Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1855-05-16
STAR.
SLEEP, ASD The DREAN SPIRIT,

despair, when there is no living world,
with its rush and whirl, to distract our
minds from what we are and what we
shall bef
How is it, that after moving listlessly
through siekly, hopeless day, we some
times fall asleep, and dream the sweetest
dreams that the most eager heart could
desire! After closing our eyes with
utter indifference to the vspid monotony
of the actual world, in the dead of the
night a new world bursts upon US, and
we wander delirously in ri ysian fields,
upon which no blight has fallen. When
the eyes we have seen through the day
have been cold, without expressing q ray
of feeling, how is it that when we sleep,
eyes that burn with the ravishing divine
ness of warm, yet tender emotions, rise
upon US, strike themselves upon our ma
lures, and urge our languid pulses into
the beatings of full and perfect life
explain it, by supposing that to
every one is appointed sleep genius who
watches over us at night, but is power
less to protect US by day.
l believe this, because know one who
has'dared to explore SO deeply the mys.
teries Of her own rife, with It's fierce emo
tons and passions, that many of the
strange and shadowy pheromena that lie
on the borders of existence, have been
revealed to her. She has felt the pres
ence of her sleep genius-she knows that
such spirit exists.
She is not happy, bat the fruits of that
L nh, h,nh Cha h,n L
eyes and faded check, nor low spirits,
nor re irement from the brilliant pleasure
of the world; oh, no it has borne
bitterer fruit than that-she is gay and
lively, but she is utterly reckless !; her
her words, her actions, do not point to
some aim in life; she filings them from
her in derisi0n, and cares not for her
talents, since her hopes are dead-who
cares for the roots and the stem Of a
plant, if the flowers must forever trail
in the dust! Oh, Nature that blasteth
with thy deadly blight the tender flow
ers, stay not to shed thy dews upon the
useless leaves-no, tear them up, dash
them into fragments, and give them 10
thy wild winds, that they may scatter
them to the uttermost parts Of the pitt
less earth,
Ell the life in this wild heart is merely
the flush and dQlirium of fever. She
does not live, she only consumes life.
But the dreams Of this same wild spirit
are more extatic than the happy can con-
ceive of, and all tn Sc dreams arise from
the tenderness of her sleep genius. She
invokeS at night this namelesS spirit.
tossing wildly from side to side, until he
comes to her aid, knowing there is none
else to help her. AS soon as he enters
his presence unseen, but deeply felt, fills
the whole room with a bsimy atmos-
phere, In which her soul floats softly,
no longer tossed on tempestuous seas
She feels that his hand rests on her arm.
though it is invisible to mortal eyes, and
bis touch, softer than the roseate breath
OF summer, soothes her into an uadefined
repose. she tries to raise the heavy eye-
lids that fall over her eyes, but a plea
SAINT spell binds her; she cannot dismiss
the dropping languor that creepS gently
over all her limbs, and so she resigns
herself to the influence of this guardian
spirit.
Gradually the dreadful world rolls
from her. She begins to breathe purer
air; the sleep genius is bearing her to
higher regions his hands now rests on
her brow, and all the fever that the course
of the day had burned in her brain, passes
away with the touch of this humid hand;
she is asleep.
And now the sleeping genius begins
to dream, too. He is watching the
statue-like repose of her face; he reads
al her thoughts he sees her errors bis
finger rests upon the pulses of heart,
and though they are still now, he feels
that they have been swollen with the
heat of intensest fever, and he pities her,
he has compassion on her; he has no
heart for blame, " for he is only a spirit
he is not q mamie does not worship at
the altar of the practical.
| He forgets to whisper pleasant thoughts
in her ear, and she grows restless again.
Ghastly shapes from dream-land throDg
up around her; she tosses wildly, and
begins to sign and to moan; then
the dream-spirit bending over her, whis-
pers, "sleep softly, darling; forget the
L nv" AO ouSUOWS, HO .lC'
proach, no harsh word shall fall upon
thy sleep; fear nothing. l will guard
thee-Im
Then he takes her hand, and leads her
over untraveled seas, through the shining
gates of the ideal world, into that land Of
all divinest splendors; into that land
where the fairest fields are not withered
by the fiercest rays of the sun, nor the
purest streams o'erShadOwed by the upas
tree.
She lies down upon the white flowers,
and all heavenly influences seem to
charm away the serpent from her heart.
Nor is she alone, for the sleep-genius
leads to her those whom she loves in life,
and from whom the merciless tide of fate
strands her far away. .....
Yes! there is one who walks ever with
her through the labyrinthine mszes Of
ideal delight. "Fear not" says the
dream-spirit, Ito look deep down into
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