Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-02-28
- a. mt mo tfatia da,Ap ohspapn.
And when Il ;sfn;sbea .bera;s soua.b;na

And when it isfnished, thereis something,
such an awe as the heart feels in the wide
hush Of nature, before she gathers her ele-
ments for battle But he gazes about him
and smiles aud the loving band breathes
freely again; there IS so much sweetness
in that smile
And the dakfollows Oh ltbat
last prayer the tremg}cm entreaty
of those upI a arms 70 glory reAcc-
ted ffona6e lax thanS zning brow, whose
thin 1foskS ethcAslpery silk over a
bendinN a fully ripe!
They rough tears upon him his
form is mo- bent, and a lambent fire
plays ntAeAaaded blue eyes. Not a tone
faltcrsN one of his lambs is forgotten
in that last petition. He prays for his
Mary, fragile and ~blue.veined, she whose
slender thread Of life has been so often
drawn through the hand of pale disease,
that tits but as a glistening hair. And he
pleads for Thomas, his 6rst-born, who
stands in the might and stature. of manhood,
wishing that he had hint his stubborn
knees, instead his rug I'd face vet with
the tears he has ever tin then, restrained.
Nor is the Benjamin. of his love forgot
ten he who has nevet spoke an unflial
word to the old man ;tthe, so ike his moth
80 her very angel seems to dwell il
cry look and action.
essntogcthc.f
seems as if some invisible cord binds them
to night. There are Choice spirits waiting
c. Tbonnoc. 4ha ahaoH of n haau4ifal GIRL
pales as the hours speed because Benjamin
%tarries: and group Of arlish friends pause
in the midst of their intScent mirth to won
der what has become ofMary.
Still they hover aroundthe old man their
father. He never seemed SO dear before,
SO inexpressibIy dear. His voice was al
ways soft, but now Ills music; his smile
always sweet, but now It's seraphic. And
even after they have bidder him good
night, they keep returning-Mary for one
more kiss and the others with affectioHate
words, telling him how careful he must be,
aud always ring for them if the fire goes out.
And once in that never to-be- forgotten
night he does ringsfor them. The IRE IS
almost out. 1t blazes at times in the hol-
low eye it kindles IN the sunken cheek,
butts Lights the ftful CLEAN of struggling
life, famed by the lips Of death.
Thomas, strong though he is, and with
the scar Of battle scanning his brow, shakes
like an aspen; and the groans that would
echo through the house, he keeps down
with a crushing hand. Benjamin totters
like a child, and sinks neryelcss and weeping
at the bedside. Mary, alone, with nc
color in her cheeks, lifts the dying head te
her bosom, and there hepeaccfully breathei
out his being:
1t is over now-the vision is gone, a2G
Mary in her black garments, stands an or
kphan, her hands clasped upon her father!
bible.
st step softly-speak low the white
: gHed"men is gone. AS when a towering
@ & is missed, the eye still glances upwards
: where stood the trunk, SO in every familiar
place the glance of love seeks to shape ou
the bent but venerable form of the aged pa
triarch.
In vain. But there is a green spot sacre'
to memory. Every blade of grass, there, i
hallowed; every dust atom more preciou
than gold. For, lying with the garments o
death drawn softly about him, and watche
by the housekeeping presence of the ange
whose charge it is to guard the ashes of tn
just till they blossom to unending life, there
after a night Of storms,' the dear, dea
father awaits the morn of resurrection.
NJ. A. D.