Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1865-04-14
NO.. 8.
a for the Cedar Falls Gazette.
Visiting the Old MOnN

"1Iome n where the heart is;" TO
matter how iowly or humble It may be,
the heart of the wandercr ever turns
with longing to that hallowed spot.
| Twas there we bade OUR mother a heart
felt good-by, as we launched our fratl
bark on life's stormy ocean, The years
have rolled swiftly by: grief has DIM
med our once bright eyes; care has
stamped It's impress on our once smooth
brow, and our form that once was proud
Is bending with age. And now memo
| ry reverts to the scenes of our child
hood, and we long chow vainly!) for the
friends of our youth-lons for a father's
kind words and u mothers gentle voice
but, alas! they are gone, and many
times the flowers have blossomed and
faded their graves! t' faf
| We resolve to visit the old llonastead
/, From afar off we see the spires or our
native village, glistcnings in the sun
shine, pointing ndmonitively to heaven.
An indescribablc melancholy takes pos
session of us, which deepens rs we enter
the familiar old place, and, passing up
the oft-trod streets, meet none of the
friends who were wont to greet us in
the" days or yore. We reach the old
gate at the Old hometead, unlntch 1t
nervously and pass into the old door
yard. We lookSabout u.s.. but zee no
change. The leaves on thc old tree,
beneath which weplayed long ago. are
as green as ever, and yondcr the brook
Emurmurs the same sweet muaic 1t did
] I"twenty years ago" We enter the
dear old house and hear orr hearts are
made sad by the witnesses which rise
up TO proclaim the changes time has
wrought. Where are the loved ones
who were wont TO be here? An echo In
our heart answers, "Asleep i'm DEATH"
Tears spring to our eyes, but we reso-
lutely crush them back. The wind
shakes the windows with amournfnl.
dreary sound, and our footsteps echo
strangely as we pass through the de-
serted rooms. All is bare, cold and
rcomfortless -liothing Is here but dust
and decay, andt the silence which reigns
supreme is oppressive. With an al
most bursting heart we turn away, cast
ing one long, lingering look at our once
cheerful home. We next visit the VIII
lagc cemetery, and, wdiking among the
graves, almostunconsciously pause BE-
side. two mounds lying side by side
Father and nlothcrs eRslecping here
The tears fall thick and fast now, and
at our feet Trey glitter on the green
grass, rs in childhood we used to zee the
dew. Memory Is busy now, and fond
reTbllections and vain regrets fill our
heart. But in the whirl Of life we have
not long 10 tary ever In this sacred
spot. Plucking one fragrant flower
from mothers grave, we turIsslowly
and sadly to leave, perhaps forever,
these sacred mounds, and MS we walk
away we can scarcely see our path
through the binding tears. Their
home Is now in heaven; our home il
yet on earth. Not long will 1t be So
Time in its fight will soon bring US to
the tomb-that darkest portal" to
\ Ieternity. With this thought we go
Y back into the world, better than We
were and with hope and trust renewed
in the coming OF u time when, lying
down in death, we shall he reunited to
our loved ones in the land beyond the
grave J.. NJ