The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1855-06-29
B1DDEFoRD, MAINE, FRIDAY, JUNE 20, 1855


words Of their story, caught the dirsc tior
in which he lay, and few from US like .
spirit, GU, into the forest. We followed
with what speed We might, yainly calling
on her 10 wait for us. .-.'
He was dying in the midst Of the icm'
pest. His lie had been o long Storm Of
passion, as afterwards knew, and his death
was worthy Of his life., A thousand scenes
passed in confusion before his wandering
vision. England, Spain, Portugal, Ireland,
all alike furnished material 10 make up The
strange company Of shosily visilanls that
watched his rocky pillow, as he lay dying
in the forest. The thunder and the wind
made strange sounds in his ears, and he
spoke feebly, as If the Iife.blood were al.
mos, exhausted, and his broken words yet
indicated those sudden changes Of delirious
imagination from woman's arms 10 the bat.
lie field. HIS arm lay across his breast /;
but he lifted it in the air, and then laid il
across his forehead, now barred 10 tho wind
and rain. Then there was no motion oil his
body except faint cluiching Of the fingers
aud iremulous movement of his lips, and
he gave utierance 10 broken murmurs.
The storuppassed on, and in his dreams
the roar Of battle died far away, and he
faucied triumphantly, too, for he smiled and
he thought ho was at home, in merry Eng
land, and listening 10 the sweetest music
in the world, and he said, Mary" in a
low, broken tone, and then shudder in
his frame ratified his sword in the scabbard,
and he was dead. Away on the hillside
the stars shone through the clouds, as IL
war were not, and peace were denizen of
the earth. There, on the summit Of the
hill, overlooking tho forest and the river,
with arms wound in the attitude Of passion
ale devotion around the neck of the fallen
soldier; lay child OF earth, most pure,
most beautiful. The long lashes dropped
on her cheeks, and the closed lids shut in
tho starry yes,and no breath came through
the just parted lips, and she was dead and
the angels were glad, for she had come
back 10 them, who had been SO long wan.
derer from her native heaven.
They slept well 4! There was none Of the
formaliiy Of death there. There was no
folding Of the hands, or crossing OF the
arms, or Strengthening Of the limbs, for the
deep and chilling sleep. There was no
bidding farewell in hackneyed phrases,
made up Of this earlh's coldness, which at
the be., are frigid. There was no sign, no
kiss, no convulsive grasping OF the fingers
but when she reached the brow Of the hill
and saw him, and saw that he was dead,
she meekly wound her arms around him,
and laying her cheek by his, smiled, and
murmured 10 herself, "Thank God, it is
all over, and I may CO." and went. The
clay smiled yet, though she was gone, and
around her lips yet fingered the kisses oi
The angels.
Whether he and she me, again, I know.
not; think not. He was 6end, il ever
man was one, and she an angel; and I new
er heard iha. there was any island in that
great gulf we read Of, OH which those two
might meet: although indeed, il seems,
from The Scripture story, that they may
speak from shore to shore, and have fan
cied that he might stand at times OH the
shore, and call, in piteous accents Of an.
guish, to her, on lhis-but the songs Of The
angels prevent her hearing.
Swee, Mary Lee! Synonymous to me
with spring, and sunshine, and blossoms,
with the light tha, has no sunset, aud the
love iha, outlivcs morali,y,-soon, very
soon. trust, we shall meet as heretofore in
the land where there are no shadows.