Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-03-16
Folvhe Spirit of the Age.
HOME.

~ a
Fovhe Spirit of the Age. :
HOME.
Home! Home! how sweet to the ear is
the music of that word! No sooner does the
thrilling sympathy reach us, than our heart
strings vibrate in unison, bringing up from
their secret depths sunny associations and
fond membranes. The traveller in whatev-
err land, amid scenes however beautiful, can
never experience those pleasant emotions
which fill the heart when surrounded by
the home circle. Whether we wander in the
smiling dales of the sunny south land, where
the aroma Of flowers is waited to US on the
breath of evening, or among the snow clad
hills and ice bound streams of the regal north,
we still turn our eye towards home with the
same unsatisfed longing !" To this simple
quotation, how sweetly did my heart respond,
as seated beneath the star-gemmed canopy of
an Italian Summer night, our little gondola
sailed noiselessly Ger the placid waters, while
soft, distant strains of music fell sweetly up
on the ear, and Venice, with her myriads of
lights, smiled lovingly upon the scene! Home,
sweet Home = came to me on the evening
wind, and almost unconsciously my own
heart tuned its Tyre, and silently echoed to
the enchanting strain.
Ny thoughts had broken, for a while, the
letters that bound them to earth, and were
communing with the beautiful mysteries Of
the sky-with the silver queen of night, as
she looked down so lovingly from her bright
home above, and the tiny stars grazing her
presence with their silent but eloquent beau
ty but now as these sweet sad notes fell up
on my ear, memory waited me back to scenes
Of other days-to the home of my childhood
in a far distant land, and drinking in these
sweet memories, all other feelings were for
gotten. Once more | stood amid the lofty
oaks of Rose Dale, and breathed the air ofm
native home, laden with the perfume of those
sweet flowers from whence it had derived it
name. But here | cannot linger ~long-hap
by voices from within bid me enter. In he
gers busily plyingth industrious needle, SIT
: aunt Mag, smiling kindly upon the it'll
! group drawn around her, and ever and anol
joining in the merry conversation and peal
: of laughter, that burst from young and haE
Ply hearts.
, In his easy chair ~reclines uncle Henry, en-
ioying a 'tete-a-tete" with his friend, the pipe
the very personification of ease and content
, Near him sits cousin Herbert, entertainin
E all with his rich store of learning and pleas
{ ing anecdotes. A bright happy face peer
over his shoulder, and cousin Nays sunshin
, countenance meets my gaze, as she quiet
: little Willie to rest, while Maggie and Fanni
q kneeling at her side, lisp their infant prayer
: Then comes Mr.. A., with his bland, a
9 fable manners, making every one feel so plea
ant, and cousin Annie sits near him, the pi
n ture of loneliness and grace, all silently a
knowledging her superiority, while bah
Charlie, calmly ~slumbering in his little ci
> dreams of the sweet holy angels, and heet
2, not the noise around him. A little to Il
q right of aunt Mag sits Meta, my much love
sister, busily engaged in some fancy wor
!" while fun-loving cousin Will teazes her mo
is numerically. But bark silence reigns f
n a while DER that little assembly-the strin
n of the guitar are touched by fairy-like finger
u" and cousin Minnie's clear sweet voice sin
E, with touching pathos, Joys that we ha
IL tasted" The strain dies away and all see
or absorbed in deep thought, till cousin Arthur
merry voice breaks the enchantress' spell, a
-, all is bright and joyful again. But, eV
TN here, memory does not linger Tonga ST
sh more sacred still claims the homage of a p
ar sing thought, and, as if by a magical tout
the door of another brighter cell enclosi
' memory's golden casket, bounds open, a
p, my own little room, the scene of my joys a
nd sorrows, brightest aspirations and bright
no dreams, stands before me. / hold my brei
and gaze ~around-how life-like! how re
Little Herbert's little limbs rest on the dow
)ly couch, where | so oft have slumbered, WI
IN mysterious and sometimes ludicrous
rLo ions have foated through my brain. A h
smile lights his features, and methinks
infant angels of the sky are wreathing sw
Of? thoughts into his golden dreams. The lit
,or window, near where | so oft have sat
watched the feecy clouds that moved
- cooaf,lly o1Onr tho nlaor h1rIn CIV 10 tbr0
md open, and the moons pale beams fall sol
un- upon the dusky forms Of Hannah and Sar
= who, with knitting in their hands, eyes clos
&" bow their heads to and fro, all u~nconsci
I'M of the many dropped stitches, and trout
ant some labor they are thereby bringing VI
the themselves. The door opens and Miss Pol
kind, good natured face meets my gaze, j
'"' the same as when long ago, she bore SO g
humoredly, our mirth Ger her laughable n
res takes, when she was so much ''croubled"
bv having to take so many "crips" abroad, 6
: when twas such a ~"crial' to get her Ger
e. mings' to fit nicely
Of Al this little room is a sweet sacred 81
Ses and here I love to finger and recall the sW
-. and sad "reminiscences of departed days.
~ sad too, for here in the lone night hour
are one bright joyous summer day, when
ose fair June flowers waited their sweet peril
DER hill and dale, an Angel of awful n
with slow and cautious tread, glided to
mi bedside of one loved form, plucked the r
oily from her fair cheek, checked the breath
Wis Of her pure, warm heart and closing the
vers blue eyes in an eternal slumber, depal
i'm 49, .bn uonsopad ona 70 The I'M oe
and lowly Jesus! Memory Memory!
have art a faithful friend, bat ah! too soon
spell was broken! twas all but a dream
w" music ceased-the pale stars, grown W
Wis of watching, hid themselves behind
clouds, and sad and tired, l laid me doy
tally dream oil "home sweet llome