The Kanzas news., 1859-07-16
From the wisconsin Chief.
Pure Gems.

Pure Gems
waiting for the evening train S The
speaker was the oldest of crowd of people,
moving restlessly about the depot. His
form was bowed With years and hard toll;
his hair was white. and his hand tremulous.
There was that in his countenance and man
ner, which always wins confidence and re
spect, and brings up pleasant dream of a
substantial farm home, worthy family,
and life-teaching st the principles of in
: dustry, integrity and honor.
And the old man will not wait long, for
the train is sweeping in on the down grade.
The hours wear away. The sun is going
down. and the shadows are already thicken-
ing over the trak beyond. And there is but
one change on the route-that by the deep
river which rolls between this aud the 9TH
er shore.
More than twenty years ago he secured
. through ticket via the straight and mar
row way whose terminous is in the city of
% the redeemed. Death is 3 mighty en-
gine, and for thousands of years has swept
this down grade, hourly, with loaded trains.
It stops at every station.
We are all waiting for the train.''-
There are the morning and the noon trains;
those filled with children; with the pleas
uIc-S6ckinR anu Tue SOTTOH-SIIICkcHs- We
know not the time when due, but with nois-
less speed, they are coming. "All aboard, -
has startling thrill, and the gentle good
night is spoken not again, for no passenger
returneth.
The soul is adeep and ever restless ocean.
Its tides are ever beating. and its surface
swept by the storm or kissed by the calm.
IL ~
waters, where anchors of hope, and love,
and trust, are deeper droped than human,
eye hath seen. There are times when the
waves of thought break with the gentlest OF
murmuring on the sea shore. They bear
the drift and the fragrance of Thousand
memories which long since were tossed on
the w1eck-strewn beach beyond. Pleas
ant and sad they roll up over the sands. and
retreat with a wierd, dreamy music, and
dying away with sob. Many light wing
ed craft of hope has unmoored in the sun
shine, and gone to the bottom or shivered
on the breakers. Still here aud there, there
is a stern light tossing, and pennon af1oai
in the mist. There is beacon too, be-
yond, which is burning always, and sends
athwart the gloom of the blacklist storm, a
radiant path of steady light. It stands by
the heaven of the still waters where the an
ehor is dropped forever.
How easy the folding-doors of the past
swing ajari a words sound-a fragrant
tribute of the summer uind-opens them
to host of trooping memories. In the
busy day. asd the still, dreamy night, they
come with noisless football, and take their
old places in the long deserted and dust.
covered chambers.1-And they romp, and
laugh. and chat and weep too. as Was their
wont.
F6 Passing Geld feE days since. The fra,
GRANGE of new mown hay came sweetly &c
rs, and vent down where shousand such
of the young spring time are blooming or
with early freshness The smell was {
whole poem OF the troop of summers which
smiled upon the meadows of the homestead
And asit gushed from the stesming swaths
the bobolink caught it up and to his Wild
and yet sveetly liquid music. Gang it IS b.
sang it thirty years ago The shadowy
seeneFy of the swsying grass with its toss.
ing bubbles of daisy gold and the barn
with its swallows and ita creakine NOW,
8 vent by Ike cloud . -
Blessed il is, that while years tramp by,
and the locks are steadily gathering snew,
fhess things so long since garnered. are bud.
ding and blooming = IN the eariy spring