Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1849-12-22

And the burrows all SO mutcly pleading
Age and caro-
Seemed It pitiful he should sit there
Il was summer, and we went to school,
Dapper country lads, and little maidens,
Taught tho motto of the Ounces Stool
Its grave import still my fancy ladens,-
"Here's a fool!
II was summer and we went to school.
When the stranger seemed to mark our play,
Some of us were joyous, some sad-beartcdi
I remember well-too well that day
Oftentimes the tears unbidden started,-
Would not stay!
Whom the stranger seemed to mark our play.
eOnc swoct spirit broke the silent spell
All to me her name was always heaven =
She besought him all his grief to TOLL
Il was then thirteen, and she elevonO
Isabel!
Ono sweet spirit broke tho silent spell.
Angel, said he, sadly, I nm old;
Earthly hope no longer hath a morrow.
Yet, why sit l here thou shalt be told,-
Then his eye betrayed a pearl of sorrow
Down it rolled!
Angel, said he, sadly, l am old
I have tottercd here to look once moro
On tho pleasant scene where I delighted
In tho careless, happy days of yore,
Fro the garden of my heart was blighted
To the corol
l have tottcred here to look once morel
All tho picture now to mo how dcarl
Eon this grey old rock where l am seated
Is a jewel worth my journey here;
All, that such a scene must be completed
With a tear
All the picture now To mo how dear
Old stone school house lit is still the same!
There's the very step so oft l mounted;
There's tho window crcaking in its frame,
And tho notchcs that 1 cut and counted
For the game;
Old stone school-house lit is still tho Same!
In the cottage, yonder, I was born 3
Long my happy homc-that humble dwell
ling -
There the fields of clover, wheat, and corn,
There the spring with limpid noctar swelling
All. forlornI
In the cottage, yonder, l was born.
Those two gateway sycaInores you SEQ,
Then were planted, just so far assundcr
That long well pole from the path to free,
And the wagon to pass safely undcr =
Nincty-thrce!
Those two gateway sycamorcs you sec!
There's the orchard where we used to climb
When my mates and 1 were boys together,
Thinking nothing of the fight of time,
Fearing naught but work and rainy weather
Past its prime!
There's the orchard where we used to climb
There, tho rude, th~rcc-cornered chestnut rails,
Round the pasture where the cows were graz
ing,
Where, so sly I used to watch for quails
In the crops OF buckwhoat We were raising
Traps and trails
There, the rude thrce-corncred chestnut rails.
There's the Mill that ground our yellow grair
Pond, and river still sorencly flowing;
Cot, there nesting i'll the shaded lano,
Where the lilly of my heart was blowing
7 Mary Jane!
There's the mill that ground our yellow grain
There's the gate on which 1 used to swing,
Brook, and bridgc,and barn, and old red stabl
But alas no moro the morn shall bring
That dear group around my fathers table :
Taken wing =
There's the gate on which 1 used to swing
1 am feeting all l loved are fled
Yon green meadow was our place for playing
That old tree can tell of sweet things said,
When round it Jane and / were ~straying -
She is dead
am heeing all l loved are hcdi
Yon white spire-a pencil on the sky.
Tracing silently LIES changcful story
So familiar with my dim old eye,
Points me to seven that are now in glory.
There on high
Yon white spire, q pencil on the sky!
Oft the aisle of that old church we trod.
Guided thithcr by an angel mother;
Now she sleeps beneath its sacred sod,--
Sire and sisters. and my little brother
~ Gone TO God!
OFT the aisle of that old church we frod
There my Mary blest me with her hand.
When our souls drank in the nuptial blessir
Fro we wandered to that distant land
Now. alas her gentle bosom pressing =
'a There l stand
There my Mary bIcst mo with her hand 9