Georgetown weekly news., 1854-12-14
Thoughts for Meditation.
BY FLORA D

"Fm array from home'-said Young
child Of scarce seven summers. whom [ met
in ramble one morning about two miles
from the city, as she raised her pale, fearful
| face to mine-"and I'm afraid I'll never see
pa and ma again" The poor child was
lost. and as L CHANGED to know her father,
and had heard Of the deep grief the loss Of
| the ''pet" had occasiOned, ! raised her in
my arms and placed her in a conveyance
that would leave her at her fathers door;
! as did so / could not help exclaiming,
precious lamb, thy pale face tells me that
thou art not long for this world; the Good
Shepherd" will ere long fold thee to his
breast, and then thou wilt no more say,
I'm away from my home"
"Im a1caY from mg home," cried wild
young man just entereng the city for the
| first time now I'm free from restraint No
mothers prayer can reach me here, no faith
er's stern command to obey, no sisters tear
full eye and pleading look to upbraid, no
brothers upraised hand to turn my steps
from pleasures path. 0, no. I'm away
from my home God help thee, poor young
man, for ere long thy heart in the bitterness
ofits woe, will exclaim, would God were
not away from my homen
"Fm array from my home," said dying
one, as only strangers stood by her bedside;
she had left her home trusting bride only
one short year before, all the fond hopes
that then sprung up in her heart had with
cred and died; the idol of her love had de-
serted her, and she was away from her
| home.
O! how earnestly did she pray that her
dear father and mother might be permitted
to stand by her in this last hour; but even
this boon was denied, and strangers closed
her eyes in death, and folded the pale hands
on her inanimate breast; and not one tear
was shed over the untimely death of the
fair young bride. But it matters not now
to her who stood by her side, or arrayed her
body for the grave She is at rest on the
| Savior's bosom, and will nevermore say
I'm away from my home"
"Im array from my hOme," said fond
father, as he leaned back in his chair at one
of our city hotels, one cold rainy morning;
all is lonely and desolate here, and long
once more to be in the country with my
dear wife and lovely children. Then he pic
lures to himself the great JOY that his return
will occasion in the hearts Of those loved
ones. Then he whispers to himself, as a
smile of joy lights up his noble features,
"only three days more and | shall again
clasp them to my heart" Poor man, it is
well for thee that thou canst not see the fu-
ture; thine eyes shall never gaze on those
loved faces again; thy mangled form alone
shall greet their watching eyes. God help
the widow and the fatherless.
"Im array from my home,' exclaimed a
pale young student, as he raised his bent
head, and pressed his hand upon his throb-
bing brow almost in agony; he gazed with
half bewildered look around his desolate
room; he had been engaged in study till the
eyelids dropped, the hands relaxed their hold
of the book from which he was studying,
and he had INDUCED himself with a dream
Of home; he had been again in the midst of
his friends, his mother had folded him to
her heart, and all had pressed kiss of well
come on the lips of the returned one, and
he was gaily chatting of his school days
(now over) when he had awaked to find it
all dream, and exclaimed, I'm away from
my h0me.' His lamp burns dim, and he is
weary, but his task is not complete, so he
studies on till the night is well nigh lost in
day; then instead ofretiring to rest, he takes
his lamp and seats himself by his trunk and
says half musingly, Il must gaze on some
dear remembrancer Of home before sleep.
He takes one after another Of the many to-
kens of love from home and friends, and
looks 1pon them with feelings of thankful
ness; he raises his clasped hands to Heaven
while something very like tear glistens in
his eye, he fervently thanks God for kind
and loving friends; then, without removing
MATTERS, on the Hill.
| Georgetown, Nov. 80, 1854. 7-2w