Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1861-01-04

Nay. not alone,
For thou, beloved, art with me.
Did dream?
Methought thy warm breath kissed my fevered
brow,
Thy circling arm reposing on my own,
Ss when, into my hungry ear, thy whisper
Poured its rich tribute of confdng love.
The pen whereyith | fashioned vagrant thought
Dropped from my fingers. All unconsciously
[ turned to meet the soul-ght of thine eyes,
To feel the warmth of thy endearirg slrile,l
To grasp the hand whose touch, in answering touch
Signaled whole volumes of unfaltering Trust
All me twas but dream ! Thou art not here
Noeyes, like stars, meet my imploring glance
No smile, like sunrise, battles me in its beauty,
No touch responsive thrills. | aone
Alone fhow sorrowfut to be alonel
never knew, beloved, till thou vast taken,
The meaning of that bitter word, alone!
feel it now in all its desoation
" hat time stood beside thine open grave
And hean d the clods fall jarrngly and heavy,
Upon thy coflin-lid, my Beautiful,
Oh, then my heart within, With sudden bound,
Seemed to leap from my body, and stretch out
Its warming arms toward thy enshrouded form,
And take It's place beside thee. There it,lay,
Clasping thee in its grasp of passionate grief;
1t would ot be divorced, not ev'n by Death
For when 1 turned me with the parting crowd
1t nestled closer to thy cold, cold clay,
The living with the dead. 1t lies there still!
Leaving me desolate in the world. -Alomei
Nay,l let me chide this sudden burst ofsorrow,
1t is not well to be betrayed by passion
Into this wild forgetfulness of reason.
Twas but what seemed thysef that day we buried,
And tbs not wise to speak thus of the dead
Whom Christ has taken. Thou art living STILL
Oh, my own Love, art thou not with me now +?
look upon my midnight hour of grief
W it'll eyes compassionate ?-it may be, wondering
That this poor heart will not be comforted,
And longing TO uplift the darkened curtain
That wells thee from my vision 1, alone
Thy spirit still holds fellowship with mine
talk with thee, and find my woe assuaged
Find something soothing in these hours of silence,
When thou and sit talking thus togethef
In sweet soul converse, while the world is dark,
For thou, mine own, art perpetual presence
About my pathway. In my restless dreams
Thou contest to soothe the weary hours of Night
And when the cheerful Sun looks through my cur
tainsJ
HIS FIRST beams lighs my soul to Thoughts of tree
And fthy Home, where Day all glorious reigns
And Night holds no dominion. Not alone!
Nay, thou art aOsh me. l am not alone.
have picture of thee, dear departed,
have no picture of THEFT IS we'll
No artist skill could paint thee. Not the Sun
Himself could catch the life of thy sweet face,
And it would mar my joy to look upon
A blank, expressionless. and fading toy,
hpd NV Vnc I bor mir
Hung in the deathless Ii an CT Memory,
Which Time can never dim. In rarest framework
These pictures all stand out before my vision,
And bless me with their beauty. Girlhood's smile
Which won my love, and woman's gentle bearing
Which left its impress on my ruaer nature,
And fashioned me to sweet companonship
With thee, whose heart was fsll of grace,
As flowers of Spring are full of sweet perfume.
Oh, these are pictures which can never fade i
look upon them till my tears kindled
Into blaze of JOY, and l forget
The 'widering sorrow of our separation
In blissfull recollection that to me
Was given love so rare and so excellent.
Still other pictures linger round my path,
Thine eyes-are they not glancing upward daily,
Set meath the sunny curls of sweet face,
Fair as its mothers. Thy expressive smile
Is it not left upon thy child ren's features
Still to illumine my soul in hours of sadness,
And battle me in the warmth of thy sweet love =?
Oh yes, at morn, at noon, a eve, at night
Some trait, some semblance, of the dear departed,
Breaks into life before me. They are here
Standing beside me, motherless alas
Claiming intenser love since thou art gonel
Each motion speaks Of thee and of thy beauty
With these, must not say | am ALONE
od-night, sweet spirit peaceful be thy rest,
Now disembodied, till the welcome voice,
81 AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE"
Shall summon thee to join the radiant host
Of Gods elect, and stand. in form Immortal,
A bright TRANSPORTATION
Ir my dreams
Still come to me, beloved, and let me feel
That am not ALONE.
With these commuhrgs,
bend me to Che Fathers will, and wait
With patience and submission that glad hour
When shall meet again, and death
Dissolve the tie that binds US. Now, good night
| sleep to dream of thee. Y.
l