Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1853-06-03
,..Iee.a d, .lIs n ord aid The Gross.
s. kLMA SOUTH.

he 4
,ge ripiing waters, and throwing veil OF light
e IN Tho flushed and sleeping earth. The spirit OF
" = broad. deep, unbroken quiet. ls IS a night
INK sorrowingly on the long absent tits night
- unhidden tears rush to the eyes, and they
Be" or for the loved dead. 1t is night to think
veg as departed high aspirations crushed by the
aOr;col wheels of stern necessity; of love grown
81 md friendships gone. 1t is night when Mem
~ onens her volume. and by the moons light we
"a The record of the past.
"a sucf night passed from earth to Heaven one
, gi worlds Ioveliest children, Wayworn she
,,nevcd through life, fainting and weary at the
Oyy,son she found the Cross, and that Cross gave
strength to mount to heaven.
Eimoloda shall | tell thy history! thou of the
'at strange name' Shall tell Of thy hopes.
Vars. thy weary search for that white winged
.a called happiness. that has but one home. and
~ home heaye Shall | tell how thou didst
a0J every sea, but found depth, until the cryS-
Y waters Of heaven broke thy sight? Yes lei
Y trace thy progress through the world, and may
n earth's weary children take comfort. when they
y how thy spirits ycarnlnSs at last 1ouhd " the
fgness of content"
Looking with retrospective glance, see young
ri She stands on the platform of the far past
h beauty hers save the beauty of youth. and no
race save that of free, happy girlhood. TO her
tired heart the world is filled with flowers and
,nshine and Sorrow and Death seem but two grim
badows in far off land shadow that she doubts
bpir ever having substance. And as she looks up
n the overarching skies. over whose blue surface
hat slow sailing, silvery clouds she thinks, oh
Tho yvould exchange this glorious world with it's
rn, hearts and its thousand pleasures, for
bat beautiful heaven with its brilliant company of
lessed angels.
Time wore on, and this young girl knew no
ows-and if ever shadow fell on her path, it
,oe from an underlined feeling, that had no name.
There was world of poetry sleeping in the cham
or, of her heart, that awaited but the magic touch
arouse il into musical life. Knowing nought of
the precious Jewels of thought that she bore about
her, she went on her way careless and happy.
But at length, there awoke in her heart one feel
mo still more delightful than the rest,-that feeling
ras Youthful love--youhful love, that wonderful
Magician, whose wand can turn to diamonds the
rmmon pebbles of every day life That love stir
ed the deep fountains of feeling within her soul it
used the slumbering spirit of Poesy, that nestled
nshed from her lips. Oh! how still more satisfy
,.nOw appeared the glorious earth but one more
Up was wanting in the jewelled cup of happiness.
make it overflow its brim. But to whose chalce
earthly JOY ever comes that one little drop To
me of earths children, or else would they more
ably cling TO world that could afford them per-
,t happiness. The deep love that trembled on
odias lips, never found utterance save in poetry,
nd to her came not from him she loved those cheer
p words, " thou art loved even as thou lowest" -
nly the one drop was wanting to make her cup of
appness overflow
Then restless yearnng after something
1me-she would try the world, the gay world of
ivolity and mad pleasures. On with The Dance .
vas her constant cry, as unwearied, she trod the
idy round of the glittering ball room. Night af-
night she outdanced the holy stars when morn
Big broke cold and grey the quiet EARTH weared
nd saddened she stole to her rest. But can the
ivOous god of pleasure whose throne is reared
mid the ball rooms blaze, testow real happiness
nhi8 giddy votaries 4! Oh, no. or else Nelodia
Fould not have turned away. and in her still un-
phod birStf hopo ;Sf,.
ng unsatsfying"
She had run the giddy round of pleasure, to
What must she turn :! Love had not satisf d
glOngng heart, for unrequitted it had cast but
hadows there All she still had unexplored
line of hope and happiness. whose golden ore
DuId purchase that which could satisfy her {" i'm.
arta lodgings"
She would turn to her own heart, and draw from
thence such life pictures that the world would at
once recognize the truth of her mission. But the
world is slow to appreciate, and the lights of fame
bmgh near seeming, are really far distant stars
My to be reached by laborious climbing, and no
lVays then, for they Oftener shine over mans grave
ban his life.
Melodia was not prepared for the manifold sacrif
E that a literary life requreS-the isolation, the
hitting GU, As it were, of the very sunshine of heav
s-lhat we may work in undsturbed quiet the in
SSant brain labor that knows no rest ; the conemp
she utilarans Of The earth and the gross miscon.
aFOns of the music of the heart Had Nicholas
ar been touched by living fire from heaven? Had
he the divine JUNCTION that strengthens the fainting
Al and enables it to work undismayed through
corn and neglect All no, she had never felt, as i
as been elOquently said that 4" it is enough for IL:
bat our law is 10 work out our endowments. ant
lat the developments of individual gifts is tn.
idure OF nature destined no less to an intellectual
IAN 10 a moral Immortality" She had never felt tina
lie had endOwments 10 be worked out" and mint
aperlshable and immortal. The golden gates Of song
eneu easily Tor her. and she wandered caree<sIy
md land of loneliness but she brought not from
Fnce any of those passion flowers of feeling tina
low hgh up on the rock of bitter experience. Wear
with efforts that met no sympathy, song lost it
aSc' and through her harp there swept one long
not note, that walled out " unsatisfying, unsatisy
She turned her weared gaze TO the past-whot saw
aeihere The faced garlands of hope, and the wan
stars of high ASPIRATIONS, and amid all this ruiz
ere cleaned not one ray of perfect happiness " Ira
she murmured, have mistaken my mission
a Father in Heaven what is it :; am to pass from
lei 10 Death, from Time TO Eternity, without leaving
e trace Of my existence here, one good or gloriou
"a That can be set up as blessed memorial of ston
0Rg The paths of time" All, me it was piercing
Of anguish that went up from Meodias unsatis
Ai heart
Then come fearful time when the spirit lay toss
Y on the black waves of Despair, and the grave wa
ft%nng, and there was no hope beyond. Oh! ter
"e hours when the soul could not see TO grope III
SS HMough the Cimmerian darkness that surrounded
MI D ' al length there came blessed light, ant
rue happiness.
~ IN n ye to whom the privilege is given.
rr, - ol'Ng 10 each bosom message from God -
men Ina. message is fraught with the eloquenc,
Gis tho ,o Wha mighty power is thine TO wake
m ~ 0 pa currents OF the heart,-to silver Il
III 5 }nS black waters of Despar-to point to thu
r benoa, T' can IN LIES DESERT running pure
r beneath the shadow of the Cross,-and to leat
e ~ SOUL painting for the water brooks of ever
Hssran Ie' up to the refreshing streams whose source