Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1861-08-07
EBENSBIRG. PA. WEDNESDAY, AUG. I 1861.

shrink when you contemplated this for your
miserable sonl How strange those last words
l thought of them to day, while l made her
wreath of roses, and when her sisters told me of
the numbers who flock around her. Every flower
brought its warning and its sting"
Edward, have L not made haste2 l wished
to keep you company for little while before we
set out. You must be SO sad Your playing
told me you were sad, Edward"
She was standing by him in all the pride of
her youth and loveliness-her white dress falling
all around her graceful form, her sunny hair
sweeping her shoulders, and the wreath sur
mounting brow which innocence and truth
were impressed by natures hand.
The sense of her beauty, of an exquisite har-
mony abont her. was clearly perceptible to the
blind man: He reverently touched the flowing
robe, and placed his hand upon the fowery
wreath.
.'Wiu you think of me, dearest, to night 2
You will carry with you something to remind
you of me. When you are courted, worshipped,
envied, and hear on every side praises of your
beauty, give passing thought to Edward, who
lent his little help to its adornment."
edward, how can you speak so mockingly +?
You know that in saying this you render me
most miserable"
miserable! With roses blooming on your
brow and hope exulting in your heart; when
life smiles so brightly on you, and guardian an
gels seems TO hover round your path"
He spoke in a manner that was unusual to
him. She leaned thoughtfully against the pi-
ano, and, as if unconscious of what she was
doing, disengaged the garland from her hair
'.These poor flowers have no bloom, and this
bright life of mine, as you think it, has enjoy
ment when l think of you, sad, alone, unhappy 4,
returning to your desolate home, Edward"
Dearest he returned, inexpressibly moved,
''do not grieve for me. Remember, my mother
left her blessing there"
''Was it only for you, Edward 2"
There is moments silence he covers his
face with his hands his lofty, selfdenying spirit
wrestles with himself; when, gently the wreath
is laid upon his knee, her arm is passed round
his neck her head with its glory of golden locks,
is bowed upon his breast.
Oh, Edward, take the wreath, and with it take
myself if deserve it. Tell me that you are not
angry, that ycu do not despi-e ne for this.
speak 10 you
MARY, Mary, forbearl You try me beyond
my strength. Beloved of my soul. light of my
sight,ess eyes, dearer to me than language can
express. you must not thus throw yourself
away
He would disengage the arm that is clinging
to his neck, but she nestles closer still.
'Mary," he cries wildly, remember! Blind,
blind!"
mot blind rear me not blind for me. Here,
Edward, here my resting place is found nothing
but death shall separate me from You. 1 am
yours, your friend, your cOnsoler, your wife. Oh,
tell me you are glad.''
Gladl His previous resolutions, his deterni-
nation to owe nothing to her plying love, all
faded in the unequalled happiness of that hour.
nor never returned to cloud the life which Mary's
devotion rendered henceforth blessed.
This is no fiction, reader-no exaggerated pic
ture. Some, who peruse this, will testify out of
the depths of their hearts how, in respect and
admiration, they have watched Mary fulfilling
the promise Of her beautiful sympathy and love.
She has never wavered in the path she chose to
tread she has never cast one lingering look at
all she resigned in giving herself to him. Joyous,
tender, happy, devoted, she has seemed always
to regard her husband as the source of all her
happines and when the music of her chilIren's
voices has been heard within their dwelling. not
even her motherly love for those ear faces whose
sparkling eyes could meet and return her gaze,
has ever been known to defraud their father of a
thought, a smile, or the lightest portion of her
accustomed care.
No, dear Maryl Years have passed since she
laid her wreath ON his knee; the roses, Sc care
fully preserved, have long since withered; but
the truth and love which accompanied the gift
are fresh and bright as then-rendering her, as
her proud husband says, almost equal, even on
earth, to those angels among whom, in heaven,
he shall see her-sEE her, at last, no longer
blind.