The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1864-03-02
wristan fce tho Msdison patriSt.
"Cast Thy Burden on tbs Lord."
BIZ EMMA +. PRADT.

ponse like the soft cords of a stilled harp,
whose strings are suddenly swept by .
master hand, as Paul put his arm lovingly
around me, and drew me to his great, warm
heart "Come, my little Winnie, bear up
bravely, and Paul will come, with his hon.
ors clustering thickly upon him. You
shall never regret the day, darling, when
you gave your warm, loving heart into my
keeping, or when you gave your soldier
10y to your country" yet, the hopeful
words could not still the awful foreboding
the weary woe in my heart. My soul, in
her grief, cried out. paul! Oh I Paul, I
cannot give thee up.'
How we'll remember that beautiful May
evening-the long lane, whose emerald
sward was studded with golden dandelions,
like stars on the evening sky. The apple.
trees were laden with their delicate bios.
SONS Of pink and white, glowing amid the
green foliage, like the pitched tents Of an
army on the field of battle. Tomorrow,
Paurs regiment would move. Oh! that
dread tomorrow
There, Winnie, darling, don't look so
white, and clasp your hands so tightly over
your heart. Lay your head right on Paul's
shoulder, and let the tears come. Cast
thy burden on the Lord" Winnie: He will
sustain thee. But while the would.be COM
forter bent his young, glowing face down
to mine, the tears fell over it, as fall tho
summer rains over the parched earth and
so that May day died; and, as the sun
threw across the sky its autings Of Grim.
son and gold, and rolled down in his bright
chariot, the May in the heart died too
The morrow came. had hidden Paul
q last good bye. knew it was the last.
| IL IL hn, !02
help those who must feel the weary desc.
lateness of such farewell.
| heard them pass by, but it was In vain
filmy veil seemed to shut them from my
sight; but l felt every thud of the meas.
ured tramp on my already bruised heart;
could only cry, in my soul, God pity me
| ana down through its silent corridors, and
out into its dim galleries, was echoed that
despairing cry, God pity me-" So took
up my life.burden again, and day after day
wore away; nature, meanwhile, growing
more radiant The peerless days went
down into glorious nights, AL set over with
stars, and the lane was quilted with golden
but,ercups and blae-eyed violets; and then
June, the royal flower of summer, bios.
somed out in the great years treasury, and
the roses Paul used to love, hung thick
about the windows, and the robin built her
nest amid the purple bloom Of the lilac
Then cahe my first letter from Paul, full
of tender, hop ful, generous words; and
my heart took up my burden, and all
through its tesselaed chambers ring the
grand pean Of hope and trust.
By and BY came those long paliid nights
in autumn. and still, mellow days, when
September piles her treasury of fruit in the
lap Of the languid summer; when the rosy
apples lay thick amid the tall grass, and'
the golden grain fluttered in soft, biilowy.
waves over the broad fields. There had
been terrible struggle, and The brave men
had been m"wn down ieartully. had not
heard from Paul {; but one Of those bright
days, when the hills wore their hazy crswns,
and the trees shed their crimson and gol.
den glories-that day of dumb, mute an
gush, rose oat Of the arms OF Night, and
walked with her paid face over the crysta-
line floor of September's dawn. When
they brought HIM back to me-my Paul
with his thick, clustering curls falling over
his cold white forehead, then mother in
her quiet tenderness, and her great love,
put her arms about me, and whispered, II
am sorry for you. Winnie; it is to us, not
to him, darling; for God has taken him to-
Himself. Trust Him, daughter-He will
sustain you" Oh! her words did so
strengthen and cool my wasted spirit and
out OF my soul, dumb and sealed like the
rock, smitten by the prophets rod, gushed
out the fountain Of living water;" and as
/ looked again, the sealed lips looked as il
they might have breathed the tender trust,
even in death. And so wore away that
day of awful desolation, with the mute
thing lying there, they called Paul-my
Paul ; and just at sunset, with the mutt1ed
drum beating, like the sorrow.throbs OF
great, warm heart, mourning with me for
him, we laid him in the arms Of the great
earth-to sleep!
To night walk down the lane alone;
but, blessed be God, there is another lane,
where Paul will not say. 'good-bye'-
where the breeze will not grow chill, or the
flowers tade. can SEE, now since the
| winter has come, and the earth lies under
her mating of cryStaliZed gems, how my
weak heart gave Paul the love that should
have beer Gods. SO God took him, that
where my treasure was, my heart might be
also.
No days of insensiblty followed, when
loving tireless watchers bent over me, after
Paul died; but Icing days of burning,
| Soii'" "iicii tNSil '''oeps
its weary tasks for lultillment. Sometimes
have wished t" die, too: but the Father
sent his white.winged angrl OF peace down
into my soul. ami she taught he I" say,
Not my will, Oh! Father, but Th'no =
and this cold, bleak January day. while I
write, with the winters pure quilt above
my Paul, bless God that he gave ne such
love. and in my heart try 10 ''ca>t my
burthen on the Lord" This cruel war;
is not yet over; and to you, wives, moth.
ers, siSterS-all VIII" have Welded Your low
ed ones to your country. write these w"' dS
Of hope and trust. Cast thy burden on
the Lord. and he shall su>taih thee. Tho
voices Of the choir took up the g'a rJIra,n,
last Sabbath. and each note rppled down
tenderly into my desolate soul, aud pray
I'd God to give me strength to live. and
show me what he would have me to do
Some dav Paul will welc me me there, and
, shall be is forever and forever We will
have no bxrdcn there. bless God, no war
no dying; aud Love will stand bv her
gold n font, and hap,ise the redeemed of
the Lcrd. who have coLe up through great
tribuation.
A WoMA>'s PKoMisE.-il,n ,nry Carey.