Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1854-06-15
THE MOTHERS LESSON
a Story From a German Ballad
By EsEA SOUTH.

twas night, the star-gemmed and glitteripc
when bereaved mother lay tossing on her bed
in all the feverish restlessness of upsapctified
sorrow. Sleep had fed far from her weary eve
lids; and her grief-burdened heart refused to
send up from its troubled fountains the refresh
ing stream Of prayer.
The deep stiffness that rested on the husbed
earth was broken by those saddest of all sounds.
the bitter wailings of mother weeping for her
children, and ssrefusing to be comforted be-
cause they are not.''
son, Voc, woe is me!'' was the piteous cry
of that breaking heart, and the piercing sound
went up to the still heavens; but they looked
calmly down in their starry beauty and seemed
to hear it not
And thus slowly passed the long, weary hours
of the night, and naught was heard save the
solemn Ginning of the clock, telling, with iron
tongue, that man was drawing hourly nearer
to the quiet grave.
And as the mourner lay listening to Times
slow, measured strokes, memory was busy with
the images Of the loved and lost Again they
were before her in all their youthful beauty.
she heard their gleeful voices and felt their
fond caresses. The night wind swept cooling
~ into the easement. and, as it touched her
throbbing brow, it seemed like the soft kisses
of her loving children.
Poor mourner! Could earth furnish no ma
gle mirror in which thou couldest always thus
see the dead living? Oh, no! for as melts the
feecy cloud into the blue depths of heaven.
so passed away the blessed vision; and seeing
but the coffin and the shroud again arose on
the silent air those tones of despairing an
guish: <fWse is me, my sons are deadn'
Then softly and sweetly sounded forth the
matin chimes, blending their holy music with
the anguished cries of the bereaved mother
In the midst Of her sorrow, she heard the beII,s
sweet harmony, and, leaving her sleepless
couch, walked forth into the refreshing air.
Morning was breaking cold and gray over the
earth, and the stars We're growing pale at sbe
approaching step of the monarch of the day.
Slowly walks the moulner through the vet
sleeping woods, whose flowers are folded i'm
silence, and whose birds give forth no carols.
She reaches the antique church and enters the
sacred door mysterious Iight-ligllt that
is almost shade-is brooding over the holy
aisles, clothing in shadowy GARMENTS the pale
Il
of dimness the carved sepnlchres; throwing
strange CLEANS over the tall white columns:
and embracing, with pale arms, cross and pic
ture, and antique shrine. In the midst of this
mysterious light kneel silent company: each
head is bowed on the clasped hands. and no
sound is heard save a deep, far distant muir
muring, like the voice of the mighty wind
when it passes through the leaves of the dark.
old pines, dwelling IN some dim, solemn woods
Suddenly every head is lifted, and the mourn
er secs in that vast company friends who had
been sleeping long ages in the silent tomb
All were there again; the friends of her cloud
less childhood, who went down to deaths cold
chambers IN all their stainless beauty, sinking
into the grave as pure as the snow flake that
falls to the earth. And there was the sister of
her home and heart, the tried friend of so.-
rows shaded hours, who, in dying, left mighty
void that time could never fill. And there
were the ssmighty dead, !" they whose footsteps,
when living, tracked the world with light
light that now shed halo over their graves. |
And there were the meek, patient ones Of earth, |
pale martyrs to sorrow, who struggled hopeful
" through the dim yapors that surround the |
6OTlc, ana met Us reward the ineuable bright
ness Of heaven. They were all here, all who |
had passed from earth amidst fond tribute OF
tears and regret.
I'll were here save two, those two the most |
dearly loved among tho precious company of |
the dead; and wildly scanning the pale group |
the mother called aloud as she missed her chill |
drcn: teOh, nay sonsi my sons would that 1 |
could see them but once againl''
Then arose loud voice, and it said: ssLook |
10 the east;'' and the weeping mother looked. |
OH dreadful sight there, by the sacred al |
tar, rested block and fearful wheel. Stretch |
ed on these dreadful instruments Of doom, in /
the coarse garb of the prison, wrestling fierce |
ly with death in its most awful form, were two |
poor youths; and in their wan countenances,
where crime and grief had traced their fearful |
march, the mother recognized her lost sons.
Dismayed, heart-sick, despairing, she mo-
tionless stands; and the deep silence is again
broken by voice speaking these Words
ssMoufner, whose every tone is nnurmur at
Heavens will, whose every expression is
doubt of Gods love, let this teach thee a