Loudon free press. (Loudon, Tenn.) 1852-1855, 1854-08-09
For Loudon Free Press.
The Travail of a Night.

4
The sun had sank beneaththe western hori-
zon; the leaves Of the forest was mistaken by
asingle breeze, as / sat reclining my weary
head against the body of a large oak, which
seemed from all appearances to have stood in
defiance of the bowling blast for many a long
| and bleaky winter. And in her Herculean arms
she had hugged the red bottles of wrath, hurled
by the God of storms. But like the old PHI
grim persecuted for righteousness sake, by the
green arrows of malice, from the fend YAM
pires of orci, which had fallen harmless at his
FEET. And as | sat, looking out through her
verdant boughs into the great coucaye of heav-
en-; with a mind as vassilating as the waves of
the sea- at times rolling aloof and seemed to
wash the skies; then anon engulphed beneath
the whirling pool aud again gliding TRANQUILITY
upon the surface of the deep. Thus it was
with my mind at times contemplating the little
stars Though worlds in magnitude) as they
made their appearance along the purple dome.
When my mind was struck with the beautiful
and svmphonious verse, which had learned to
lisp whilst handled upon the knees of my moth
er:
Twinkle, twinkle little stars,
How | wonder, what you are;
Up above the world so high,
Like diamond in the sky.''
Which would have given zest to the mind Of a
cool and deliberate thinker. But to me all
things solid vanishes like the morning dews
before the red rays of the rising sun. l rose
to my feet; pausng moment and looking
around, all was as silent as the charnelhouse;
not voice was heaed; the sweet gushing melo
dy of the aerial songsters had hushed amid the
dead Of night. Fair Cintha had Just made
her appearance above the eastern world, sur
rounded by beautiful halo which added much
grace and symmetry to her appearance. l
moved slowly off sometimes living in mind days
long since passed and gone. Which truly had
often been gratifying for me, when wearried
with the toll Of books, to pass back to the scenes
of my youthful nativity, and react again the
scenes of my boyhood; but alas, they now seem.
ed as so many daggers piercing my troubled
heart. And again it would fit into the future
beyond the material world. But on went, try
ing to compose my mind, but sometime elapsed
before | succeeded in calming my wandering
spirit; drawing it within its proper limits, pla
cling it upon things present. | paused, casting
my eyes upon my own person; began to reflect
where | was, and whittier was tending. view
ing myself intuitively; turned my eyes toward
heaven, but the Queen of night was now riding
high above in her silver chariot, when was led
to exclaim wonderful art thy works. o God,
and thy ways past finding out" l moved on
again quietly, not voice broke the silence of
the night. At times my eyes scaned along the
pallid skies, and again wandering in the path
before me as the gay beams of the moon guild
ed my feet along the trail, when of sudden
espied in the distance, a small groop Of trees
with their arms locked in each other as though
they were holding the midnight caucus. l ap-
preached, and walked in their midst, though
they did not pay any attention to me, as though
| had been some inferior being to themselves;
looked up, but not a word did they seem to
say, and then turning my eyes toward the
ground, saw that there had been several mounds
of earth thrown up there, and a voice appeared
to come forth in thunder tones, and address me
thus: Oh young man, uncouth dreamer thou
art wandering beneath the sombre shades, in
the lans of deathI Land consecrated and made
holy to God. But not by the Goth, or the
bleeding Gladiator. But dedicated by those
fallen by the lingering hand of disease. Yes
young man, you may pour over your books Of
learning, you may wander up and down in the
world, but here ends your career. Here ends
the great DANA of life Here lies the old Pill
grim, the emblem of yonders oak, he struggled
through time, the storms of life ragged around
him; but he braved them all and has found
peace in the grave; memo debet dici bentus ante
sunen obitum. Though upon the margin Of
eternity, like Moses from Mount PisgaS top he
could view his Promise Land,yet it was through
the valley of DEATH But the oak is yet green
and the forked lightnings ragged and fierce, or
in red rolling balls may play through her branch
es awhile yet But she at last. must cumber
the greispd. JEFFERSON.