Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1852-1859, 1859-04-21
Written for the Intelllgencsrl
SENTIMENT-NO. %.
IN MEMoRY oP HELEN A. W.

IN MEMORf OF HELEN A. W.
sit and look upon mighty river, rolling on
before ne to its ocean home, far down in the
perfuned South; and my heart goes goes back
in sweet and holy memory to one who, like this
beautiful stream, has tloated away calmly and
peacefully, into the better and firer ocean of
Paradise
And yet, this beautiful river, rolling onward
before me, must needs encounter many troubles
of wind and storm and rapids. ere it shall mark
the goal OF its hopes; and even then, a tempcs
tous many cast it rcstlesSly about until.
wearied and sick, it is lifted from the troubled
waters to the broad sky again, frOrA whence it
must soon return DER all the troubled way to the
Satne restless grave.
But not so with her of whom write. Her
sweet life ended soon, that she dreamed of
Heaven while slumbering on earth. Her eyes
were ever lifted to the pure light that shUne
through the widows of the "other land" !" and the
stream of her life hoYed into the calm and
peaceful ocean of His love, where storms are
never known, and every heart is at peace for
ever.
Oh! il there is anything beautiful in the
world to look upon, it is the hushed aud silent
face of one, who, in her youth and beauty, with
all the music of life's entcing melodies floating
through the chambers of her pure and gentle
heart, calmly wrapped the mantle of death about
her, and walked away silently to Heaven. You
know that the heart is cold and still, but you
Scl luc messenger COIHeS ~ ucIt dS GOHloS
a little child to vase of early flowers, that
first she smiles swcctly on, and then takes to
her bosom and presses long and tenderly.
The soul of pure young girl is like unto Il
lost bird-a lost bird that has wandered away
from its sunny home, and strives in vain to find
the airy road that would lead it back again. 1t
restlessly seeks the old home by day, and at
night, when sumhering on some less fragrant
tree dreams Of the spicy isles and perlumed
winds ii left so far behind. But in the repining
eve the sun has kissed the dcwy hills with
his golden lips, the little bird, refreshed and
strong. lifts up its weary heart, and wings its
way to the clear, blue sky, until the breath of
the distant land comes freShening on its weary
wings, and quickly leads the wanderer to the
beloved home again.
So it was with her soul-a soul that had wan
dered away from Heaven and longed to be at
home again. Weeks and months and years
passed away, and yet she could not find the
forgotten path. Patient and forbearing, she
complained not, but went on in the journey of
life calmly and peacefully. In her dreams there
came familiar voices, and often she heard the
music of angels, and felt sometimes the touch
of Heavenly hands. Blu. one day the windows
of Paradise were opened, and through their
golden curtains came the perfumcd wind from
off n thousand tlowery hills, until her soul cX
tended its long forgotten wings, and scared |
away to the old and blessed home in Heaven.
Oh! tell me, weary heart wherever thou
maySt ne, when you remember All tile hopes oI |
your life that ware blghted, all the dreams OF
your soul that were darkened, all the anticipa-
tions Of your heart that were forever stled-
tell me, would itnot be sweetcr to lie down aud
die as the hero died, than to live on through |
care and sorrow, and night and pain? Alas
that we should so fear the gentle hand that would
lift up our hearts and end the dream of our
agony in the blessed reality Of eternal peace.
But now the curtains of night We're dropping
softly on the rivers trembling breast, and beau
tious stars were shining in its bosom's depths
as if God bad arrayed the river for bride. The
dim and distant hills looked on in wonder, while
the beloved moon softly steals upon the holy
night All is still and calmly beautiful And
in the silence of this blessed hour, with heart
full Of dear aud holy memories, we turn away
from the darkness OF death to the light of Heny
en-, from the dreaded grave to the resurrection
eternal; from the coffin and the shToud to the
spehdor of Jerusalem; from the tears of bro
ken hearted mother, to the hdtte'rjGhs OF
blessed daughter. j. ID. NJ. z.
wnEELISs, April, 1859.