Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1853-02-02

Hoor, UNKNOWN.
A little girl was going to school -.
A sweet child, called Isabel;
She soothed the pilgrim by the pool,
And besought him his grief to tell,
Isabel,
Softly asked she with voice divine, ~ tf
Why so lonely hast thou wandered hither;
Hast no home 2-then come with me to mine;
There's our cottage, let me lead thee thither,
Why repinef rIirE.r
Angel, said he sadly, am old:
| Earthly hope no longer hath q morrow,
Yet why I sit here thou shalt be told;
Then his eye betrayed pearl of sorrow;
-'- Down it rolled. --.
| I have tottered here to look once more
On the pleasant scene where delighted
In the careless, happy days of yore,
Ere the garden of my heart was blighted
To the core!
All the picture now to me how dear!
Fen this gray old rock where 1 am seated,
Seems jewel worth my journey here;
All, that such a scene should be completed
With tear.
Old stone School house lit is still the same:
There's the very step oft mounted;
There's the window creaking in its frame,
And the notches that cut and counted
For the game.
In the cottage yonder l was born;
Long my happy home-that humble dwelling
There the fields of clover, wheat and corn,
There the spring with limpid nectar swelling,
All, forlorn!
There's the orchard where we used to climb
When my mates and were boys together,
Thinking nothing of the flight of time,
Fearing nOught but work and rainy weather;
Past its prime!
There the rude three-cornered chestnut rails,
Round the pasture where the focks are grazing
Where 50 sly used to watch for quaiIs
In the crops of buekwheat We were raising
Traps and trails.
How in summer have traced that stream
There through mead and woodland sweetly gil
ding.
I.urtng simple trout with many a scheme,
From the hooks where had found them hiding
All dream!
Pond and river still serenely flowing,
Cot, there nesting in the shaded lane,
Where the lilly of my heart was blowing:
Mary Jane!
There's the gate on which used to swing,
Brook, and bridge, and barn, and old red stable
But, alas the morn no more shall bring
That dear group around my fathers table;
Taken wing!
am fleeing all loved are fed;
Yon green meadow was our place for playing;
That old tree can tell of sweet things said.
When around it Jane and were straying;
She is dead
Yon white spire-a pencil on the sky,
Tracing silently life's changeful story,
So familiar to my dim old eye,
Points me to seven that are now in glory
There on high!
OFT the aisle of that old church we trod,
Guided thither by an angel m other,
Now she sleeps beneath its sacred sod,
Sire and sisters, and my little brother;
Gone to God!
There heard of,wisdom's pleasant ways;
Bless thy holy lesson but, ah, never
Shall hear again these songs of praise,
Those sweet>voices silent now foreverl
Peaceful days!
There my Mary blest me with her hand,
When our souls drank in the nuptial blessing
Ere she hastcued the spirit land:
Yonde - {iAotle bosom pressing:
LPro9ss, 92,Ithsken band
ri hS' se15 [1iDss 5he c
I haye.ss nat grave once more,
And sSl 80 We where we deli lighted
whGn. we yySrsn1Pped in tho days of yore
Ere tlls garden of my heart was blighsed
To the core!
Happy, ere the verdure there shall fade,
I, all whitening with years shall perish;
With my Mary may there be laid,
Join forever-all the wish 1 cherish
Her dear Shade!