Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1857-07-03
From the N. D. Times.
Jos. Brenan and t. r Meaaher.

Thomas Francis Meagher in his Journal the Irish News
tues of his friend, Joseph Brenan We would wish as he
ntmates that he would tell the story of his life as he had
learned it. An that he others could would fall al
short Of the bright reality One word justice to our friends
and fellow citizens, however, is required They not
such occasons at the bier Of our loved friend
Joseph Brennan Is human nature turned to stone North
bic that the brilliant spirit of who passed day
without shedding newborn grace the fair humanite
OF te should be borne the tomb with much apathy
though ne had been miser In the long cavacade that
extended as far the eye could reaeh Mr. Meagher may
rest assured there not hired for Joseph
they and the world sustained in the early death the gor
Gus poet orator and friend such truths have to be learned
loss, we cannot for moment question 80
Hardly mad the grave closed upon one friend before the
hour kne in Calvary Cemetery, this day week. and saw
the clay heaped upon the remains of Patrick Lynchin his
last agony away in the Oldest city of the South
the brightest, gentles tuest Of the Irish exles Three
days after, and he was dead. -
In the midst of this ovefowing sorrow-with these dark
waves mounting higher and higher above all that have
held most dearwha heart have speak of the good
the genius and all the rich hopes that have in this
do than fold out bow the head and in dumb grief
dream of what have known loved and lost With this
theme before u.s. wiling would we lay down the pen and
write no more Willingly yet mournfully mournfully yet
fondy would we be silent Or opening lips spe ak
would call around the uness friendshe young the
old, the gallant and the learnedall those who various
brough in contact with beloved friend, Joe
favorite brother.
The circle formed would tell them the story of his life
We ourselves have learned it. Sorrowfuy but proudly
We would tell it, for such story is like to the picture
battle field wreck at where in the midst of much
hardship calamity tempestuousness and anguish there
vivid gpses ofthe grace the purity the heroice grandeur
of life And yet proudly would tell it, words
would fail to reach its height and unfold its buried treasures
auntess hope and bold endeayor It should be told in
lyric ode and BY Poet beautiful in his nature and divine
GA poet should have poet to recite the beauties the
the tempess and the pure gories of fe there
should gather round his bier, the dull mues who lend
their cadaverous looks and Grape for such occasions
the rough and vulgar crowd who higher life beyond
that which Pressmen chronicle but,
Desires and Alterations
Winged Persuasions and yelled Desnies,
Splendors and gories, and gmmering lncarnations-
All he had loved and moulded into thought
From shape, and hue, and order, and sweet sounds
$50 let him rest to-day Tomorrow, when the mist shall
have partially cleared off, and the scenes through which
would retrace steps with him. shall show themselves
light less tremulous, it will console and gladden. tel
the story Of our brave young gentle, loving FRIEND Joe
!