Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1848-03-01

been. selEsupported, almost selfedlcated,
II, md at t6e s;nie of f1the commencement OF
This. sketch was in the expectation Of enter
ing upon the ministry in the course Of a
year. @ $. .ys.s.<.tsY5 3.9 ~. 81 -
And this man poor, unknown, and deyo-
ted to holy calling, was thechoice Of An
ME Moore, the wealthy The beautiful, the
reared! 'aTwas passing
strange''-our worldly ones wondered at,
ard our sewing circle gossipped about the
matter, for a month or two, and then the
raff1ed tide Of our village life flowed on as
usual. But ,was On my way e. pay Annie.
morning yisit. lliidtn Gordon had
called the night before, to bid Us adieu, as
he was to be absent for many months, |
thought his betrothed needed little cheer.
ing up. ..-sa $780,.
/ found her sitting at her work, as usual
and but a slight tremulousness Of the voice,
and glistening Of helong brown eye-lash.
told Of the painful parting which had just
taken place.
aWhen will William re,urn4" present
ly inquired. -
'.ln May-little less than one year."
"And then?'' -
And then we are to be married-so hold
yourself in readiness TO be my bridesmaid" !"
The summer passed-a season Of earn
est, untiring and prayerful toll, with the
young student, and ofpatient, hopeful, and
sustaining love, on the palt Of his betreth-
ed Then came the chill Of autumn, fol-
lowed by a winter of uncommon severity.
Our dear Annie, while on night visit to
dying friend, was exposed to sudden
and fearful storm took cold-ah, does not
my reader anticipate the mournful conse-
quence? Her mother and elder sister had
died ofconsumption, and soon, very soon,
the seal Of death was on her blue-veined
brow, and the very voice Of the grave
sounding in the hollow cough which shook
her fragile frame. We knew that she
must die, and she, unlike many consump-
tive, knew it also; ye, she was strangely a.
verse to acquainting her absent lover with
the fearful truth. She wrote to him that
she had been iH-was still suffering from
debility; but that he must not be troubled
about it, nor be sur prised by her changed
appearance, when he should return in the
spring. Not one word Of the dread, last
parting before them-of the grave, which
might .s
aRival the bridegroom, and take from his side,
To repose in its bosom, his beautiful bride"
At length May came round again, and
with it returned William Gordon, the young
clergyman He was bowed 10 the earth
by the great and unlooked.for affiietion
which awaited him-yel meekly drank he
the bitter cup, for his God had mingled it.
Sweet Annie was passing rapidly from
ear,h-growing more and more fragile in
form, and angelic in spirit day by day, and
poor William became intensely dssirous
that their union might take place. An
MES friends readily assented, but she to
our surprise, firmly refused to grant the re-
quest Of her broken-hearted lover.
One evening he was sitting alone by her
side, as she was half-reclining on couch;
the hectic flush was more startling bright
than usual on her cheek, for she had suffer
ed much that day, and as he thought how
very near might be the dark wing of Gods
dread angel, he took her wasted hand in
his, and said
"Oh, my Annie, lei me coll you wife,
before you leave me! You would not be
so utterly lost to me then, for would know
you bearing that sacred name in Heaven.
Refuse me not, love-"
ssOh, William, William, urge me no
longet," she replied, sit must not, cannot
be am the bride OF heaven, you musl
not be my husband, and hear me, dearest
you must no longer be near me-your love
is precious, but it is earthly, and it come.
as cloud between me and the glories OF
that upper world, to which hasten. You
voice, my own, is sweeter to me than tn,
hymns Of the angels, heard in my dream
of heaven! We must part, now-for eve
ry hour renders you dearer, and how Col
| leave you at last"
With heroic and martyr.like- calmnes
spoke the mistaken girl-mistaken, for
pure love, for one worthy, is the holies
and sweetest preparation for His presence
who sis love.'
William Gordon saw her firrnness, an
that she was weak and trembling from the
excitement of the scene, and
Gin close heart shutting up his pain"
resolved to yield instant and uncomplaininl
obedience to her wishes. He rose up calm
ly, and imprinting on her forehead kis.
Of mingled love and anguish, turned ant
was gone! Annie buried her face in he
thin, white hands, and remained in an ag
ony of prayer and grief. Then CAM
vague regrets for the course she had taken
and painful doubts of the necessity Of the
sacraice she had made. Presently sh'
heard well-known step-William had re
turnedl His calmness had forsaken him
and he murmured imploringly-
| 'If must leave you to die alone, An
ME, let me fold you once more to m,
heart, before l go-it will give M
strength"
| He knelt on one knee beside her, reach
ed forth his arms, and sobbed like a child
she leaned upon his bosom
No word was spoken by that pair. Low
ing and faithful unto death, while the foo,
| of sorrow swept over their hushed spirits
as the fountains of the souls great dee
were broken up. Yes, silent, but not tear
less, knelt William Gordon, with his lin
pressed against the dear head which la
upon his heart. At last he raised his eve
heavenward and those lips moved in whis
, pered prayer-he unweund his arms an
would have risen, but Annie moved not-sh