hair and tran
quill eyes Of the aged patriarch.
/ The smile of the Saviour was upon the
Declaration on that perilous day, the Fourth
Of July, l776; and now, that its promises
have frightened into lruition, He seems to-
He does smile on il again--eyen as his sculp-
tured image meets the dying gaze OF Charles
Carroll, of Carroltor.