Wabash express. [volume] (Terre-Haute, Vigo Co[unty], Ind.) 1841-186?, 1860-11-14
Cor the Exprsss.
MEMORY.

The W cary and the winding track,
Through which the days long journey lay,
And sees By that departing light,
That fees 20 fast DER field and meadow,
How distant objects still are bright,
While nearer things are sunk in shadow"
Even so will memory sometimes leap over
more recent years, and bring from the dim
and dusty past, the events Of other days.
as wildly as il they were the occurrence
of yesterday. 1t 10 doubted by many
philosophers. whether anything is ever en-
tirely forgotten, OF whether any event of
ones life. or even the slightest or most
transient thought or impression of the
mind, may not under certain conditions,
be again reproduced. 1t is said, that a
drowning man has his whole life preser-
ted, as it were, in panorama to his mind
during the few minutes Of consciousness at
ter being submerged. Such may not al
ways be the case, but some who have been
resuscitated have certainly so testified.
There are problbay but few persons in ex
istence, but can recall instances in their
own personal experience, in which some
event of less importance than the prospect
of immediate death. has awakened to mem
DRY scenes that had slumbered uniisturb-
ed for years, in some neglected corner of
the brain.
was forcibly reminded of this. and
painfully too, when in Terre Haute few
weeks since. As l was passing by the
court House yard which by the way pre-
sents desolate appearance enough to
aw AIKEN sad recollections of the past in
any event, noticed some young pine trees,
the first have seen for fourteen years.
| The sight recalled to mind SO suddenly the
scenes of my earlier years, in my far off
native land, where the pine was very
common tree. that my first impulse was to
sit down and have a good crying spell
overi it. believe was only deferred from
doing SO, by the presence of too many
spectators. Crushing back, as best could,
the tears that involuntarily started to my
eyes, / hurried on without daring to look
a second time 1t is passing strange. that
so mere a trihe can recall an entire life
time in single instant things that had
not thought Of for many weary year, and
that would gladly never think of again.
il forgetfulness were possible, for unlike
most others, there is nothing = my child
urable feelingsl Your delightful song
bird Blanche" who sings as sweetly in
this Western Prairie land, as in her own
native Eastern home, though perhaps a
little more pensively. in some very pretty
lines on the subject of home, says:
"The dearest spot 10 me, on earth,
Ismy New England home.-
And that sentiment, find to be the pre-.
vailing one among mankind; most persons
whs have arrived to maturity, look back
to childhood as a period of upalloyed
bliss. But not so is it with me; there is
scarcely a scene. or thought, or association
connected with my childhood's home, that
is at all pleasant or agreen BILE, and 1 have
no desire to aver while living. But
when at last this fitful and delusive dream
called life, shall end, as 1 hope and trust
it soon may, and the sooner the better for
me, would faia be borne thither, to rest,
''In the sleep that is dreamless and last
ing and Deep" meath the solemn shade Of
those grand old pine trees, that used to
love SO devOtedly in my boyhood days,
aud for which, still cherish an affection,
that only increases with adv ancing years.
Even yet do fondly remember the sweet
ly pensive music--though half the life
time Of an ordinary generation has passed
since heard it-thst floats through those
venerabls and majestic old pine forests, as
the summer zephyrs play among their ev-
ergreen tops. 1t is a low, sad, hum or
murmur-half sigh, half moan--such as is
heard in no other forest, but not until the
roar of old ocean when heard at some dis
lance on clear, calm, still day, only the
ceaseless anthem that comes yelling up
from the abode Of Neptune, impresses one
with the idea of grandeur, Of sublimity, of
Omnipotencs; while the music of the pine
crest, is the same sound, softened, and
subdued, till it seems like the music of
angel voices, whispering tones Of love and |
mercy to fallen man
would that my last resting place should |
be, where that music might be my requiem. |
But even that small favor, the only one |
ever expect to ask of the sons and daugh-
tiers of earth, is likely to be denied me.
and shall probably be hurriedly hustled
away at last, in SEINE obscure corner of the
village burying- ground, with just as little
ceremony the case will admit of; a pro-
ceeding that my whole soul abhors, and
against which my every flesh revolts; net
that care for the want of ceremony on
the occasion, but that l detest the place,
for would rather the affair were as gay
and as merry as a wedding party than
otherwise. As for that matter:
"I would not mar the thoughtless mirth
or Fashions throng around me now,
Or draw from beauty's lips a sigh,
Or bring cloud DER loves fair brow.
81 ask not from the world a tear,
Its mocking sympathy scorn,
only crave place of rest,
To slumber till 4 brighter Morn:
"But lay me in some quiet glen,
Far from the city's noisy throng,
Where from the green bsughs overhead q
Resounds the summer warbler's song: 1
'swhere from the distant waterfall,
There comes an echo faint and low, liz
In gentle tones to mingle with n
The murmur Of the brooklet's flow;
''And through the pine tops.green and tall,
The gentle breezes softly moan, u
low, sad requiem for him :,
Who sleeps unhonored and alone ~
WILLIE WOODBINE.
FAIRY GLEN, IND.
1t is generally conceded that among "
be prettiest girls at the Princes ball 9
n New, York, were fthe accomplished !, Is
ouobtars Of General Scott Is