Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-12-17
49,. $.
A retrospective glance.

IT is very pleasant, now and then, from
hfe's high summit, and from amid it, busy
scenes, to cast a look back over the devious
path Of the past and to live over again some
Gifts pleasures. Unebain the painting mind,
Of busy man, and let it wander back IN
search Of some Of the peerless gems you cast
aside in your eager race for riches, honor
and fame. The mind loves to wander back
and remember its youthful pleasures.
All how thickly memories cluster, now to
cheer and now to sadden the heart. Child
hoods glee,in It's innocent ramblings around
that dear old home now so far away and once
80 bright and beautiful with the pure radiance
Of a mothers loyel The bubbling fount that
gave drink to the thirsty, and the giant shade
tree with messy roots, the foundation and
pillars ofthat little playhouse, its little beds
Of plushy moss,its calico leaves for curtains,
and little blue eyed, faxen haired Mamie
that matedwith Us, and sang in that bower
Of innocence and ncSiss the font the shade
4etsn 7 waS a railroad station may
80 NhhavetS playhouse decayed and
wBnaxen haired Mamie may sing
enS Angels in Heaven.
and then there are other memories crowd
ing upon these an old schoolhouse set upon
a hill with a clean yard in front and a grassy
dell at the foot Of the hill. All the sorrows
the homelongings and the ~whippings! And
then there were joys too, when the snow fell
and whitened schoolhouse, hill and DELL
What snow castles were built what gian
warriors were made to people them, and will
what giant snow balls the castle was stormet
and the warriors mashed into powder, annie
exultant shouts and the waving Of hands by
score Of red and tingling handsl The snoy
has melted the schoolhouse is always whit
now with o paint that only embellished pala
ces in other days; and if we look within tn
walls, a new master will bow to us and othe
children will gaze from behind q new orde
Of primers. The old master has gone to hi
final rest, and the children we remembe
have scattered, some to the distant lands
some to theseas, and not few to Heaven, b
it hoped.
Anu bhtAG 10 u mOulOEJ bHdG Will III
avaunt. A memory Of a meadow with
brook running through it, and flowers adorl
ing it, and strawberries bordering it. Thel
memory loves to linger. The merry ho
making, With its fragrant harvestfoating baC
over o long lapse Of years the strawberr
hunting the minnows in the brook Il
wealth Of flowers the harmony of the bird
and the saow that whitened and smoothed
over in winter the glorious rabbit bants
and the spot where we wrote our name in tt
crispy snow, and then wrote another love
one beside it, and then dcfacSd it, believin
that the snow was not pure enough to hol
it, or that other eye{ might profane it,-a
these ana a thousaAd others cluster taste
than we can write. All that loved nan
treed in the sparkling snow Where is tn,
same now? Memory can tell better tha
we; it may be another name now, even thi
ofhim who wrote it with a finger throbbir
with the pulses Of a youthful hope; it ms
be called in u palace where all is love tin
be uttered in q distressed and miserab
howell; or it may be a new name" given
Heaven, and q name somewhere on a tom
stone that will not. melt away, may bow Il
knee Of Il broken heart to weep over it
wealth Of love bereavedl
Amid life's busy struggle, it is well, no
and then, to ~unfetter the mind and bid
wander back and seek the gems that ha'
been cast aside. Memories will crowd an
cluster that will soften and subdue the hear
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