True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1858-09-29
Shadow and Sunlight.

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II is u wearisome old world / said to
myself the other morning, as | sat by my
chamber window deceitful world, full
Of fair promises that are always bruken,
of bright anticipations that are never
realized. Ethought OF the long wall Of
anguish that is eyefmore rising from the
earth; Of ,he broken homes, the bleeding
hearts. The crushed hopes. remembered
that every time the clock ticks some soul,
gasping, groaning, agonising, is torn from
Its frail body, and sent forth naked aud
shuddering into the mysterious future.
Here a bride, with the marriage vow
scarce cold upon her lips--ihe orange
flowers that wreaihe her hair unfaded--is
stricken down. Death claims her for his
bride, and they fold her pale hands over
her still bosom, and the sunshine and the
glory of earth seem buried in her grave.
Little children, around whom many
fond hopes clustered, fall by the way
Fathers and mothers, brothers aud sisters,
lose thsir warm clasp Of our hands, breathe
few faint words of farewell, and pass
oyer the cold river, leaving Us nothing
but sad memories and darkened homes
The green mounds multiply in the church
yard, and the vacant seats by the freside'
Is it not wearisome world--a lone.
some world!
Then thought of the long catalogue
Of crime that with each days record grows
longer and backer how man hates and
persecuies his brother man, until the blood
of many murdered Abel calls 10 God
from the qronnd; of the prison houses
that dot the earth, each with its share ol
crime, and wickedness that no prison bars
cou6ne; of the great ignorance and SUI
perstition that fill 'he world--the deeds
Of darkness done for Righteousness sake
of the pagan mother throwing the Chile
God has committed TO her care, into the
swift river, or burying it in the ground
even while its sweet pleading eyes arr
turned to her Tor protection.
And again thought Of the high aspira
tions that and no ful6lment-the broker
day dreams--the restless search a(te
happiness-of the many who seek, an
the few who find it.
Fame, pleasure, learning, all have thei
misunderstanding, painting for somethin
to gil the souls deep yearnipg, and fnd
ing but cisierns, broken clslerns, tht
can hold no water" A weary, weary sou
But bark! what was 1t that brougt
the glad tears TO my eyes, and made IN
say involuntarily; Life is pleasant-lil
is pleasant, and God is good.
Il was birds sohg--a wild, swe,
carol from the elm tree, but it thrille
through every corner Of my heart, carry
ing sunshine with it, and spanning m
brow with the bow of promise. Hallell
jahi cried my exultant soul, " for th
Lord God oInnipotent reigneth,"
1t is a glorious world to live in
beautiful world, for God made it; and fro
the frozen North to the burning tropic
he has crowded il with scenes of beauty
Out in the wide prairie, where non
but angel eyes can see it, he has plante
the wild flower, and painted its tiny PEI
ais as none but God could pant Them
Away in the green forest, where tn
breath of the pines is sweet, the sunshin
falls cheerfully through the thick bougt
and the old woods are vocal with life
happy life. Everywhere, in the air.
the water, and on the earth, are myriad
of Joyous creatures who know no care, II
sin, no fear.
And among men, who will say that eve
now more sorrow mingles with their lc
than Joy!
True, there are sad hearts, but so ar
there many happy ones. Every night, a
the sun bids smiling good bye, on
after another, thousands of little chiIdre
with folded hands and quiet hearts, knee
by amother's side, and in different lar
guages pray TO the one good Father
Heaven; then peacefully fall asleep
wake with fresh glee in the morning.
True, dying groan is heard ever
second, but around many death be-
angels stand waiting and when the poo
glazed eyes closes on the loved earth, doe
it not open on Hin who tasted death fo
every man
True the world is full of sin and sui
fering, but its soil has been uodden b
the feet and hallowed by the cross of Hr
who knew no sin, and the Prince c
Peace shall yet reign King of nations.
True, we are striving always to drn
at the broken cisterns but if we will, "
may come TO the Fountain of Livin
Waters and above the turmoil of life
heard ever the voice of the worlds Re
deemer, saying, I" If any man thirst le
him come unto me and drink"
Thanks, little bird, for your mornin
carol. Go sing it TO the other sad hearts
and teach them that God is good and lii
his gift.
Arctic Expedition.
Late intelligence has been received an
nnhlishpd in Tordnn from GanL McCyn