The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1852-05-15

then laden with the wealth ofilagrant treasure;
and seating hcrsellhy my side dclied me to frame
for them a history. Then, playfuly selecting
her lavoritcs, said they should tell me of lifcs
| changes for each. II has been long, very long
since VIC parted, and yet life is for her one sunny
| dream. May she long be left TO bless the hearts
| that love her! And there was another a fare
well sonnet addressed in sporiye mood to Irene,
! by one whose future seemed all bright and JOY
ous: for he was then on the eve of cmbarking
| for the distant shores OF his native land whence
| he had been lon. an exile. Bat, how many fond
| hopes are here destined to be bighted! He
never reached his home-thc mothers kindly
welcome, and the sisters gentle greeting, he
might not hear again. On desert isle, washed
by the ocean wave, he sleeps alone, where but
a simple stone tells that che lived and died.
Upon the next that | opened were traced the
sweet and touching words Of one iondlv loved
for years, and not forgotten now. Hers was a
sisters place within my heart, and oft since we
parted have unused on the changing scenes of
her young life. A mothers love it was not hers
to know. Like the dimly pictured vision of Il
dream seemed the memory of a dark and drcary
hour, when she stood beside that mothers bier,
murmuring her name in vain. She often told
me Other childhood, how she scarcely won the
love of some kindly spirit, when called upon to
sever the newly formed tie. She had dwelt in
many lands, and each was endeared by pleasing
associations. When met her she was the centre
Of gay and joyous throng,--the bright and
| beautiful child OF iortune-thc Young hcireSs OF
bread demesnes. | watcher her in the festal
scene, where many heart had owned the power
Of her lovelncss, and as marked the changine
light Of those expressive features, | wonder ed
| not that many lingerer sought 10 look on her
yet once again. But when, in the quiet circle
| Of home, she seemed to throw around her the
spell Of light and loneliness, winning the hearts
of the aged and the young--when | heard her
| gentle voice whispering words of sympathy to
south the mourner's grici-whcn she watched
by The couch Of sickness, striving to soothe the
| suffering and afflicted ones Of earh,-then did
feel she was being worthy to be loved; and
with all the deep devotion of sister did | look
on thai fair gill. But when | had learned tc
love her most we parted. On that tiny sheet
were fond assurances that was remembered
STILL and sadly laid it aside, yet hoping with hel
that we soon might meet again.
And there the name Of one on whom sor
row never more shall bight,-- one who "lullet
my cradle slcrp,' but passed away ere hal
learned 10 lisp her name. A bright spirit Ions
since fed TO realms beyond the ken of norta
sight. lis strange; and yet mclhinks thu
young, the loved, the beautiful the soonest fad,
and die. She feared not to tread the dark val
ley, for well had She conned the PAGE that tell.
fed, and the lone hearts still must weep for the
''loyed and early lost;' yet sweet are the hope.
whic! she hath left us, bidding
''Ihc broken hcalt lean on The promise of God
The bruised spirit kiss, with submission, the rod
And will keep those treasured words shrined in
my innosl heart, and when sorrow has left it.
trace upon my brow, and the world seems colo
and drcary, will lnger still where once she
dwelt and deem her spirit lowering near to bles.
her child. Where she knelt in prayer, there
viii bend the knee, pour out the full heart:
suppllca'lon, that may go forth more pure, fol
having worshpped there.
Many a scene rose up before me, as l locke,
on each familiar name.
But there was yet another, which walked the
tide OF grief within my soul. 1t was swce
and simpeappelation, but one that ever broush
her who bore il to my side. and wildly recalled
the fair child, whose smile was wont 10 bcguil,
my weary hours. And fondly treasure up each
tone and look Of hers, for the smile is missing
now, and thc voice is hushed within our home
The Hight form has vanished from our dwelling
and we watch in vain for her coming. Tia,
name is seldom whispered now, for when We
think Of her there is sadness in each heart, tho
she dwells in heaven.
y light thing seems it thus to read cold letters;
but they bring back many scene Of other days
and with reverent gaze, we. place them with
our treasures, fondly cherishing them for the
sake of those who sometimes come to us in
dreams whispering Of heaven and the angels.
Nj. M.
WOMEN AND NEwsPApER.-A face