New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-06-17
The Old Wife's Kiss.

CORPSE.
1t was an Old man that lay there, robed for
the grave More than three score years had
| whltened those locks, and furrowed that brow.
and made those tifflimbs weary of life's Journey
and all the more willing to lie down and rest
| where weariness is no more suffered, and in
| hrmlties are no longer burden.
The aged have but few to weep for them when
| they dle. The most of those who would have
| mourhed their loss have gone to the grave before
them harps that would have sighed sad har-
| monies are shattered and gone and the few
who remain are looking cradleYard rather than
| grayeward-to life's opening rather than to
It's closing goal are bound to, and living in the
| generation rising, more than the generation de-
| parting.
Youth and beauty have many admirers while
living have many mourners when dying Many
| fearful ones bend over their cofined clay, many
| SAD hearts follow in their funeral train But
! age has few admirers, few mourners.
I This was an old man. and the circle Of mourn
ers was small. Two children, who had them
| selves passed the middle of life, and who had
| Children Of their own to care for, and to be
cared for by them, Besides these, and a few
| friends who had seen and visited him while sick
and possibly had known him for few years,
| there We're none others to shed tear except his
OLD wife. And Of this small company the old
wife seemed to be the only heart mourner 1t
is respectful for friends to be sad for a few mi
l '1ttN+AN
hearse is out Of sight 1t is very proper and
| suitable for children. who have outgrown the
ferVency and affections of youth, to shed tears
when an aged parent says farewell, and lies
down to quiet slumbers. Some regrets, some
recollection of the past, some transitory grief,
| and the pangs are over Not always so But
often, how little true genuine heart sorrow
| there is
The old wife arose with difficulty from her
| seat, and went to the coffin to look her last
look-to take her last farewell Through the
last falling tears she gazed long and fondly
| down into that pale, Unconscious face What
| did she see there Others saw nothing but the
rigid features of the dead she saw more In
every wrinkle Of that brow, she read the histo-
~ OF years. From youth to manhood, from
manhood to old age: in joy and SORROW in sick
ness and health-it was all there; when those
children, who had now outgrown the sympathies
of childhood, were infants lying on her bosom,
and every year since then--there it was To
others, those dull, mute monitors were unintel-
lieible; to her, they were the alphabet Of the
heart, familiar as household words
And then the future =. What will become of
me What shall do now y She did not saw
g she did not say any thing; but she felt it,
The prospect of the old wife is clouded The
home circle is broken, never to be reunited
the visions of the hearth-stone are scattered
for ever. Up to that hour there was home, to
which the heart always turned with fondness
But that magic is sundered the keystone of
that sacred arch has fallen, and now home is no
where this side Of heaven! What shall the old
wife do now Go and live with her children
be pensioner upon their kindness; where she
| may De more of burden than blessing, so at
least she thinks Or shall she gather up the
| scattered fragments of that broken arch, make
them her temple and her sIrine sit down in her
chill solitude beside its expiring fires and die
What shall she do now
They gently crowded her away from the dead.
and the undertaken came forward with the eof-
hn-hd IN his hand. 1t is all right and proper
ot course, it must be done but to the heart
mourner it brings kind Of shudder, thrill Of
agony, as when the beadsman comes forward
with his aXet The undertaken stood for n mo-
ment with decent propriety, not wishing to
manifest rude haste, but evidently desirous to
be expeditions as possible Just as he was
about to close the coffin, the old wife turned
back, and stopping down, imprinted one long,
last kiss upon the cold lips of her dead husband,
then staggered to her seat, buried her face in
her hands, and the closing coffin hid him from
her sight for ever!
That kiss Fond token of affection, and of
sorrow, and memory, and farewell | have
seen many kiss their dead-many such seals of
love upon clay cold lips-but never did see one
20 purely sad, so simply heart touching and
hopeless as that Or ifit had hope, il was that
which looks beyond coffins and eharne. house es
aud damp, dark tombs, to the Joys OF the home
above. You would kiss the cold cheek of in
fany There is poetry; it is the last rose bud
Or the pald cheek where beauty blushed
There is romance there; for the faded flower is
still beautiful! In childhood, the heart yields
to the stroke of sorrow but recoils again. elastic
with faith, buoyant with home, But here was
no beauty, no poetry nor romance. The heart Of
the old wife WAS like the weary swimmer whose
strength has often raised him above the stormy
waves, but, now exhausted, sinks amidst tue
surges
Why should the old love the old, or kiss the
cold, unloving lips All, why shouldn't they
Does affection grow old Does the true heart
feel the inhrmity of years Does it grow cold
when the step becomes unsteady, and the hands
hang down Who shall say that the heart Of
the old wife was not as young and warm as in
those early and brighter days when he wooed
and won her The temple of her earthly hope
had fallen, and what was there left but for her
to sit down in dependency, among its lonely
ruins and weep, and die Or, in the spirit Of a
better hope, await the dawnng of another day,
when a hand divine shall gather its scattered
dust, and rebuild, for Immortality, its broken
walls.
May the old wifes kiss, that linked the living
with the dead, be the token of holier tie, that
shall bind their spirits in that better land,
where tears are wiped from all faces, and the
days of their mourning are ended
MOTHER STEALING HER OWN CHILDREN
Mrs Nichols, of the Brattleboro' Democrat, thus
describes an affecting scene which she witnessed
in the cars
The 18th of this month was on my way 10
Templeton, Mass, to lecture, by invitation, on
Woman's Rights About twelve miles from
home, two men, one the High Sheriff of our
county, came into the car, and after looking