The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1853-05-05
The Dead Wifa.

In comparison with the loss of q wife, all other
hereavements are trihes. The wife she who
his SO large u space in the domestic heaven
she who is so busted. 50 unwearioa IA lahoring
for the precious around nrr; bitter. tier is
the that falls upon her cold claw You stand
beside her coffin and think OF the past Ii seems
an amber cOlored pathway, where the sun shone
upon beautiful flowers, or the stars hung glitter
ing overhead. Fain would the soul linger
there. No thorns are remembered above that
sweet clay, save those your head may have un-
Willingly planted. Her noble tender heart, lies
open to your inmost sight. You think of her
as all gentleness. MI beauty AMI purity.
But she is dead The dear head that laid up
on your bosom, rests in the still darkness upon
pillow of clay. The hands that have ministered
untiringli, are folded white and cold, beneath
the gloomy portals. The heart whose every
beat measured an eternity of love, lies under
your feet. The flowers she bent over with smiles,
bend now above her with tears, shaking the
dew from their petals that the verdure around
her may be kept green aRd beautiful.
Many II husband may read this in the silence
of broken home. There is no white arm over
your shoulder no speaking face to look up in
the eye of love; no trembling lips to murmur
-"Oh il is sad.'
The little one whose nest death has rifed.
gazes in wonder at your solemn face, puts up
his tinny hand to stay the tears. and then nes-
ties back to his fathers breast, half conscious
that the wing that sheltered its most fondiy IS
broken.
There is SO strange a hush in every room no
light footsteps. No smile to greet you AT night
fall And the old clock ticks and strikes and
ticks lit was such music when she could hear
it Now i, seems TO knen the hours through
wbich ypu watche the shadows OF death gather
ing upon her sweet face!
1t strikes one the fatal time when the. death
warrant rang out-.-there is no hope" Two
she lies pncidly stil-sometimes smiling family,
-
read the valley Of the II aCow. Three lie
babe has been brought in. its little face laid on
her bosom for the last time. Four her breath
becomes fainter. but n heavenly JOY irradiates
her brow. Five There is a slight change
. THAT she might live Faith er spare her.
''Taiy will be done"
Il was her soft broken accents. Yes Hehv-
enly Friend. who gavest her to bless me-Thy
will be done
Six! there are footsteps near. Weeping
friends around She bids them farewell as she
murmurS, '.meet me in heaven The damp
drops gather upon her pallid features ut the
seventh hour She lies very still sometimes
she hears sweet music Eight passes away so
gently But her hand yet clings TO Nours. and
40 she lies while that old house clock tolls forth
nine ten eleven. twelve-solemn strokes. You
spring to your feet. The lips are stiil-cold 10
your Iips The small hand has fallen back ; its
touch grows icy. She is gone. She viii never
speak to ynu again on earth. You must bear
that cold gaze that love so lately kindled-and
you fall weeping by her side
And every day that clock repeats that old sto-
rv. Many another tale it telleth too-of joys
past-of sorrows share 4. of beautiful words and
deeds that are registered above. You feel-O!
how often, that the grave cannot keep her
You know she is in happier world. yet that
sometimes she is by your side, an angel pes
ence You look at your innocent babe. and
think that seraph is guarding it. Cherish
these emotions, they will make you happier
Let her holy presence be Il charm 10 keep you
from evil In all new and pleasant connections.
give her spirit a place in your heart. Never
forget what she has been 10 you-that she has
loved YOU BE tender of her memory so may
von meet her with soul unstained-a bright
and beautiful spirit bride, where one shall
s,vonv more forever. .'she is dead. Hrs.
Dsnn[s7R-O Oiiue branch.