The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1857-07-23
Aueiital,
To Robert j. walker,
oVERN OF KANSAS
BY HIS SISTER,
MRS. MARTHA WALKER COOK,
or NEW JERSEY.

BY HIS SISTER,
MRS. MARTHA WALKER COOK,
or NEW JERSEY.
Such is the title Of poem printed, not
published,-that has fallen into our hands.
The authoress is lady Of rare accomplish
ments. She very hinges of her intellect
are the high thoughts and sentiments Of po-
etry. From her early youth her manuscript
repertory has been aceumulating gems, pol
ished and retouched, perhaps, through many
years, but which her modesty has not per-
mitted her friends in a single instance-so
far as we know-to give to print This lady
is the only surviving sister Of an only sur
bers of one of those old time families in
which home.bred and home .incuIcated vir- /
tues formed principles and affections that
can never be forgotten. The brother is call
ed by the Government of his country to
post which the head of that Government pro-
nounces the most arduous and most impor-
ldUL VI H 10 W uppCuoC
an exaspetated civil war that imminently
threatens the dispemberment of the Union.
But that brother has lovely and devoted
family. The acclamatons of his patriotic
countrymen at his appointment have not
drowned the voices of their regrets. 1t was
a theme to inspire his poet sister. She
seized her harp, and, not to the more prac-
tised strains Of her quiet mood,--but with
certain wldness and disregard of finished
measure, she swept its strings. She seems
almost careless of words and phrases, as she
breathes forth the national sentiments of
American patriotism tinted with the light Of
her true Christisn faith.
We take the liberty of making extensive
extracts from this ode. 1t begins by refer.
ence to the tender relations of the subject
to his family, in terms, possibly, too intimate
for US to transfer, without permission, to the
columns of newspaper. 1t passes thence
IL q wider range, and speaks of the past:
BY the Jiniata's river,
In young childhood's day, ..
Where the dark pine branches quiver,
Once we used to stray;
Through the leafy forest roaming
Happy would we play,
Home returning through the cleaning;
Gone the sunsets ray; -a
Pied forever hours so golden, yet forget neer the
olkcn
Home of life's bright May
Theirs fathers goodness blessed us,
Taught us to be true;
There a mothers love caressed US,
Sisters, brothers, too.
Blest our home, and very holy,
Where the Oldham smiled;
Loved he honor, virtue solely,
Riches meier beguiled 3,
Him to any tortuous scheming all his life with truth
was bsaming;
Firm, yet bland and mild.
There to study Greek and Latin,
We were sent to school;
Stern the discipline, sat in
;. Covenanters' rule;
Yet we loved and pleased " the Master,"
Firm, yet just his mood;
Learning faster, faster
When our father stood
Near us in childish striving, always help from
Scholar ripe and good.
Near the Susqlehanna's glitter.
Where the violet paints the sod,
4Iie two little brothers, filter,
:, Earlier, called to God!
Oh, remember how our mother,
Kept the copy-book, the pen
Placed within by dying brother,
Meier 10 turn its leaves again! ,
How through many climates ranging, mother kept
through all the changing,
G. Little williams Book and PEN"
Calmly rests the loving mother,
Seesp on Delaware's fair shorel
Wildly rocks our eldest brother,
Tossed, nor walked by ecean's roar!
Near the Hudson sleeps an angel
Poet-sster, good and rare,
Chauntng more her Evangels
Shall her sweet voice charm the air!
Gone Is all the cheerful singing, silent all the voices
ringing r
Through our home so fair.
Missssippi-goomy river,
Turbid, sluggish, deep, ..
MakeA my heart with anguish shivet-
Near it loved Ones'sleepr :.
On its wild bank rests our father,
Vainly dow the tears,
Though they ever newly gather
O'er the sleepers here!
On his bosom one is lying-ohi too radiant she fo
dying
All her beauty serel -
When our children round US prattle;
Then our longngs wake
Ears long closed should hear their tattle,
Love them for our sake
All their guileless, merry singing,
Would the Dead could hear.
Pain through all our Joy is ringing,
That they arc not nearA
Would the cold lips could caress them Would th
buried love might bless them!
No more here!
oh, my brother! life is lonely,
Haunting voices gloom the day,
When of household band, one only,
Ever severed, still must stray
Leave me not the Joys of childhood,
All its sunshine, all its mirth,
All its wandering through the wild wood,
s. Clustered round thee from my BIRTH
Growing older, ever older, all earth's Joys seer
DINNER, colder,
Love alone has worth.
Oh, my brotherl all the danger