The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1862-11-01
For The EmpOria News.
PASSING AWAY.


what wealth of thought is comprehended-
what food for ef4aion-what truths for
realization They are written on life's page
in characters not TO be mistaken. Their
still small voices. though drowned in the
busy hum of active life. are echoed to US in
our quiet moments. and speak to US then
these words. patent upon the face of all ma
ture: Passing away" Observe the oak,
from the moment il puts its first tender
shoot upward-a tiny, delicate thing, that
rude breath might crush, Beneath a
smiling sun. famed by balmy breezes, re-
freshed by gentle deEs. it continually adds
new beauties. till. fully expanded. it stands
forth in the glory of perfection-affording
shelter to the weary. traveller. its manifold
twigs and leaves resodadiug With the melody
of birds to cheer him in his lonely moments,
while his eye is raised to this emblem of
strength, but in gratitude and admiration.
But when spring comes again, we cannot
fail to see that decay is busy with the once
beautiful tree-sapping its foundations, de-
stroying its verdure, insnuating itself
through the whole, till in just few short
years its loneliness is gone, and the few re-
naming leaves that cluster around the fading
branches. as they rustic in the wind, audibly
whisper. passing away"
The halcyon days of autumn are with us
once again. The soft, hazy atmosphere
woos US with its very stiffness. and we step
out under Heavens blue canopy and wander
about in sort of blissful dream. Every
where Dame Nature is busy settling up
| the yearly accounts, before winter shall
draw his f1eecy covering over her treasures
for their long sleep. The gaudy flower, that
so lately reared It's head in pride, has
dropped its gayly-colored leaves. but the
cup of carefully nourished seed is still held
only in turn to burst, and pay the tribute
back to mother Earth" We have rambIed
on. till here we are, in the dear old acoods
Here we fn0. instead of the sparkling, dan
cling brook of June, the sluggish stream. OIL
the stagpant pool. The gay carol of birds
and the busy hum of insects are succeeded
by-silence. In lieu of the brilliant livery
of green, so grateful to our senses IN mid
summer, we see only the sere and yellow
leaf, which, even as we gaze, trembles anc
falls before us. o how plainly all thes
records tell that our old year is passing
away We. too. are passing away. The
archives hung on memory's wall show u
: to ourselves as we were yesterday engaged
in all the merry sports of happy thoughtles
childhood. To-day finds us quite as activ'
and less innocent, following prospects o
gain or chasing phantom shapes of pleasure
and arriving just in time to see them vanish
while stern reality points us to the down hi
road on which tomorrow, separated iron
our childish playmates and our youthful
companions, we will tread the mazes c
second childhood = where a little fore
thought might have taught US to shun tn
rough, uneven lodges over which our pat
leads to the uncertain future beyond :
Or, if our lie has been a peaceful, pure an
holy one, we shall readily see the beaulifu
goal in the distance, and as we glide peace
fully down the gentle deciivity we shall b
attended by fragrant zephyrs, sweetly mu
muring. Passing away NJ.