Litchfield enquirer. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1829-current, 1855-06-28
DEBORAH.


purified and made better by reading such a
beautiful sketch:
am an old man. My hand tremhles as
/ write. 1t is strange-looking hand
shriveiled and brown and notified with the
dark spots which old age has imprinted on
it. can hardly believe the tale my mirror
tells me; for Time, in his busy silence, has
wrought sad changes there. Theturls in
which used to glory are silver white my
eyes. once dark and piercing, are sunken
and faded, and look out like dying lights
from underneath their dropping, Redeemed
lids. This STOPPING, crazy form is but the
wreck of what was once my pride. sang
once. They said | sang @ell. For years
l led choir which was the boast of the
country round. The highest falsetto was
not beyond my flexible voice, nor the deep
est base below it. Now that voice, cracked
and discordant, can hardly falter through
the scale, and dies away in husky whisper.
But did not mean to talk of myself
These thoughts came over me as | looked
down the past, to catch glimpse of one
who shone there SO brightly, who shines
now in the New Jerusalem.
1t was many years ago. for was young
then, when first saw sweet Deborah OAR
ling. 1t was on the first Sabbath in June.
Oh how it comes up before me! The wa
wing leaves and the soft murmuring of the
fresh breeze as il ripped through them; the
burst of liquid music that triiled through
the church and tie voice Of the meek old
minister within, whose simple, heartfelt
eloquence bound US like spell. ] occupi-
I'd my accustomed seat in the choir. The
singers one by one dropped in, when, to
my dismay, found that my first treble was
absent What could we do! | was per-
picked beyond measure. for we had prepar-
I'd ourselves with unusual care to sing be-
fore some distinguished strangers present,
and without our leading treble we were moth
ing. At last, one of the singers suggested
that she had cousin below who sang read
lily by note. She might be persuaded, etc.,
etc. hurried down stairs, and there, in an
old square pew, for the first time, beheld
Deborah Darling How well remember it
all I! Her fair face suffused with bushes
at the thought Of taking SO prominent po-
siton, her gentle hesitation, and timid re-
Iuctance, the sweet plying expression that
stole over her counienance as | told my
perplexity. and her fal,ering acquiescence
at last. had not conquered Deborah, but
Deborah had conquered me.
led her TO her place in the north gallery,
the base were ranged in the south, and be-
tween them took my stand, with the coun-
ter singers ia a line before me, and with
majestic flourish Of my pi:ch-pipe. we burst
into one of those fine old anthems which
now lie neglected and forgotten. Never did
hear such music. Others may Ia Of
Jenny Lind and Sontag. bat never again
will my ears hear such strains as gushed
from the lips of Deborah. She sang with
her whole heart; the delicate color deepen
ed in her cheeks, her eyes gistened, and
her face grew radiant with emotion. sang
mechanically. My thoughts, my eyes were
fixed on Deborah; aud when she scared
away, now carolling like bird, and now
gliding over the most difficult passages with
out an apparent though, Of any thing bu, the
language of devotion she was u,tering, felt
as If listening to the songs Of another world.
The anthem ceased. bu, my brain was in
a whirl. Ii seemed to me that the minister
would pray about Deborah. that he would
preach about her, that every one must be
thinking Of her through the whole service.
That was an Improbable Sabbath to me !;
yet she, sweet girl! would gladly have led
my thoughts toward the Heaven whittier her
own were ever turning.
That Sabbath passed away; the week
passed away, and had seen her, known
her, loved her.
twas on Saturday afternoon as bright
and beautiful as ever shown on this fallen
earth, that drove through the fragrant pine
woods Of b. The air was delicious, the
scenery enchanting, and by my side sat De-
borah Every item OF her appearance comes
up wildly In my recollection. Her dress
Of spotess white, beneath which peeped out
that slender little foot; the shawl Of color
so delicate and soft q know not its name
and the deep bonnet from whose dark sha-
dow her eyes beamed like stars. Never
since have seen such eyes as Deborah's
so full of liquid light, the soul looking out
Of their clear depths, as il no thought Of de-
Element had ever married its purity, and the
long lashes falling heavily over them, as
though to veil such brightness from the rude
gaze Of mortais. A proud and happy man
was when turned toward her (and new
er spoke without doing it.) she would look
up for moment with such soft and iinid
glance and then drop her eye-lids, Us If ter
rified at her own boldness. The gentle muir.
muir Of her words thrilled my heart. 1t
seemed to me it would be heaven to clasp
that little hand.
The sun went down, and the silver disk
of the moon CLEANED in the eastern sky
The trees began to darken more thickly
around us. slackened my reins !; my horse
walked gently along, and no sound broke
the stiffness save the signing Of the winds
through the pines and the melancholy chirp
Of the cricket. Hooked at Deborah, and my
tongue found utierance. | told her how
dear she was 10 me. how long, how ardent-
ly had loved her how never had loved,
never could love another!
paused for a response. She trembied.
The transparent muslin modestly folded
ahoa. her neck heaved convnlsively. A
faint blush stole over her sweet face I; her
lips parted and closed again; few bright
drops tremhled on their long lashes, and then
coursed slowly down her cheeks, as il 10th
10 leave SO fair resting place. Then with
smile, such as the angels wear. she look
ed up suddenly in my eyes, and said, with
fal,ering utterance; No, Gregory, il must