North Carolina standard., 1852-01-03
For ,ha s,and.rd

For the Standard.
THOUGHTS FOR CHRISTMAS TINES. .9
Merry Christmas Merry Christmas is the CHEEKY
greeting We all anxious to extend to our circle OF
friends, as -.72 st'At
"The time draws near the birth of Christ"
But does 1t never occur to that it is sometimes
as well TO leave the greeting unuttered That mer-
Try Chrlsmas to some is mockery? That your
cheer1l Volce-your lighted eye, and earnest face,
you offer 1t, may but (as the placid maiesty and
light OF the stars but adds more lurid glare to the
torches OF battling multude) to throw into deep
er relief the inevitable suffering and melancholy that
must hang about some of our fellow men
Let the youth, whose pale brow grows CHASTITY by
his midnight lamp, as the bleak wind of Christmas
eve hows around his windows, answer if it can be
merry Christmas to him. Nay, put by your book,
you cannot find in any intel ecual effort; but
few more years-but few more Chris:nas-eves-
when your brow will become more and more ghastlv,
and your eye grow brighter yet sadder and you may
hnd res-rest with the worm, in the land where all
things are forgotten %; but quit thee like man
and meet
The dreams and fancies of the days of yore Z"
which the ghostly Christmas-eve must needs bring
with it.
Let the vision that should now have been your
comfort and your hope near, and pass her hand
over your mild but throbbng forehead You will no,
shrink from her touch for there is yet doubt he
ther she you poured the energies of your being
upon is talse-and oh how blessed is doubt to
think Ill of her. and speaketh ill too they wished
to draw you from her, and succeeded in an external
separation, but the "green stalk of your life
cropped " by this " ungentle wind," and perhaps
she thinks tonight sadly and reproachfully of
you of her. Still you strive to think they act
ed kindly and we'll for you, but your heart would be
estranged from them, and tonight you alone,
"Lone as the corse within its shroud."
Yours is a short story since that first blow" vale
of tears You have found that neither hope of
ame n0f tO fhn
ual growth, nor bright days that past can so far
satisfy the human soul to it to dwell, even
for while, In IFS tenement of clay and you try
find comfort in the thought that she is happy with
out you. Poor sufferer" build your hope in HeaY-
en-" There few, and but few such you
to be met with in the dreary intercourse of daily
life. Can it be merry Christmas with you I!
solitary old man" the last leaf upon the tree"
fingers over his expiring fire, while the thin twilight
of mld-winter unheeded creeps upon him; he is not
alone" soft and silent as dream" the friends he
has loved come about him-the hopes brighter than
poets dream, that have been crushed under the
relenting tread of stern reality, become in moment
living things. But
Whittier hath fled the visionary fame,
Where is now the glory and the dream 2?
The friends have fled from him, and Joined the vast
legions of the dead, while with outsretched finger
they warn him that {" life's itfu fever'' ended, he
must soon join the same quiet army. The bright
visions of his youth have sunk into the vastly deep
of the past, and left him hopeless and careless for
this world. How blessed do feel it, as he sinks
back "gently as weary wave" into his old arm
chair, that he may be hopeful for another. This is
no uncommon close of life where want and sorrow
are &; and can it be merry Christmas with him =?
1t is very uncommon for even few years to he
spent in Vanity Fair without feeling the "pangs of
despsed love-, hearing the harsh voice of despon-
dency or despair, or seeing the hand of death fall
heavily upon those who dear to US; and Christ
to all brings back thoughts of the loved and lost
Is it then we'll to greet the stricken and crushed
heart with wishes for its joy9 Is not any other
son better than this for interchange of good wish
es?
Valid objections, reader, if "Merrie Christmas is
to you only season to feed the body and enjoy
sual pleasures But there those who hail it-with
the patient faith of the dead-as something more
whom echoes come from beyond the grave, like 10
"a very lovely song of one that hath pleasant voice,"
to whom death is an event in the beginning Of life,
and the memory of their hopes and grefs-be they
many Or few-but as melancholy symphony from
gence that they have g no abiding city here,' that
all which they