The Shasta courier., 1855-12-29
She is DyinG.

The following is sublimely beautiful and pa-
thetic, and could only have been dictated by a
heart that has experienced all the bitterness
that is therein expressed Who the author is
We do not know. but suspect it is an extract
from some book. If anybody can read il with
out moisture in the eyes and stones in the throat.
they a.e worthy of marble:
Hush she is dying The sunlight streams
through the plate-glas windows-the room is
fragrant with the sweet breath of the Southern
flowers-large milk-white African lilies-roses
nightingale would stoop to worship-Cape
Jessamines and camelias with their large glossy
leaves.
Through The open easement steals the faint,
musica. tlnkle of playing fountains; and the
light tempered pleasantly by rose curtains of
embroidered satin, kindles up gorgeous old
paintings with halo bright as rainbow 1t is
as 1t fresher sunshine We're falling earihward on
the bower of beauty.
The canary sings in his gided cage-her can
ary; and the mocking-bird raises his clear notes
higher and higher on the perfumed air
Why do you clench your hands until the nails
draw the rich, rosy blood through the thin
quivering skinl Why do you grind your teeth
together and hiss between that one word, hushl
It's beautiful home am sure, and that lady,
with her hand upon her bosom, is fair as auy
dream vision of the painter
Surely nothing can be purer than that broad
hight brow; nothing brighter than those golden
curls.
And size loves you, too All. YES, any one
can read that in the Deep violet eye, raised so
tenderly to your own. All that is it; your
young wife loves you.
She linked to yours the existence of an angel
when she knelt beside you at the marriage altar
and placed her hand in yours
For twelve long sunny months an angel has
walked or sat by your side, or slept in your bo-
som.
You know it! No mortal woman ever made
your heart bow before purity so divine!
No earthly embrace ever filled your soul with
the glory beyond the stars; no earthly smile
ever shone so unchangeably above ell noisome
things as you earthworms call care and trouble
She is an angel. and other angels have been
singing to her in the long days Of this pleasant
June time.
Hush, you say, but you can't shut the an
them note OF heaven from those unsealed ears
Louder, lighter, swells the hymns of the SER
aphs; brighter grows The smile on your young
wife's lips.
She Whispers, Dearest, I'm almost home and
you will come by and bv and am going TO ask
God to bless you! r But you cannot bear it. and
you turn away and the big tears gather in the
violet eyes.
You had held her there on your bosom all day
all night; are you tired But you can't an
So'' Oiose. e.~closer, you Gasp ihe shght, tar
figure; painfully you press your lips 10 the cold
brow Carrie is dead!
What is 1t to you that the sunshine is bright
what that It's cheerful rays fall ON the broad
lands-our lands? What is it-now that she can
walk on them no more And what is death
her death Few people knew her: no vice
president must be chosen to fill her place: no
nation will raise monument to her memory
But she was yours; great God of ours-your all /!
No yours and Gods; and your year of joy is
over. and she rests on His bosom now in heaven.
ihey nave dug grave for her. Spring flow
ers brighten over it, aud the green grass smiles
with daisies and voets. You go there, and
sigh and pray, and ask God if you too, NAV
come home and when no answers comes, your
proud heart rises up in bitterness, and with the
bold wicked words upon your tongue you pause,
Tor your guardian angel looks down from heav-
en-, and whispers-"H Hush -