The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1852-01-10
For The Cecil Wing.
The Strangers Voice.

Year!'-to thee, and those whose low voices
come TO us here, through the dim vista Of space,
like the unlurgoticn music Of hearts tlat shall
thrill to ours, pcrchance no more on Earth!
The voicress Night is all around,
And earth's great heart is still.
And Memory from her thiall unbound,
Goes wandering wild, at will.
Ii roveth, in the hours that were,
Der childhood's sunny plain,
Where sleep its carly Joys, so fair,
~ nj nc'er shall wake again
And ah | remember me now, rs Thought
comes up from The Past, laden with the bright
things ofyore, bearing the insignia of bliss upon
It's shalowless brow, how, in our early home in
the sweet sunny South, away, we were wort to
cluster, loving band ofwalchin" hearts, AROUND
the little altar Of the dear old Chapel in the
pretty village OF -, and list for the FIST
whisper of the young br idegroom as he came on
from the burial of the Old Year, with the soft
stars holding their tiny tapers trcm the cloudess
skies, TO tighten his dim pathway down to the
decp-vcled Earth. And ali remember, too,
the bright Chances and loving tones that wclcd
up from happy hearts when the midnight hell
sent forth its silvcry chime, prcclaiming with its
last deep note, to the attendant spirits Of Time,
"it i>done." And there were lovely smiles fiCm
rosy lips, ana gentle pressnrcs from trembling
hands, As Tic glad wish ioated out upon the
nlgkt-brcezc, from the warm fame of faithful
hearts that nom lie throbless and cold beneath
the dust Of years! And here in the deep, hush
cd night, with the wings oi Memory folding to
our dreaming heart all the beautiful of years,
that sleep within our chidhood's home, never
To wake again! we lave sat lonely watcher to
catch the last sigh tf pale child If Years, as
the spirits of iniinily lifted It's dying form over
the walls Of Time and the surf of Eternity 5
ness! We have dreamed dream OF the Past.
We have wandered, with the sunny light Of
childhood upon our brow, through the old ia
milar woodland, with its shining waters and
ambrosial shadcs-we Lave bounded over the
green meadows, vocal with the guSh Of chill lisl.
glec. and nestled all noisclcssly amid the thick
vines of a secure retreat, striving to still the
throbhings OF our nuttcring heart, as the bright
eyes Of Alice, our own lovely Alice. broke, like
a morning beam, between the parted leaves, and
srramblng away from the cool shade we beat
ha<ly retreat to the echoing music of her ringing
laugh. Bnt the fnse print Of years has sullicd
the purity of tina, stainesS leaf young If, for
the wheels of Time have rolled over that gentle
heart, crushing out it's soft music, and "sweet
Alice lies under the sione!"
We have fingered, too, beside the holy alter
Of tina, oil brown church, with another, dear TO
our heart in the days of old, and heard again the
low vow that bound her "tor veal or for woe
TO proud bold ono, the chosen Of her trusting
hrat. And we have gone with her along the
pathway of after years, and seen the bright
wreath, clasped by the soft hands of Hope and
Love, around her fair brow, wither flower by
flower, till the light oflle seemed almostqucnch
ed in raylcss gloom! Alas! poor Ida sad was
her fate, and ruthless the hand that tore the
chaplct OF Joys from the youthful brow Of her
we loved in by-gone hours!
All. many are the dim memories that come
crowJing about our heart, in the lone watches
of the deep night And many bright and holy
creep in through the mist of thought. to relieve
the ebon hue of the Past, and bestar the twilight
veil that shuts out the untried Future. The
future, soft eyes peep out from its cu tain-folds,
with gladstone glances, and low whispers break
upon the hearts stiffness, waking the immortal
principle of hopcfu!ness that God has implanted
in the bosom ofevery child of mortality. And
thus it is, when the darklng shadows OF LIES
changes gather around the soul, and its sweetest
joys look up through the long line of the Past,
the star of "ctcrnal Hope" gems the horizon of
the Future, and sheds its silver beam DER our
onward way! Aid when the freed wings of the
spirit huttcr away from the troubous things of
Time, and fold peacefully up in far land where
changes come not, and Hope in fruition fades,
ali then, dear "Ellcn Grey it is "swcct to
dream" We do not know you, fair maiden; we
have never looked upon your pure brow, or met
the meek glance of your gentle eye, but we
have heard the low whispers of your warm
heart and ours has gone out at those tones, with
sistcrly love for the young minstrel. Fair be
the hours the young Year shall fling around thy
way, dear Ellen, and may the soothing strains Of
ahy rich harp-chords cheat his heart of sorrow
! think me now Of one who has ssdallied in the
vallies of feeling md afIcction'-one whom I'M
seen we knom, for the heart leaves its impress
upon the page of communion and cannot veil its
true image when Thought is the mirror in
which it is reflected. We have a warm, kind
thought of that one, and when the flowers of
Summer peep forth with eyes oflovc, and snowy
buds hang all gitterins with dew, would we
Irvine a wreath for one dear TO that heart, in a
happy home away-one who hut few short
months has worn the bridal circlet.