Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-06-22
.Cgoiff 4trature,
NIX.
A STORY OF A VANS HEART.
BY KAfoLL.

BY kAs OIL.
j The rain is slowly ing upon the roof,
T and the cold March IS moaning past
the corners of the hon But it has not
been raining and the nd has not been
moaning all day. 1aaorning was a
i beas,tifal bright eae; Is "a came gayly
| up rom the tops of thefbs hill just in
front of our quiet parsoaad dand the blue
sky seemed the brig ightr BID as its silvery
rays were flung halfway ross it. But
after it had reached the mide Of the blue
after its journey had beersl performed
the clouds began to gri grayer and
heavier-they no longer fed lightly (it
seemed joyfully as welD aess the suns
pathway; but they laggedlong in their
westward route like weary, ae-worn, foot
sore travellers. Then the nd began to
sigh and moan past the ldess branches
of the naples; and, after a he, the rain
drops began to visit US, too and now we
can see no sun, no blue sB no floating
cloudlets. Above US. all is reariness and
tears around us is is the ba brown trees,
standing in in their dignity IS memorials
of a winter that God has giA US and has
taken from us-and in manR heart there
is the same sad feeling that eents itself in
the sigh Of the wind-spirit
How many lives there ar,ike this day
whose morning has been bE ht and beau
tiful-whose young hearts kFe been bless
ed by the sunlight of home nd of happi-
ness, but whose afternoons irGfe have been
like this one-sad and tearfus and drearyi
Heaven help all those wh have loved
and lost that morning sunligt of love, and
bliss, and beauty! And inkhe glorious
by-and-by that the hearts ofte weary look
so eagerly forward to, they vii find more
blessed sunlight, higher biz a more glo-
rious beauty, if they lock brward with
faith to its far-off dimness! All! waiting
and loving must bring the dnning from
somewhere in the sometime In Gods
good time, the winning shall come to them
more than compensating them in its be-
wildering glori6cations, for the shadows
and the tear-drops, and the going down oi
their sun at noon-day!
The rain-drops and the wind -sighings, to
day, bring with them sad memories Of 9th
fi biueastH 81 sefgs4 Aaa sdgp an4 HR
the sunlight and dims the lovel;ness of tht
sky; and have taken up my pen this at
ternoon to unfold upon these pages wo
mans heart, and copy from that other re
cord what the finger of love and the keel
markings Of destiny have imprinted upol
it.
Many years have flown by since stoo1
on that beautiful June evening, and whis
pered, amid my happy tears, my love fo
Mark Ingersoll. never shall forget tha
night! The moonlight has never sine
seemed as bright or as glorious-the sta1
never have looked on since with such
loving gaze upon the far-of mountains an
the nearer blue hills--the brook in th
meadow has never since murmured so swe'
, song; and it swept past US and murmure
on, until we lost sight of it amid the clu
ters of alders and pines that shaded it f
, some distance below us.
And Mark seemed SO proudly hapr
, when he knew that, in the future to whic
we looked so hopefully forward, the
: would be one heart beating alone for hi
: that pair Of hands would clasp ther
selves at his comings, and pair of larg
brown eyes would sorrowfully watch
Y departings for he knew that his depal
It ings and comings would be often: he W
2 first lieutenant; and he would have to lea
b his family hearth-stone, and rovein foreie
e lands, and rest at strangers firesides. B
e We forgot all the pangs of parting VIII
IS Mark SO glowirgly described his not
= ocean home. How his dark blue ey
o kindled and his face glowed when he to
n US Of the "deep, blue sea!"--of its ri(
d glowing beauty-of its wide, restless hes
o ings, and of the snowy foam that follow
% his vessels path, and reminded him Of
S, snow that he imagined rested on the mou
a tain-tops Of his native land.
d Destiny, he said, had brought him
e, Eaglecliffe Parsonage; and destiny, th'
es must have thrown as two together. E
IS stop! Could destiny have converged {
re life-paths until they were both brought
e. to one-that looking adown it from
as path of its conveyance, seemed SO love
n so fower-strewn? Could destiny b;
a. given US such glorious hopes?--pictu
,e. for US such glorious future, when
:" "Liie should be all poetry,
ht And weariness a name?"
At
ur Such thing could not be. 1t was,
en- my father said, when we came back
. that night to the parsonage, and asked
he blessing, the hand of Providence,
ed tracings of whose fingers man could
lid behold, had brought us together. !
ess to that Providence we must look thro
for the days of the year of our earthly
re- grimage; and then, when this was owe
he after all these days had left for their
nings, and the evenings had flown by
the years-there would be glorious
from this pilgrimage which we both m
70 enjoy. We heard but little save his l
! IN INJURED blessing. Our hearts were too
tom sy conjuring up more lovely fancie'
note we'll his faltering words.
n; After weeks visit he left US bu
to the late autumn he ran up again to s.