The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1852-05-27
From TIE Huntsville Times.
The Dying Wife.

And ever hath been, from our childhood up,
To us, what yon blue sky is to the earth;
The beauty, and the glory Of 1.-THE
FOrerer DER as, ereT 9rd{ctf1lg eye.
'Tis when such day is dying, that those hues
Unmatched and burning deeper on her cheek,
In bright intensity. And when we see
The glory are do kTO1c that darkness lies
Not far And when we see upon the cheek.
OF one beloved, that herald rose, we know
The sun Of life goes down behind the tomb
A strange mild light cleaned DER the night
time of
Her eyes, those dove-eyes, dreamy, beautiful.
Upon one tiny hand, her burning cheek
Was resting, and the other sweetly fair
Was pressed upon the Quiv'ring lips of him
Who knelt beside her, like storm rocked oak,
Whose giant arms writhe in their trial fierce,
And moan to the rude blast, which tears away
The tender ivy, that grew up, and threw
Its graceful loving arms about 1t, and
Bedecked ''its rough bark sweetly oer." Upon
His cheek there were no tears, nor in those eyes
Where woes hot drop seemed burning; but a
look
OF sgonized affection swept his brow,
And scattered desolation in its track.
The morning breeze, sweet with the charities
OF flowers, through his clustering chesnut hair
Played like n dewy-fngered angel: yet
Dropped not its blessed balm upon his brain.
The Sllken laShe6 Tor moment SlepI
Upon her check, as the summit clouds
The tree-tops slumber dark and still; one soft
Bright tear stole through the wa1en lid, and
wound
Its silverv path along her check and then
She felt it gently kissed away, and Oped
Those eyes to bless him with their tenderness
Untold. He silent read the midnight page,
And loved her more-far more than life itself.
Throw back the curtain, Edward, let me see
Once more the lovely earth, and smiling sky.
There, sit thee down again; and give me tack
Thy hand, mine own, ] may not ask it long.
Soon, very soon my pulse will cease to leap
At thy fond pressure,-ah, It's strange, me-
thinks,
| That cen in death, thy clasp should not awake
| The sleeping nerve, and bid it leap and thrill,
! As does the summer-wind awake the vine,
To wave its dark green boughs upon the air.
| And soon viii thy warm kisses fall upon
cold unheeding brow, it's strange, that thou
| Gould, st ever kiss me, and smile not.
The sunshine never yet hath kissed the sea,
! But it hath been rewarded by a smile,
| And thou art sunshine, and uiH Sunshine be,
| HHea no more am left for thee TO shine
| Upon. Then will not my cold brow grow warm
| And glad beneath thy foni and dear caress
| ThOu'lt CALL and Eva viii not answer more
Can deaths cold ear, be deaf and dull when
Art calling? Scarcely I believe it,-yet
l kno1c, that am dying; and that soon
| They'll lay me down within the damp dark.
| earth,
Where l no more can see thee ah methinks,
If thou could st look upon me, even there,
| The shades would scatter. Thou hast never
| bent
Thine eyes upon me, but to give me light.
And is the grave more mi ghty than thy smile
All ! me, it is fearful thing to die,
With human love so wildly pressing through
/ Our bosoms. 1t is very hard to 90
| When thou art near me, and the coils of life
So fearfully restrain their hold on thee
And cling till deaths sharp scythe, snaps one
| by one ..
Asunder. Ere knew thee, death had not
Unwelcome been, but thou hast frightened life
Until l fear to turn away from its
| Glad waters. Thou hast made life here almos
| Life yonder +; now to die when have found !
| Thee; this, this is q trial sore. Yet God
Appoints it, and know my spirits wings
| Are plumcd for fight, unto that better world
! Where Jesus is. would not stay away;
| Though thou hast made existence beautiful
! Yet will leave it for those happier bowers,
Since Jesus calls. The parting will be short
l know that thou wilt meet me soon. Hos
| s1ceet
! Eternity sciy be beside thee e'er''
She ceased-the cold death damp stood on he
| brow, %
Like night-dews on whitening lly-leaf.
The rose died out upon her cheek, and death
Once more hung out his banner; and this time
Twas pale, and chill, and still. The flick rims
| breath
! Passed through the parted lips, more faintl.
still; ..
The hand relaxed its heart-warm clasp, and al
| Save that dark eye seemed swiftly passing
To the silent land yet, it was full of light,
And love, as is the midnight full of stars
| She died one bitter moan burst from the lips
OF him, whose brow was but less pale than tha
Other who in her beauty, and her still
Repose before him lay All me it is
| A bitter, dark-some, hour when all we love
! Is melting from our arms. To stand upon
The brink, and see loved one mid the waves
! And feel arms too short TO Sdce this, this
is madness, which our God alone can soothe.
The morning winds played round her marbl
brow,
And kissed her chill, pale cheek, yet woke he
not;
1t trembled through her wealth Of night-lk
| hair,
1 n l1t- ftol +Io