Weekly Trinity journal., 1862-06-14
A NOTE ER,s We.
by L. +. WELLS.

" You can't rule me- old woman ~ and an oatl
Came harshy grating on the listless ear,
Rousng the mind from revorie. the while
passed mountain camp. Wond'rng turned
Thinking to see some bearded mountaineer,
Whom years of rough and unrequited toll
Had rendered careless of his mode of speech
And in the person rudcly thus addressed,
Some poor unfortunate, within whose ears, s
The vilest blasphemy makes music sweet. 0-
But sixteen years had passed so lightly DER
The form of him on whom | gazed that more
And more wondered still, that one so young,
SO highly favored, should forget himself
In language which the careless only use.
But soon my wonder was to horror changed,
When told by passing friend that she, to whom
The cruel epithet was thus applied,
Was his own Mothe
Had seen his form
Brought to the level of tn wallowing beast,
Mine should have been the hand to raise him up,
+ or while we pity and degrade the sot,
None but the poor inebriate can know
How strong, how CALLING is the chain which drags
Him low, and lower still, within the depths
OF his own degradation Had | seen
His pif'ring hand upon his ncighbor's gold,
Beneath the folds OF mercy's mantle still
| might have found some corner broad enough
To cover crime like his. For youth in weak
And want, with opportunity combined,
Proves often stronger than the human will.
But from ingratitude so base, so vile,
And so unnatural, | could but turn
With siekening heart away.
That young man yot
viii sore repent those cruel words When ago
Has shown the hollowness of friendships trust,
And one by one, the ties of love he thought
So closely wound around his heart, are snapt
BY chllilg frosts Of stern adversely
Then all too late, pcrchance, he will regret
In ioko o1 IF hand
Which would have pointed out his path through
And buoyed him up, and on, though man iorsook
And IIeav'n its light withdrew. A mother may
And sometime hath perhaps, refused to love,
And strove to bury in forgetfulness
A daughter fall'n but never yet son.
From infancy, when first his tottering steps
Are bent in haste to catch her outstretch'd hand,
Until he finds the summit OF his hopes,
Or sinks beneath accumulatng cares,
A mothers watchful, fearful, prayerful eye
Is ever on his course. She finds in him
Virtues and beauties others overlook
Aud screens with forgiTing, holy love
The erring words and many grievous hults
Which bar his entrance to all other hearts
And sad experience proves that no regret
Can be so poignant as the memory
0i wrongs to those who loved us, and are gone
For he has only learned the death of one
A mother--who has loved him with n love
Which knew no variation, and no shade
OF turning knew. A love which wayward youth,
And folly more mature could not Affect:
A love which time and absence, i'll report,
And calumnys foul breath could never change :
A love which on his op ming eyes looked down
Ere he could name the form on which they gazed :
A love which overcoming time and space
Went out with him through all the walks OF life,
And growing stronger with Increasing years,
Gushed forth at length from her departing soul
In a last blessing on her distant boy
And even while he writes, the memory
OF but few unkindly spoken words
In anger long ago addressed to her,
Sit broodng darker DER his soul today
Than all the other sins which have disgraced
sinful life's career
WEAvERvIfLE, Cal, Feb, 1862.
--Hsperian.