American Lancaster gazette. [volume] (Lancaster, Ohio) 1855-1860, 1855-07-05
ben BOLT and SWEET ALICE.

TThe following is an attempt, by an un-
known writer, TO embody, in abrief story
the sentiment of that exquisit song Of
Thomas Dunn English, "Ben Bolt Tits
very fine for suci, an attempt,as such things
generally fall very short of being worthy
Of their inspiration. This does not. @'
'soh, don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
swect Alice whose hair was so brown; ..-sy
Who blushed with del ght when you gave her smile
And tremblcd with fear at your frowns ~
Iiithe old ehurch-yard in the valley, Bon Bolt,
In corner, secluded and ulerc, ~, .s
They have fitted slab Of granite so gray,
And Alice lies under the stone." ESGLrsn. j,
~. --tlrs-- .s J!rs1l x - s#'s- 4, 80 I'll 'TF
10 ''Dont you remember?" Are those
three magic words--a key, wherewith We
may unlock the Aoodgates of the heart, t,and
send the sweet waters Of the past over the
plains and down the hills Of that fair land,
known in our heart experience as by y-gone?
Even so. There rises before us visions of
time when the bright, deep eyes of the
young spring gazed shyly at us from be-
meath the ermined mantel Of winter-wben
the blue violets stole their first tint from
the blue sky above; when the cowslps OF
sunny May, and the golden-hearted but
tercups first jewcled the slender blades Of
grass and the hawthorn grew white with
its blossoms; when we roamed the woods
the whole of fthat long, warm, loyeable June
holiday, wearing garlands and listening 70
the concert of birds in that dark mistleto-
wreathed, oaken forest. There was one, in
years agone, that prayed; .'Lord, keep my
memory green;"' and the. clinging tendrils
ofoar hearts go ever back yearningly to
this prayer. - ~. b ,.E !. a-ls}, ,,Aa..
ssButgreen and fresh as the poets prayer,
had the heart of Ben Bolt been kept: From
his early boyhood TO the hour he sat by bis
old friend, and listened to the song of by.
gone days. Not "through glass, dark.
ly.' did heireyiew those scenes Of the past
but II was the going back Of the boy. hear
to, others Of childhood. sFSl .y',t ,1
There was the little old red school, house
with its dusty windows, and desks tha
had been nicked many q time, trying pen
knives; its tall, stern locking teacher
whose heavy voice caused the youngeI
ones to tremble; its rows of boys and girl
with their heads bent. attentiyely down
ward TO their books and states. The wilC
winter wind sang and whistled without
and some few childish hearts tried to fhC
words for its mournful notes; they wel
too'young and. happy to know that tear
ried desola;ion and heartache in its wall
yet did they, learn it in after days. q 4, ,s,,
o. Then there came few light. rount
snowballs, 50 tiny that it must have beel
the sport Of the snow spirits, in their eld
rich reyels changing. by and by. TO feath
cry fakes that danced about ever SO gaily
Howthe eLildren's eyes, grew bright a
they looked at one another, and thought O
the merry rides down the hill. and tn
snoY-ballipg that would make the pla
ground ring again. The last lessons wer
said. books and states were put aside, and
in the place Of the silence, reigned gay
glad voices. Kate Ashley shook back be
pretty ringlets. aud laughed through he
sparkling eyes, as she gave Jamie Maryi