The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1854-01-20
WHEN | AN DEAD.
We clip the following from the Memphis

Express, where it appears as original:
In the dim cripts of the heart where dis
pair abideth, these words seem written. A
strange meanng-a solemn intmation un-
folds itself in their utterance. Four simple
monosylables-hOw much of gloom We con-
veyl how We speak of funeral tones Of the
extinguishment of earthly hope-of the spf-
rit that has struggled in vain and is painful
ly quiet now.
"When am dead,"is uttered calmly; but
what n calm-such as tornado leaves when
silence brOOds over desolaton. The voice
pronouncing that despairng phrase, has not
all its mournlulness from itself. The listen
ing ear hears something more; for from those
words the groan of high aspirations quench-
ed, and hopes pale and bleeding upon the
sharp rocks of adversely, come up, phantom
like, amid the CHASTITY scenes OF the buried
past.
"When / am dead" We have heard it Of
ten, like the pealing bell that tolls the body
of the departed to its final rest. The last
word, "dead," fingers strangely, and echoes
sadly in the ear, and through the portals of
the sympathysing soul. Dead-dead-dead
and the world grows grey, and the heart
stills and the eye mOistens to that mystic
rious sound.
The spirit trembles before the rushing
flood of conflicting emotions which follow
the dark echo, aud essays to glance through
its import. But the echo fades amid enclrc-
ling mist, and the spirit turns back confused
with blindness.
Even the echo of Death cannot be pene-
trated. The few feet mold that compose the
grave, are wider than the globe-higher than
the stars. Not the minds eye, nor the anx-
ious soul can glance through that barrier
the boundary between Time and Eternity.
"When am dead!' More or less signii-
canoe, resignation or Respondent woe, a ful
fiment of nature or n perversion of its end,
may these words express, though sad they
are at best.
When the aged man, whose steps have
grown feeble in the walks of goodness, and
whose hand tremblcs with the fruit of his
oftgiven charity, utters those words, they
fall from his lips MS prayer to Heaven. In
them, his will harmonzes with his destiny;
and the tear that starts for superior soul a.
bout to leave its clay, gIistens in the light OF
happiness that CLEANS out Of the heart at
the prospective reward of the future.
The lips, too, that never pressed the rim
OF the fount Of Natures POesy, may muir
muir, "Whcn am dead;' but death to such an
one is better, perhaps, than life. His heart
holds no music, Ginning in cadences to veal
or wee; his inward existence is void and the
rounh surface of his being, eheckered, though
not frightened by stray half-thoughts, dark
ened but little by the panoply ofthe tomb.
How different when youth, glowing with
beauty of soul and heart, rich with treasures
of mind, and warm with sympathy fer all OF
loviness, signs, like the South wind, "When
am dcad" A spirit seems to wall its end
then; and nm eclipse of the noon tide sun to
fall upon the fair picture Of high natured
checked in its purposc-turned from its dull
Get waves upon coral reef against the rocks
of q destructive shore.
"When | am dead" 1t is mournful as the
plant of ghost on the tempest and mid
night wind But we must all say it some
time; for the grave lies at hand-conceaed
perhaps, in purple heaps of bIoom-yawning
through bed of thorns, or cleaning like
white avenue of hope leaning against the
stars.
"Whcn I am dead!' Strange and fearful
import hath it to the utterer, but it is weak
phrase only unto Others-the great world
Who speaks it, may think the single going
forth of a soul will move many atoms OF the
Universe; but it will move none; all will be
as before.
When he and you and we, gentle reader,
are folded in our shrouds, friends dearest and
those who loved us best, will dry their tears
ere they have well begun to flow The heart
that beat with rapture against our own, VIII
freeze above our memory in brief time
briefer than woman's trust or mans period
of goodness.
But it is well thus: It's the worlds custom,
and Natures law. We weep not for the
dead, but while they die. We'shall soon be
with them; and it may be good, we 60 early
to their narrow homes.
THREE AT BIRTH.-The steamer United
States Mail, Captain Jake HazIcp, arrived Mt
Cincinnati on late trip from st. Louis. On
the way round, Il German woman named
Benz, whose husband, Jacob Benz, lived in
that city, gave birth to three chdren-two
sons and daughter-which were properly
seen to by the chambermaid of the boat So
we'll pleased was Mrs. Benz with the atten-
ton of the captain that she named one of the
boys Jacob Hazlep Benz, and the other United
States Mail Benz; but the daughter is still
without name. The Cincinnati Enquirer
suprests that she he named Young America,
and that Capt. Jake stand as godfather to
the lot.
ry- A pickering pair of Quakers were
lately heard in high controversy, and the re-
pentant husband exclaimed 81 am determn-
ed TO have one quiet week with thee"