The Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, Ohio) 1853-1861, 1857-08-20
Original.
My Flower.

Do you ever think of Death, readerP Do YOU
realize that yorr warm heart full of gushing emo
iions that your 1.-the frame and plant active limbs
shall one day be as the dust you so disClainfully
tread? Do you comprehend its power, its insati
able demands for life, its stern, unwavering aim.
which strikes from your side your dearest earthly
friend, change the cup of bliss for one of "worm-
wood mixed with gall" and turns your golden
castle and glorious rose-garden into wide
anu barren castle, with no cooling shadows save
those cast by the deadly upas 4?
Have you ever thought of the many who have
lived, loved, joyed and orrowed and perhaps spent
more useful, and less sinful life than your own Z;
who, in the midst of their glory, while their brows
were heavy with green and budding honors, and
their highest hopes and most cherished wishes
were about to be realized, have been overtarown,
and trampcd beneath the unainching hoos of the
" Pale Horse guided with unerring certainty of
aim, BY the firm hand of his more terrible rider.
whose only command is pass ye alUay?"
| had a garden once-a dear and cherished
spot-where cultivated the flowers which spring
up beside Lfe's pathway to beautify and adorn
ii, TO smooth the rough places, SO that when
the storms come as they sometimes will to all, rose
leaves us well as dry sand may be cast upon us, and
alas too often 10 foster hidden thorns--the flow.
ers of the heart. Howl loved those flowers =
When they were faint and dying caressed them
back to life, and by nourshing care brought the
bloom to their faded petals
There was one | almost worshiped,--it was so
very beautifll-its rich crimson, yet ever varying
hues--its magnificent FORM its peaceful, stately
head, all combined to make it seem thing of life,
and
"Ensnared by its beauty. bowed to the Shrine
Its name was LOUe Is it. or is it not strange
that the golden winged god should come to me, a
poor plain, uncouth, llliterate country girl -
Enough to say it did come, and planted flower Of
its owa nature in my imaginary "rose garden" 1t
grew-it fourished--it was watercd with tears of
10Y unspeakable, and the gentle breezes which
famed it into life were waited from another hand
than mine. Alas Death has palsied that hand,
yet e'er that it grew chillinyly cold to me, and
glance from those dark eyes, that had grown so
stern and cold to me- and not in death, Was enough
to wither that glorious flower toreucr.
Death entered my "rose-gardeu" with unfalter.
ing step, aud sweryed neither to the right nor left
till his hand had found the heart, and drank the
life blood of my cherished flower. Oh ! why did
he not take my hle also My heart wept tears of
blood but "woes me-" even that could not bring
back the life so ruthlessly taken
Times more merciful hand has partially obliter-
ated the remembrance of that flower so fondly
and golden promise, There are times when think
for Il moment that have found my /" lost darling"
but as often find it only hollow semblance. -
Far away, in a quiet, secluded place in Dreamund.
is the only spot where ever see my flower now.
Like nearly all other things ever loved, it has
passed away vainy try to grasp that Ae9ting
the phantom glides away
or remains only till discover that have been
taking to my heart only a vain deluson.
Life is mystery, solemn and wonderful mvs-
terry, and in it, as dream within dreams, are other
mystries, and the greatest of these is Love. 1--WE
love" many apply to the whole world. Each one
OF the human family has some particular object
on which to place their affections Show me the
person who can say truly that he does not love
anything and Ill show you demon. 1t may be
only whm, strange caprice, an absurd belief,
a "grande passion" flower, bird, a horse or
any pet yet we must all love something, or lue
mast all think lUe do As for me, love to be.
leve that my Hover is in Heaven under the guar
dian care OF spirit whose lile-givng love will
nOurlgl sn hat uba q
my wandering footsteps on the golden sands OF the
river of Life, the first object shall press to my
heart will be any flower"
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