The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1855-05-30
RAYENNA.W WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1856.


So she went, leaving all behind her, travel
ing alone, she knew not whether. There
was courage in that pale face, and firm
resolution that no earthly power could break,
and as she silently and uncaringlV gazed
upon the joys and pleasures OF those around
her, they called her cold and heartless.-
Oh, could they have known half Of the ago
ny Of that bruised heart--could they have
seen the thin hands clasped in her lonely
retirement in such devotion as the loving
and The sensitive only can know, they would
never have deemed her proud and unloving
But man sees only outward seeming, not
the inmost heart, aud by this he judges,
sternly, and often unjustly. Oh, who shall
tell OF the beating of the closed and anguish
ed heart. worn out by unrequited love, and
withered hope, and dark despair, which to
mans eye is unseen, and to his soul forever
unknownl
Thus it was with Linda. Thus it was
that she was SO calm and so silent. yet in
wardly so tossed and so restless. The star
of her life was sinking low, and was soon to
fade away, yet there was one hope daily
striving with the lion grasp of despair which
nerved her for exertion. In that far away
city she might meet him, and there might
be bliss as of yore. .sf
1t was clear, pure day, and the sky was
cloudless, and the sun brilliantly rode on in
his burning chariot, shedding light on all
around, when Linda entered the dwelling in
the midst of the city where last her lover
had resided, and from whence he had writ
ten the last letter, which more than all the
rest had thrilled her soul. A women, with
a quiet friendly face received her and trem-
bling Linda rnurmured his name, and asked
il his home was still under her roof
HE is gone lady, said the calm face,
gone from earth's shadows to the light of
the clear sky. For two years the grass has
waved over his pillow. He was glad when
the dark messenger came and with q smile
he passed the death cold river for earth was
very dark to him. There was some great
sorrow which seemed to cloud all his life;
what it was never knew, for he never spoke
of himself. used to loLg for him to tell
me something of the night which ever seem.
ed to overshadow him: but it was all in vain
He used to watch whenever we brought in
his letters she continued, with mostened
eyes and trembling voice, 'and look them
over carefully; and then have seen him fold
his hands and give look of untold misery,
and say, 'forgotten--and by her!'
At last, one morning he did not come down
at the usual hour, and after a long time
went up to his room, where he lay calmly
and peacefully as if in blessed slumber.--
spoke to him, he answered not; touched
him but he moved not, I laid my hand on
his forehead, and it was cold as marble,
and then I knew that. he was dead. Well,
thank God, he is over the rough sea now,
and he knows not what sorrow is, nor dis
out II . "it Dut
you look SO strangely, lady! You did
not know hing
Linda fremont did not die in anguish Of
the hour. 1t is sudden grief that kills,
not long despair. She did not weep, she
did not even faint; she sat a long time
fearless, cold and still. No word escaped
her lips as she went away after long time
from the dwelling. She went back, back
to her daily tolls, back to her weary mis-
cry. Yet calm and more placid was her
face, as she moved on day by day, and
within all was quiet, for the stiffness Of
despair was there. They found her one
morning sitting by her lonely window, with
her head resting on the thin transparent
hand; but the brow was icy cold, and the
hand was rigid and still. There were tears
on her wasted cheek, such as had not
rested there for many years, and smile on
her worn face; for the long night Of life
was past. and the bright morning had arisen.