The Abbeville banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, 1858-04-08
81 ttMNTHER !

-an aged pilgrim who had walked the
dust for eighty-one seasons. Children. and
grand children stood round his bed, but he
fixed his sightless eyes with an upward
look, whispered mother" and expired.
O! word of undying beauty; thine
echoes sound along the walls of time till
they crumble at the breath of the Eternal.
In all the world there is not habitable
spot where the music of that holiest word
has not sounded. BY the golden flow of
the river, 10y the crystal margin of the
rock, under the leafy shade of the forest
tree, in the hut built Of the bamboo cane,
in the mud thatched cottage, by the grand
peaks OF the kissing mountains, the wide
spread valley, on the blue ocean, in the
changcless desert where an angel came
down to give the poor parched lips tile
sweet waters of the wilderness, on the al
tar where father stayed the downward
stroke of his sacriiicial knife, warned by
the voice of Col, between the pillows, that
like solid walls OF ruby threw their crimson
OIL the swarlhy brows of Israelitisl men,
and lighted the dark eyes of the women,
under the white tent of the Arab, and in
the bark covered wigwam of the Indian
hunter, wherever the pulses of human
heart beat quick and warm, or float fecbly
along the current Of failing life, there is
that sweet word spoken, like universal
prayer.
Mother"
Look at it and think Of your mother
Do you not see her as if it were but yester-
day Does she not stand before you in
ths living lines Of love and the unfading
colors of memory? Do you not behold
the thoughtful brow bending above you,
how down upon your knees, with your
hands clasped within hers, and your eyes
glance locked IN with her earnest glance,
and seeing your heaven in that clear light,
lisp the prayers whose simple words swcetcn
the rest of your manhood, even now? Do
you see her as you stood with the fault con-
fessed, yet trembling upon your lips, like
an evil turned into an angel and 10th 10 90
and as you look up expecting the frown
of her severity, meet instead 4 smile that
makes your heart give a great, quick tl,rob
it is SO beautiful. Do you feel the soft
hand OH your head as she praises you for
your courage? A mothers praises what
gold would buy even the haunting rccol.
lection Of that voice, those words that
smile?
Mother"
Does the word soften your heart when
you thirk of that fcverish couch 2 Have
you eve. felt the touch Of fingers that soothed
you as hers did! Have you ever felt so
smooth a pillow rs the one she pressed
gently for your burning head! DO you
remember how she denied herself rest day
after day and night after night, her eyes
bright with the fevcrish longing to give
you ease and alleviate your suffering? Did
that voice ever sound harsh to you then?
and oh when your head laid on the bosom
from which your own life had come, and
you heard the quick throbs of her loving
heart, and knew every one of those precious
+, pulsalions beat with love and tenderness
. and anxiety for you, did not your parched
, lips murmur "mothcr," with a strange, wild
| JOY, while the cheek scanned by tho rougl,
lines Of care, was wet with tears.
elf could only see my mother"
e Again and again was that ycarning cry
. repeated -" If l could only see my motlier' p
The vessel rocked, and the waters, chased
by fresh wind, played musical reveilIe
: against the side Of the ship. The sailor
G a second mate, quite youthful, laid in hi
r narrow bed, lis eye glazing, his limbs stiff
y fening, his breath failing. 1t was not pleas
e ant TO die thus in this shaking, plupgine
u ship; but lie seemed not to mind his bodil,
: discomfort-his eye looked far away-art
l. ever and anon brol:,, forth that crieyin,
cry If could O., see my mother p
j. An old sailor sat by with Bible in hi
= hand, from which l.e had been reading
81 He bent above the young man and askc
y him why he was so anxious to see tn
n motherlIc had wilfuly left.
u ooh that's the reason" he cried in an
It guisll--" l nearly broke her heart, and
t cant die in peace. She was good mothe
l. to me-oh! SO good mother! She bor
z everything from her wild boy, and one
'e she said. "My son, when you come
Z: die, you will remember all this. Oh!if
ID could only see my mothcr"
le He never saw his mother. IIe die
le with the yearning cry upon his lips, e
IS many man has died who sighted tt
as mother who bore him. The waves ro
'g over him and his bones whien Mt the bo