The Grand Haven news. [volume] (Grand Haven, Mich.) 1858-18??, 1863-07-29
THE OLD wIFE's KISS.


hastily wiped of from the wet cheeks,
and long.drawn sighs relieved suppressed
and choking sobs, as the mourners pre-
pared to take leave of the corpse. II was
an old man that lay there, robed for the
grave. More than threescore years had
whitened those locks and furrowed that
brow, aud made those stiff limbs weary
Of life's journey, and all the more willing
TO lie down aud rest where WEAKNESS is no
more suffered, and infirmities no longer
burden. The aged have but few to
weep for them when they die. The most
of those who would have mourned their
loss, have gone to their grave before them;
harps that would have sighed sad harmo-
nies arc shattered and gone; and the few
that remain are looking cradleward ratb
er than graveward-to life's closing goal;
are bound to and living in the generation
rising, more than the generation depart
ing. Youth and beauty have many ad-
mrers while living, have many mourners
when dying. Many fearful ones bend
over their cofIined clay, many sad hearts
follow in their funeral train. This was
an old man, and circle of mourners.-
Two children who had themselves passed
the middle of life, and who had children
of their own to care for, and be cared for
by them. Besides these, and few friends
who had seen and visited him while sick,
and possibly had known him for few
years, there were none others to shed a
tear except his wife. And of this small
company, the old wife seemed to be the
only hcart-mourner. 1t is respectful for
friends to be sad for few moments, till
the service is performed and the hearse is
out of sight. 1t is very proper and suit
able for children, who have outgrown the
fervency and affections of youth, to shed
tears when an angel parent says farewell,
and lies down to quiet slumbers. Some
regrets, some recoIections of the past,
some transitory grief, and the pangs are
over Not always so. But often, how
little true, genuine heart-sorrow there is !!
The old wife arose with difficulty from
her seat, and went to the coffin to take her
last look-to take her last farewell
Through the fast falling tears she gazed
long and fondly down into that pale, un-
conscious face. Whom did she see there I!
Others saw nothing but the rigid features
of the dead; she saw more. In every
wrinkle of that brow she read the history
of years. From youth to manhood;
manhood TO old age; in JOY and sorrow,
in sickness and health-it was all there:
when those children, who had outgrown
the sympathies of childhood, were infants
lying on her bosom, and those dull, mute
monitors were unintelligible; to her they
were the alphabet of the heart, familiar
rs household words! And then the fu-
ture What will become of me? What
shall | do now" She did not say So
she did not say anything-but she felt it.
The prospect of the old wife is clouded.
The home circle is broken, never TO be re-
united. The visions Of the hearthstone
are scattered forever. Up TO that hour
there was home to which the heart al
ways turned with fondness. But that
magic is sundered; the keystone Of that
sacred arch has fallen, and now home is
nowhere this side of heaven! What shall
the old wife do nowl Go and live with
her children! be pensioner upon their
kindness, where she may be more bur
den than a blcssingl so, at least, she
thinks. Or shall she gather up the scat
tered fragments of that broken arch; make
them her temple and shrine; sit down in
her chill solitude beside its expiring fires
and die! What shall she do now! They
gently crowded her away from the dead,
and the undertaken came forward with
the coffin in baud. 1t is all right and