The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1851-08-20
A Picture for Bachelors.

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II in that chair yonder- not the one
your feet lie upon, but the other beside
you---closer yet-were seated sweet
faced glrl. with pretty foo, lying oct
upon the hearth, bit of lace running
round the throat, and the hair parted to
a charm over forehead fair as any in
your dreams, and if you could reach an
arm through that chairback without fear
of giving ofeuce. aud suffer your fing'
ers 10 play idly in those curls that es-
cape down the neck, and if you could
clasp with your other hand those little
white taper fingers Of hers which lie SO
,emplingly within reach, and 20 talk
softly and low in the presence OF the
blaze, while the hours slip without
knowledge and the winter winds whls-
tie uncarcd for, if in short, you were
no bachelor but the husband Of such
sweet image-dream call it, rather
would il not be far p!easenter than
cold single night, sitting counting Ahe
sticks, reckoning the length of the blaze
and the height of the falling snowl
Surely Imagination would be strong'
er and purer if it could have the play
full fancies Of dawniLg womanhood TO
delight it. All toll would be torn from
mind labor, il but another heart grew
iuto the present, soul-quickening 1t,
warming it. cheering it, bidding it ever
God speed. Her face would make
halo rich as a rainbow top of all such
noisome things as we lonely souls call
trouble. Her smiles would illumine
the backest of crowded cares ; and
darkness that now seats you despondent
in your solitary chair for days together,
weaving bitter dreams, would grow light
and thin, and spread and float away,
chased by that beloved smile. Your
friend, poor fellow. dies-never mind ;
lha, gentle clasp Of her fingers. as she
steels behind you telling you no, To
weep-it is worth ten friends.
Your sister, sweet one, is dead-bur-
led. The worms are busy with all her
fairness. How il makes one think earth
nothing but spot to dig graves upon !
1t is more. She says she will be a sls'
ter, aud the waving curls as she leans
upon your shoulder, touch your cheek,
aud your wet eye turns TO meet those
other eyes. God has sent his angel,
surely Your mo,her--slas for il she
is gone Is there any bitterness 10 a
youth alone aud homeless like this 7
You are not alone. She is there her
tears sonening yours, her grief killing
yours, and you live again to assuage tha,
kind sorrow OF hers. Then these chlI,
drep, rosy, lair>haired-no, they do no,
disturb you with praiile now they are
yours Toss away there on the green
sward-never mind the hyacin,hs, the
snow drops. the violeis II so be they ara
there. The perfume of healihlul lips 10
worth all the flowers Of The world.
No need now io gather wild boqueis
to love aud cherish. Flowers. Tree, gup.
are all dead things. Things livelef
hold your soul and she. the mother,
sweetest aud fairest "f all. Watching,
tending. caTessing. loving ill your own
hear, grows painted with tenderesi ieal>
ousy. You have no need now Of cold
lecture 10 teach ihankiulness yout
hear, is iall Of tho need now, as once,
Of bursting blossoms. oi trees taking
leaf aud greennfss. 10 ,gn thought
kindly aud thankfully f1 ever beside
you there is bloom. aad eTer beside you
there is fruit far which. even, hosti aud
soul are full Of unknown. unsI,okep. bes
cause uaspsaksIle thank oHsHass,--
ReveFies " g BssAeiss,