Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1858-07-28
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For the Spirit the Age.
HEART LEAVES.

a soft lullaby through the mournful pines,
and old Atlantic dashes its snow crested
waves upon the rugged beach. The bright
plumed songstcrs Of the south are singing
their last wild lays of passionate love ere
they close their eyes in balmy sleep, and
am sitting alone, almost lost, in the dreamy,
captivating influences which surround me.
A casket Of letters are on the table be-
side me, which | have just finished reading.
They are very dear to me-those old let
ters-for they bring to mind my happy
schooldays, and my dreaming youth. The
first package which attracts me-, written in
a delicate girlish hand, is from my dear old
schoolmate-Alice N, filed with an
ticipations as bright as the sunny heart of
the one who penned the letters it contains.
Oh! what a flood of glorious happiness
that young girl always carried with her.
None could be in her company without
feeling refreshed. Her every motion was
grace and elegance, and from her softly
brilliant eye beamed JOY and delight. But
the western wilderness now claims her, for
with her noble husband she has gone to
seek a home amid It's sheltering bowers
1t is long since | have heard from you,
dear Alice, but memory often brings back
the happy times we have spent together.
| often wish that we might meet again on
earth ; but if that pleasure should be de-
MED us, We have yet a hope of meeting each
other among the glorified saints above.
The next that meets my gaze, is from
the dark haired poetess, the gifted song
bird Of the south-the noble, whole-souled
LILLIAN" She too was a dear friend, yet
how unlike the other. Her heart, too
deeply susceptible to coldness or neglect,
was often bowed despairingly to the earth.
The first Of the letters that | pick up, is in
answer to one that | wrote her, in which,
in speaking Of our youthful day dreams, l
remarked "my castles have crumbled to
the earth, while yours have risen higher
and higher, until all the world yields no.
mage to its bright particular star" Her
answer was, "bc thankful, dear Minnie"
that you have not realized those bewilder-
ing dreams. You are far happier; for
though the adulation of the multitude may
seem street, yet it carries a bitter sting hid
den beneath it." Again, in one of her let
ters, she says "What is fame to a true
hearted woman 2 only q bubble which
sooner or later must burst before her eyes,
and leave her miserable and undonc. Oh
give me but a pleasant, humble ZONE, free
from all the cares Of the world, where with
one who loved Inc more than all earth be
side, | could spend my days away from tn
false glitter OF fashionable life, and at las
lay me calmly down to sleep the cold sleel
of DEATH" All dear Lillian, that fate i
not for you. One 50 singularly gifted, can
not be lett alone, and YOU must run witt
patience the brilliant, yet cold, icy rae
th2aig anfr se]tTh6fEer package, written i
a boyish hand. These letters speak to m,
heart of incidents occurring in anothe
home. They remind me of beautiful vi
lage on the banks of u small sparkling lake
of a boyish form that rendered it eve
more lovely than it was. Oh how we
do | remember that once dear friend !
seems that ] see him now; his darkly cur
ing hair shading a forehead whose pearl
whitcncss rivallcd the driven snow. W;
very young then, and is it strange thi
those soul-spcakiug eyes welded a cor
plcte fascination over my wayward heart
Yc@, in tho boart worship | bestowed I'M,
AloiEVf uoq f! lor9os thatI noososs,
an Immortal soul, and gave myself up
blind idolatry! That dream has lone sin
passed away, and naught now remains
remind me OF il, but those letters vet bic
ted with tears. But oh from INV va
soul thank God that lit is as it isl F.
through the many trials of my youth. 7
has guided me safely and at last broup
me from that fearful position, to 6oy bS9,
oily and towiy at the foot Of the Cross.
The last letters in my casket are befo
me. a mourning ribbon clasps them. {
the loved hand that penned them no
sleeps IN the cold embrace of death. Y,
he Is gone. In the springtime of life a,
hope, he left us or, as he said. "wcnt
sleep" Sweet be thy sleep. thou Low,
one. | try to read those letters viii,
have so often gladdoned my heart, b
bllndingtcars fall fast, and | Law them ava
and ~eeP saeRdy. Oh if the spirits
loved ones ever revisit earth, | know III
he will be near me-, his love will guard a.
guide me. Would that | were. this low
starlight night, in the graveyard bv !
lakeside, where my three dearest on ear
lie buried.
| place my treasures carefully awav .
give myself up to thought. Father q
Mother, both are gone. One bv ono
who love me fade AWAY and die. Eric
after friend departs, and soon those who
left to me will be gone. | too perb,
may soon leave this world of sorrow J
when am gone, will there be one TO nj,
a flower over my lonely grave, or she,
tear to the memory Of the lone orpban
Oh when ] die, my last wish will bc. Il
may be buried on the slopinc hill bv
lakeside, beneath the tall tree whose 90
hanging branches arc shrouded in mon
full moss, and where the signing music
the trees will wall a sad requiem. and
unceasing waves Of the lakelet NAV a,
tcyer at my feet.
am ofttimcs sad and lonely. for III,
who are wont to cheer me, are aone. 7
world seems dark and cllcerless. and 7
tempted to repinc but oh Father, 70,
me to sag from the heart, "sot ma D;U
fJgpa oh : IL "p'