The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-05-17
VOLUME 26.

upon was forgotten, and new solitary sta
shone there which had never seen before
Oh thought |. if this be love, how power
full is its transport
Day after day passed away and every ev
ening Frances came to see my sister.
loved her in the very depth of my soul, anC
yet dared not breathe one word OF affection
into her ear. She seemed 80 pure that ev
erythng was hallowed by her touch; 81
kindhearted and joyous that everything wal
gaddened by her presence; and yet as un
conscious of her loneliness as the wildaowel
that has never been looked on but by the
eyes of heaven. Yes | loved her, anC
every time | met those deep eyes my heart
glowed with pUrer love a more entire de
votion. Those were days of enchantment
but they could not last. The time came fol-
me to leave her, and felt that | was leav
ling the gate of paradise to wander over a
blighted world, from which every thing
that was beautiful had departed and for
lever.
1t was the last evening we were to pass
in that village, and she had parted with
Mary as met her on the stairs | asked
lber if she would walk awhile on the bank
of the stream that flowed behind the village
She consented. and we turned down the
green lane that led to the river side. The
shadows of twilight had fallen over the
scenery and one of the sweetest landscapes
in all New England was reposing under the
soft light of the moon. | knew that in a
! little while should see that lovely form
perhaps no more | wished to fan my
hopes in flame or extinguish them at once.
| ho thntfuapJ fftpao thotb onr do
plored that did not then tell Frances all
my feelings; it would have saved Us both a
world of misery. But could:not. l made
the effort but it was unavailing. 1t was the
most bewitching period of my life. There
was an indescribable charm over existence.
[ dreamed the heart of man was without
envy and the world without foe. Thank
God-it is all over now and | will tell it
all.
We held converse about the glorious
heavens above us and the verdant earth be-
meath our feet; of the world and all its en-
chanting pleasures. Ono word | left un.
said, and that word was all the world to
me. did not, could not whisper, love! =
1t was charmed word could not utter =
We passed on and came up through an av-
enue of trees to her fathers house. We
stood at the door where we were to part ;
again L tried to summon resolution to make
my confession, but painful agony stifled
the effort. then thought | would write to
her after our separation, and asked her if
might do SO. She said she would always
be glad to hear of my welfare. pressed
her hand with enthusiasm that pressure was
gently returned. gazed on her with affec-
tIOn which | pnuld onH aid far
we'll She returned the word and pressed
my hand long and fervently. The moon
beams silvered tear which was falling
from her cheek | could not resist the i'm
pulse of my affection, and clasped her to my
breast. and kissed that tear away. 1t was
moment of exquisite happiness which man
can experience but once or twice in the
longest life giving a momentary glimpse of
heaven and then losing itself again in hui
NAN cares or less vivid joys,
New hopes may bloom and DAYS NAV come:
OF mider, camer beam;
But there's nothing half so sweet in life,
AS loves young dream -
We parted, and saw her no more. The
next morning we left the village.
| had not yet learned how necessary the
sight of her form, the sound of her voice,
or the spot where we had first met, had be-
come to my happiness. Her image was be-
fore me night and day. She mingled in
every scene OF joy or sadness; she inspired
every hope, and shed over all the future a
soft and holy light. A few days after wrote
to her and poured out my whole soul, and re-
quested an early answer. | should say that
placed my letter 10 the hands of of a young
gentleman whom had frequently seen 10
that village who was about returning, and
who engaged to deliver it to Frances in per-
son. | now felt relieved from the harassing
anxiety which had weighed on my spirits
for my confession was made, and | should
soon know the result.
But day after day and week after week
passed by and heard not word from Fran
ces | was sure she must have received my
letter, and it was certainly eutitled to an
answer. Why did she not, if it was only
to Danish hope Then came the revuIsion
A bright star had risen upon my path-I
had followed it until it led me to despair. ]
had been guided by an angel to the bowers
of Paradise, and then expelled for ever
That was dreary summer to me. The
world; it is true, was glad and beautiful all
around me; joy lighted on every hilltop
and the blithe carol of pleasure was heard
along the silver streams; but was unblest.
Nature seemed to spurn me from her when
| t.'sd to forget my misery and court the
joysI once felt in compauionship.
But it was possible Frances had not re-
ceived my letter. She would not have Civ
en- me leave to write to her unless she in
tended to answer me, for she was too kind
and generous ever to deceive knew that
| was not worthy of her love. Sne was too
pure for the love of earth. But still when
thought Of the many hours | had passed
with her, and the parting scene, and that
falling tear, | could not but hope that she
would suffer me to minister to her life and
spend my own in making hers happy
These reflections determined me to write
to her again. entreated her to answer me
if she said but one word, and that were ia
tai to my hopes. In a few days | received
her reply, and when read it the charm of
life fled forever. She stated that she had
received both letters and had wrote to me
for the first and last time. She had passed
many pleasant hours in my society, and at
one time thought she loved me; but she
now regretted that she had even on one &C.
casion discovered an affection which was
only transient; but she could not love ME
except as FREUD, and must not dream OF
marriage.
now felt that should be fool to
dream an hour longer | woke to the task
of crushing the edi6ce that hope had reared
of forgetting the only being ever loved
of blotting out the armament. | plunged
into the busy world, but her image followed
me there. | fought against my passion in
solitude, but the effort to destroy it only in.
creased its power. A deep gloom settled up.
on my spirit, and had not dreaded the
thought of presenting my soul before th,
throne of God before. Had he summoned il
away, would have ended life which haC
become wretched beyond description This
life was misery, and the future wal
! shrouded IN thick gloom. My health, which
had never been firm, began to yield, l ex
J pected to die IN few months--oh, how glad
would have FASTENED the hour of my de