Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1841-1853, 1850-01-24


BY JOHN S. REID.
When sleep had sealed with leadeu seal
The silent watches Of The night.
Afsr Ihro' realms OF woe veal,
My spirit took her eIia flight
The past with all is charms bright,
The future, brighter still BY far,
Rose my fancy, and their light
Humid my dream like midnights star.
Melhought played in Joyous gIee,
Beneath my old ancestral trees;
heard the hum of mountain bee,
And felt The breath of Summers breeze:
Like one who far at ocean sees
His long wished port, and home dear;
SO | eDlranced, on Bonded knees,
Brealhed forth my warm and fervent prayer.
With joy climbed the mountains brow,
And Ioamed alone the silent glen.
The paSt-the pssl-was with now,
That past which ne 'er be again.
Here lay my Grand-Sre's broad domain,
His castle grey, its frownng towers;
Once deemed the Pride OF waIlike men,
When chiefiains ruled with awcss powers.
Beside me seppd gentle step,
A milk-whiie hand was locked 10 mine;
A lovely eye with fondness wepI
lip that whispered-ever thine
lily dipped in rosy wine,
Was her young, soft and blooming cheek;
Her form was straight tender pine,
And oh, her eye mild and meek.
With lip she wclcom'd my return,
With eye che blamed my long delay;
Yet knew not why should Molina mourn,
Or why her heart gay.
We talked and toyed till evenings ray
With crimson gaInished all the west;
And only tore ourselves away,
When nature hushed the world to rest
The scene had changed I dteamed again
MethOught stood midst ehuIch-ysTd stonest
Beneath slept the forms Of men,
My steps were on their cTumblipg bones;
The night bat fitted thro' the gloom.
The screech owl round me tapped her wing,
Beside me yawBed made tomb,
Awaiting for some flower Of Spring.
heard the solemn dirge's swell,
The long, low wall Of mourning friends,
The dull tolIed sound Of mUfled bell.
The moaning of the midnight winds.
Dull thru the clouds pale Luna beams,
Like funeral lamps the appear,
By FITS and starts the lightning CLEANS,
As night assumed he's mantle dIear.
Lonely and lone sought the path,
Which led me 10 the sacred fame;
To gaze upon The face of death,
And weep with mourning friends again.
'Tis sweet TO soOIhe The breasi Of pain,
And mourn with those who silent weep,
The dOwncast heart with aid sustain,
And slrew with flowers the bed Of sleep.
iva. :he:-'twas her, my loved-my own.
Clad in the cerements of the tomb;
Cold wee her lips winters stone,
Her cheek had lost its roseae bloom;
Her eye, alas was wTapt in gloom,
Her Pulseless hand lay by her side.
And soon the gave would dark eniomb,
She who dIeamed would be my bride.
could not weep, could speak;
Like one enhanced gaZed around;
only saw her psliid cheek
only head the deah-bel sound,
Grief-deep, Unmingled grief profound,
Crushed my lone heart and smote ms brain,
prayed fnr tesTs-but found
To soothe my woe my pain.
Struggling with fear, and glief and woe,
whiting tuss'd in midnight's dream;
And walked not ill the orient bow
OF Phebus shot his earliest beam.
/ waked-but twas not all dream,
My trembling heart still thTobb'd with pain,
As Memory painted hill and stream,
wsked-but dared not sleep again.
What is this subtle, restless thing,
Which wakes when matter sleeps
Which flies as il with angels wing,
And thro' the past her pinion sweeps,
EaTth's darkest gloom the oceans deeps,
Are open TO her piercing eye.
Alas none knows, he who keeps
The secrets of Eternity.