The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1854-10-14
A SKETCH FROM LIFE.
BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

around me- and which has called forth the cN-
uusitc description Of our gifted country,nan.
brings also to my mimi the recollection of one
as fresh and BEAUTIFUL, lin the days that arc
gone" well remember how the sense OF that
morns exceeding lovclincsS burdcncd my
heart with sweet wcight-and how at last
linging aside the dull book which had at
tc,n,tcd to study, | caught my light sun bon
net. and bounded out Of The house, with out
ward beauty and bloom had rendered prison
like. then turned my S:cps towards line
old mansion the home of u very lovely girl
who had been cillcarcd to me by years OF
constant and intimate in crcourSc. vi late
there has been formed new tic to bind orr
hearts: she had he .onc the bctroihcd OF lone
of ours" a favori;c cousin, and the engage
mcnt was u joyful one to all concerned.
Annie Moore, sweet Annie Moore; how
thou oldest before me, in thy soft ethereal
lovclincss, like a gentle spirit from holicr
cline! With thy form Of lily like grace, tall
and fragile
with all thy young hcad's shining bands,
And all its waving curlS of 2'd
with thine eyes of softcst violet. and thy
check of delicate rose bloom
mast think Of thee,
oh contest as knew thee well and long.
a yndng glad creature with lip Of song.
An eye uf radiance. and a soul u, ( &C
Singing sweet snatchcs ri Sunic t;Nor'c tinc.
Or wandering by my 4!'lc beneath the sky o. June.
William Gordon. the lover of Annie Moore,
was an exalted, yet most lovcable character,
an cmbodmcnt If intellect inanlincSs, faith
full affections and trrvcnt picty. lie was n
Young student of ,livinitv--ha,l been self sup
~ trl lat llut ~,
of the commencement of this sketch was i'll
the expectation of entering upon the ministry
in the course of a year.
And this man poor, unknown and devoted
to holy calling was the choice of Annie
Moore. the wealthy, the beautiful, the luxu-
rio,sly reared! Twas passing strangc-onr
circle gosSippcd about the matter fora month
or two, and then the rulcd tide of our village
flowed on as usual. But was on my way
to pay Annie a morning visit. William Cor
don had called the night before, to bid us
and thought his bctrothcd needed IL little
cheering up.
] found her sitting at her work as usual
and but slight ucmulolSncSS Of the voice,
and a ylstcnny uf the long brown eye lash,
tolu vi tne lailiiei Iaili'S "Hi.'i ia" '""e''
place.
when will William return?' present
ly inquired.
..In May little less than one year"
And then Z"
And then we are to be marricd-so hold
yourself in readiness to be my bfidcmaid.
The summer passed, season of earnest,
untring, and praycrful toll, with the young
student, and patient, hopeful, and sustaining
love on the part of his bctrothtd. Then came
the chill Of autumn, followed by n winter OF
uncommon severity. Our dear Annie, while
ON a night visit to Il dying friend, was expo
Scd to u sudden and fearful Storm-took cold
--ah, does my reader anticipate the mourn
full consequence Her mother and elder sis
ter had died Of consumption and soon, very
soon the seal of death was on her blue VEIN
cd brow and the very voice of the grave sound
ing in the cough which shook her fragile
frame. We knew that she must die. and
she, like many conSumptivcs, knew 1t also;
yet she was strangely avcrsc to acqnainlinG
her absent lover with the fearful truth. She
wrote to him that she had been il-was still
suffering from debility: but that he must not
be troubled about 1t, nor be painfully surprl,
scd by her changed appearance. when ne
should return in the spring. Not one word
of the dread, last parting before them Of the
grave which might
..Riva, the bridegroom and take from his si'lc
The pose in its bosom. his beautiful bride
At length May came around again, and
with it returned William Gordon, the young
clergyman. lie was bowed to earth by the
great and unlocked for atilction which await.
Il Il,
for his God had mingled it.
Sweet Annie was passing rapidly from
carth-growing more and more frag in form
and angelic in spirit day by day and poor
William became intensely DESTROYS that thcil
union might take place. Annic's friends
readily aS>cntcd but she to our surprise Fl.
naly refused to grant the mournlul request
of her biokeahcartcd lover.
One evening he was sitting alone by her
side. as she was half reclining on couch
the hectic flush was more startling bright
than usual on her check, for she had suffered
much that day, and as he thought how very
near might be the dark wing of Gods dread
angel, he took her wasted hand in his, and
said
"Oh, my Annie. let me call you wife be.
fore you leave me. You would not he so ut.
tcrly lost to me then. for would know you
bearing that sacred name in Heaven. Refuse
me not love-"
"Oh, William, William, urge me no Ion.
GER she replied, ait must not, cannot he
| am the bride of Heaven, you must not be
my husband, and hear me, dearest. you mus,
no longer be near mc-your love is precious
but it is earthly. and comes As cloud be-
tween me, and the glorics of that upper world
to which hasten. Your voice my own is
swcctcr to me than the hymns of angels,
heard in my dreams Of heaven! We must
part, new-.ror every hour renders you dear.
or, and how can leave you at last.
With heroic and martyr like calinncss
spoke the mistaken sirl--mistakcn, fora pure
love. for one worthy. is the hottest and sweet
est preparation for His presence who is love-
William Gordon saw her tirmncss, and that
she was weak and trembling from the excite
,ncnt of the sccNc, and
I'm close heart shutting up his pain
resolved to yield instant and uncomplainns
obedience to her wishes. lie rose up calmly
and imprinted on her forehead kiss OF mn
gled love and anguish, turned and was gone
Annie buried her face in her thin white hands
and remained in agony of grief. Then came
vague regrets Tor the course she had taken
anu poinfur doubts Of the necessity of thu
sacrifice she had Enthusiastically she hcart