The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1852-02-26

ing across their CLASSY surface: and your dizzy
eye fastens upon the trail cookie sheils,-the
stout oarsmen dwindied to pgmies, that dance
like atoms upon the vast chasm,--or like your
own weak resolves, upon the whirl OF Time.
! Your thought, growing broad in the view,
seems to cover the whole area Of ife you set up
your affections and your duties; you build hopes
with fairy scenery, and away they all go, tossing
like the relentless waters to the deep gulf, that
gaps hideous welcome You sigh at your
weakness of heart, OF Of endeavor, and your
! sighs float out into the breeze that rises ever
from the shock of the waves, and whirl, empty
! handed, to Heaven. You ayow high purposes,
and clinch tnem with round Utterance; and your
voice, like a sparron's, is caught up III the roar
! OF the fall, and thrown at you from the cliffs,
| and dies away in the solemn thunders OF nature.
! Great thoughts of life come you-of its
work and destiny-of its affections and duties,
and roll down swift--like the river-into the
! deep whirl Of doubt and danger. Other thoughts
! grander and stronger, like the continuing rush
OF waters, come over you, and knit your pur
/ poses together with their weight, and crush you
! to exultant tears, and then leap, shattered and
! broken, from the very edge of your intent, into
, mists Of fear!
! The moon comes out, and cleaning through
| the Clouds braids its light fantastic bow upon
! the waters. You feel caImer the night deepens.
/ The darkness softens you; it hangs-like the
| pail that shrouds your mothers corpse,-lOw
| and heavily to your heart. 1t helps your inward
| grief, with outward show. II makes the
| earth mourner; II makes the flashing water
] If uolyo
the Great Fall itself nourner, and its roar-a
| requiem
| The pleasure Of travel is cut short. To one
person of the little company of fellow Yoyagers,
you bid adieu with regret; pride, love and hope
| point toward her, while all the genter affections
stray back TO the broken home. Her smile at
parting is very gracious, but il is not after all,
| such smile Your warm heart pines for.
| Ten days after, you walking atowafi the
| old homestead, with such feelings as it never
called up before. In the days Of boyhood, there
were triumphant thoughts of the gladness, and
! the pride, with which, when grown to the stature
| Of manhood, you would come back to that little
town Of your birth. As you have bent with
your dreamy resolutions over the tasks Of the
! eloister life, swift thoughts have focked on you
Of the proud step, and prouder heart, with which
you would one day greet the acquaintauccs of
boyhood; and you have RECALLED yourself OF the
jaunty manner with which you you'd meet old
Dr. Bidlow; and the patronizing air with which
i you would address the pretty bluc-eyed Madge.
1t is late in the afternoon when you come in
sight Of the tail sycamOres that shade your home;
you sLudder nov. LIST you may meet any whom
! l-rax Tbo first cr-ioF oF
seeks little Of the sympathy of companions: it
lies-with sensitive man,-bounded within the
narrowest circles of the heart They only who
hold the key to its innermost recesses can speak
consolation. Years win make a change as
! the summer grows in fierce heats the balminess
OF the vioict banks of Spring, is lost in the odors
a OF thousand flowers rs;-the heart, rs it gains IN
! age, loses freshness, but wins breadth.
, -Throw pebble into the brook at it's
source, and the agitation is terrible, and the rip
pies chafe madly their narrowed banks throw
in pebble when the brook has become river,
and you see few circles, widening and widen
ing, and widening, until they are lost in the gen
tie, every y-day murmur Of its lifel --" %
/ You draw your nat over your eyes as you
/ walk toward the familiar door; the yard is 81
lent; the night is falling gioomily few katy
E dds are crying in The trees The mothers win
i dow where-at such season as this it wa
her custom to sit watching your play, is shut
1 and the blinds closed overit The honey -suckie
r which grew over th. window, and which she
. loved so much has flung out its branches care
lessly; and the spiders have hung their foul nets
! upon its tendrils. Hia5fat T'aa
A i And she who made that home so dear TO yot,r
= boyhoed,-so real to your after ears,-stlnd-
ing amid all the fights of your youthful ambition
S and your paiitry cares, (or they seem paltry
a now) aud your doubts, and anzieties, and weak
: ness of heart, ike the light of your hope-burn-
a ing ever there, under the shadow of the syca-
: mores,-a holy beacon, by whose guidance you
,iialWays came TO sweet haven, and to q refuge
B from all your toils,-is gone,-gone forever, o.
the father is there indeed beloved, respect
, ed, esteemed; but the boyish heart, whose old
life is reViying, leans more readily, and
more kindly into that void, where once beat the
r heart Of a mother, ~ .-.--.-z .-,g .-r-r
4 +. Nelly is there cherished now with all the
added love that is stricken off from her who has
e left you forever. Nelly meets you at the door
Q -=--::. Clarence =, !, -, ,,.--..r- -, 3
> -------,'. Nelly - !, a.,,
e s There are are no other words; but you feel hel
: tears, as the kiassof welcome is. given Witt