Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1854-07-14
11oetrp.
Beautiful Poem.

Beautiful Poem.
The Home Jou ina gives brief biogrsphic.
al sketch Of Fanny Forester" from which we
extract suilic ent 10 explain the following ex.
quists beautiful lines:
"Beforo saying the few words by which we
would recall the points other varied life TO our
readers, let us give enc OF the drops Of agony
wrung from this heaven child, while here on
trial-a poem write for her mothers eye on
ly, and cerntiuly the most manifest first breat
of SOULS uuerance that we have ever seen in
human language. 1t was cent to us some years
ago, by one of her friends, under seal Of pri-
vacy which we presu me is removed by her
death. She wrote it W lille at Maulmain the
missionary station in India, at which che had
been left by her dying husband, br Judson,
when he embarked on ne arly hopeless voy-
age for heath. At The date of this poem, he
had been four months dead, although it was
ten days before the sad news was com munica-
ted to her:
SWEET MOTHER.
The wild southwest monsoon has risen,
With broad, gray wings Of gloom,
While here, from out my dreary prison,
look as from tomb Alas!
My heart another tomb.
Upon the low thached roof, the rain
With ceasles pditer falls;
My choicest treasures be ar its stains;
Mould gathers Oh the wall =; would heaven
'Twere only on the wals
Sweet mother, | am here alone,
In sorrow aud in paih:
The sunshine from my heart has A own;
|; feels the driving raiu-Ah, me!
The chill, and mould, and raj u.
-Four lagCard months have whe eed their
Since love upon it smiled, round,
And everything of earth has frowned
On thy poor stricken child, sweet friend,
Thy weary, suffering child.
I'd watched my loved one night and day,
Scarce bren thing when he slept,
And as my hopes were swept away,
I'D in his bosom wept-Oh God!
How had prayed and wept!
And when they bore him to the ship,
saw the white sails spread,
kissed his epeechless. quvering lip,
Aud let him on his bed. "A as!
1t seemed coliih bed.
When from my gentle sisters tomb,
Long since, in tears, we came,
Thou saidst. GLOW desnlate each room!"
Well, mine were Just the sldi- that ddy, -
The very, very same.
Then mother little Churly came,
Our Desuiilu fair boy,
With my own fathers cher ished nam g;
But obi he brought 40 j"y-my child
brought mourning and no JOY.
Ris little grave | cannot see,
Though weary months have sped
Since piiying lips h-nt over me-,
Aud whispered. ''Ile is DEADLY Mother.
lis dreadful TO be dead!
do not maon for one like me-
so weary, worn and weak
Deaths shadowy paIeness seems TO he
Fen nov upon my ch-ek--his seal,
On form, aud brow, and cheek.
But for bright winged bird like him,
To hush his joyous song,
And prison-d in coffin dim,
Join Deaths pale phantom throng-my boy
To join that grizzly thrOug
Oh, mother, can scarcely bear
To think Of this to day!
If was 80 exqdis!tc'y fair,
That little form Of cay-my heart
Still fingers by his clay.
Aud when for one loved far, far more,
Come thckly. gathering tears,
My star Of faith is clounded o'rr,
sink beneath my fears, sweet friend,
My heavy weight Of fear.
Oh, but to feel thy fond arms twins
Around me Once again!
1t almost seems hose lips of thins
Might kiss away the pain-might oothe
This dull cold, heavy pain.
But, gentle mother, through HES storms,
may not lean on thee;
For helpless, covering little iorms
Cling ustlng TO me-poor babes!
To have no guide bur me.
With weary feet and broken wing,
With bleeding heart aud sore,
Thy dove looks backwards sorrowing,
But seeks the ark no mOre-thy breast
Seeks never, never more.
Sweet mother, for thy wuaderer pray,
That loftier faith may he gwen;
Her broken reeds all swept away,
That she may lean on Ileveu-her heart
Grow strong in Christ aud Heaven.
Once, whe u young Hopes fresh morning dow
Lay sparkling on my breast,
My bounding heart thought but To do,
TO irork at Heavens behest-my pain
Come at the same behest.
All ieariully, all tearfuly,
Alone aud sorrowing,
My dim eve lifted to the sky,
Fast TO the Cross cling-Oh Christ!
To thy dear Cross cling.
MAULMAIV, Aug. z, 1850.
OF the hymns in the human language f.,
he soul oHi-few and holy aud full of me aning
Is the commnndments-thi is Que.
Mrs Judstn. by her genius, is incidentally
,He Of the worlds memorable ones. To re-
igious class, also, of which her husband was
hining prophet, her memory will be dear
But there are those who look for bright ones
'mong the pilgrims on that path oftria by the
world unseen-the soul sore aud heart wTung,
With the higher sensibilities that are alive to
IN angels scope of agony. She will be, by
hese, recognized and remembered. Sacred
'e the spot where rests what has so suffered
md won"
WHAT PICrURE-We clip the following
rom the local column of the Wheeling