Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-06-07
rms oHnD,N THE GRAVE,
BY HANS cHnIsFIAN AsDsRssn.

SOD, his parents present 10Y and future nope,
TsSessd " daughters they had, indeed
old enough to be cobfrmed-amiable sweet
giils they both were, but the lost child is al
Ways the dearest, and be was the youngest,
abd a son. Il was a heavy trial. The sisters
sorrowed as Young hearts sorrow, aud we're
much afflicted by their parents grief; the
father was weighed down by the affection,
but the mother was quite overwhelmed BY
the terrible blow. By night and by day had
she devoted herselfto her sick child, watched
him, lifted him up, carried him about, done
every thing for him herself. She had felt as
If he were q part of herself She could not
bring herself 70 believe that he was dead
that he should be laid in a coffin and con-
cealed in the grave. God would not take
the child from her Q no And when he was
taken, and she could no longer refuse to be-
lieve the truth, she exclaimed, in her wild
grief; God has not ordained thisl He has
heartless agents here on earth They do
what they hst-they harken not to a mothers
pIayersP
She dared, in her woe, to arraign the Most
High and then came dark thoughts, the
thoughts of fredericksburg ~death-that
human beings returned as earth to earth,
ard then all was over. Amid thoughts NOR
bid and impious as these, there could be
nothing to console her, and she sank into
the darkest depth of despair.
In these hours of deepest distress she
could not weep. She thought not of the.
young daughters who were left TO her her
husbands tears fell on her brow, but she did
not look up at him-her thoughts were with
her dead child; her whole heart and soul
were wrapped up.iu recalling every Eemin-
iscsnce of the lost one, every syllable OF his
ipfsntile p%rattle.
The day of the funeral came. She had
not slept the night before, but to ward morn
ing she was overcome by fatigue, and sank
for a short time into repose. During that
time the coffin was removed into another
apartment and the cover was screwed down
with as little noise as possible.
When she awoke she arose and wished to
see her child. Then her husband, with tears
in his eyes, told her, eve have closed the
coffin; it had to be donel'
when the Almighty is so hard on me,n
she exclaimed, "why should human beings
be kinder" and she burst into tears.
The coffin was carried to the grave. The
incoDsolable mother sat with her young
daughters. She looked at them, but she did
not see them; her thoughts had nothing
more to do with home she gave herself up
to wIetchedDess, and it tossed her about as
the sea tossed the ship which has lost its
helmsman and its rudder. Thus passed the
day Of the funeral, and several days fol-
lowed amid the same uniform, heavy grief.
With fearful eyes and melancholy looks her
afflicted family gszed at her. She did not
care for what comforted them. What could
they say to change the current of her
mournful thoughts2
1t seemed as if sleep had fled from her for
ever; it alone would be her best friend,
strengthen her frame and recall peace to her
mind. Her family persuaded her to keep
her bed, and she lay there as still as if buried
in sleep. Ont night her husband had list
ened to her breathing, and believing from it
that she had at length found repose and re-
lief, he clasped his hands, prayed for her and
for them all, then sank into a peaceful slum-
Der. While sleeping soundly he did not
perceive that she rose, dressed herself, and
softly left the room and the house, TO CO.
whittier her thoughts wandered by day and
by night-to the grave that hid her child.
She passed quietly through the garden, out
to the fields, beyond which the road led out
side of the tow to the church-yard. No
one saw her, and she saw M one.
IL was a fine night; the stars were shining
brightly, and theair was mild, although it
was the 1st of September. She entered
the church. yard, and went to the little
grave; it looked like one great bouquet of
sweet scented flowers. She threw herself
down and bowed her head over the grave,
as if she could through the solid earth be-
bold her little boy, whose smile she remem-
bered 30 WILDLY. The affectionate express
blOu VI LIS CJOnt CNCu upOu III slCh uCui was
never, never 70 be forgotten. How speak
ing had not his glance been when she had
bent over him, and taken the little hand he
was himself to weak to raise. As she had
sat by his couch, so now she sat by his
grave but here her tears might flow freely
over the sod that covered him.
HWouldst thou descend to thy childP"
said a voice close by.
1t sounded so clear, so deep, its tones went
to her heart. She looked up, and near her
stood q man wrapped in a large mourning
cloak, with q hood drawn over the head
but she could not see the countenance under
this. 1t was severe, yet encouraging his
eyes were bright as those of youth. "De-
scend to my ehildl she repeated and
there was the agony of despair in her voice.
"Dafest thou follow me 2" asked the fig
ure. 81 am Deathlp
She bowed her assent. Then it seemed all
at once as if every star in the heavens above
shone with the light Of the NOON. She saw
the many-colored flowers on the surface of
the grave move like a fhuttering garment.
She sank, and the figure threw his dark
CLOAK around her. 1t became night-the
night Of death. She sank deeper than the
spade could reach. The church-yard lay
lk a roof above her head.
The cloak that enveloped her glided 70 one
side. Isl stood in an immense hall, whose
extremities were lost In the distance. II
was dusk around her; but before her stood,
and in one moment was clasped to her
heart, her child, who smiled on her in
beauty far surprising what he had pos
sessed before. She uttered q cry, though it
was scarcely audible, for close by, and then
far avey, and afterward near again, came
delightful music. Never before had such
glorious, such blessed sounds reached her
ears. They rang from the other side OF the
thick euftain-black as night-that separ-
ated the hall from the boundless space Of
eternity.
MY sweet mother my own mother p sht
heard her child exclaim. II was his well
known, mostbeloved voice; and kiss fol
lowed kiss IN raptuous Joy. At length thu
child pointed to the sable curtain. 'A
There is nothing so charming up yonde
on earth, mother. Look, mother look q
them ALL That is felicityf7
The mother saw nothing-nothing In til
direction te which the child pointed, excep
darkness like that Of night. She saw wit
child whom God had called 10 himself. Sh
heard, indeed, soundB-music but she al
not understand the words that were con
veyed 10 these exquisite tones.
III can fly now, mother" said the child
"heaa fly With all the other happy children
aEeys even into the presence Of God.
wish 90 much TO got but If you cry on Z
yeg are crying now ! can pot leave you
q yet should be so glad to go. May
notf goa win oome back soon, win 70
not dear mother p
sOhs stay oh, stayf9 she cried, q oni
one moment more. Let me gaze on 70
n moment longer let ne kiss you, an
hold you q moRaeqt longer in my arms
And she kissed him, and held him fas
Then her name MAS called from aboYe-fh
tones were those Of piercing grief. VIII
eouId thew hafI
SHsTE aid the child. It is my faith
an. And % srs ssa i I ssw seconds deep q