Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1866-07-14
MISCELLANY.
DREAMING AND WAXING.
From The Citizen.

From The CltiZehs - -
There is no heart, young, hopeful
and ambitious, but has its own theory
concerning life; If mine led me to seek
happiness in beauty and sentiment only,
and failed me, ib was because L was less
sincere than those who seek for truth
with colder and austerer eyes? Could
1 know that between me and my hopes
intervened long-tidal pillows of de
spair-deadly calms and inauspielOus
winds? Guild foresee that lips would
pale and eyes grow dim, reading wreck
ed, the ship Young Dreams, on ITS yOy-
age out to the Promised l1nd?" se.
Down in the deep waters lies the
wreck of what was once SO perfect;
loathsOme weed trails over mast and
spar, that have been touched by wor
Shipping hands; great laundering waves
drift over silken sails that have been
kissed by spicy airs; lovely mermaids
floating low look sadly ON the wreck of
human hopes, aud with white hands to
their lips e. stop the tinkling laughter,
steal away tn other haunts; Shiny mon
sters of the deep crawl over 1t with
wondering eyes; but time, nor mould,
nor VexiDg waves, nor any Vesture OF
decay can change it; for floating ever
round, like the ghost of hope and JOY,
Is wOman's face, that with its magic
renews forever the splendid beauty of
the ruin.
A woman's facet Won can see it yon-
der on the wall, It's brightness subdued
by funeral folds of Grape; but no touch
OF artists pencil could bestOw the look
she wore when first we met. i saw her
first in the pleasant English garden on
the outskirts of Munich; after day
Ioitered Idly through in crowded streets
aud darkcned galleries, / stole away
there for an hour of twilight calm
She sat on a bench under q dropping
tree. her small hands claSped, her fair
hair waving back from the perfect face,
her blue eyes fixed, yet absent, as If IL
troverted upon some pleasant memory;
"A haIf-opened portfolio of sketches lay
on the seat beside her. Had she too
been lingering in some artists studio
til Murillo or Titan had Touched her
with that spiritual look upon the fore
head? 1 watched her with an impatient
fear lest she should rouse mp from that
thoughtful attitude. Bat the crowd
strolled noisily past, coarse peasant wO-
men, and gay, careless malde0s, and
children pulling the flower from the
grass, all came aud went without her
moving once, till little peasant boy,
his yellow hair fancifully crowned with
ivy, sauntered y singing a plaintive
German song, the burden Of which,
overland. verlarenF' rose and died away
in a mournful melody. She started,
gave one quick, half-frightened look at
the singer aud the listening crowd, then
snatching up her portfolio glided swift
w away. / stopped one moment TO
gather the violets that had fallen from
her handkerchief as she arose, then
quickly following her: but she was lost
IN the deepening gloom,
/ met her often after that; In grand
old churches, where she knelt motion
less through long, fervent ceremonies;
~ cool, still galleries, standing with
rant ewes before the pictures of the In
FAINT Christ; IN twilight strOlls through
pleasant gardens, till in her smile WAS
centered all the sunshine of my life
She was such n woman AS men IN all
ages of the world viii love for loves
sake only. Reserved, yet full of sweet
est sympathies, looking ON life with
steadfast cheerful eyes-strangely sway
ed by beautiful impulses, she seemed
to me child whom some strange eX-
perienee OF life had prematurely devel-
Oped into a glorious woman-a woman
whom SORROW had touched but not cor
roded-only refined her into tender
sensibility. ..r.-.
Her speech and manner betrayed q
sometime association with a strange
people; she wore quaint little ornaments
cf barbaric workmanship, and once
white looking over some sketches oil
Alpine scenery, she spoke of the lonely
grandeur of summer passed IN wan.
dering among the Carpathian noun
tains.
We were married, Knowing little Of
nothing of her past life, / took her x
my heart with entire love, aud trust
and shTined her there it's idol. There
were none to care or wonder whithe
our rambling footsteps led MS, so w
came here TO this pleasant Sicilial
home that fronts the Mediterranean
From our garden walls we could fling
cactus-bIossom into the blue water
while behind us lay long stretches o
hills, down whose dusty paths swarth.
peasanis urged their dusty mules ladel
with grape and olive. We lived quiet
ly making no friends, for we neede'
none; to us the beautiful world of on
own love was enough. The month
whirled round and brought to MS n
change, till, when two years had passed
it seemed to me that the lonesome
drifting pillows all were setting in mu
murous ripples to the shore; that ha
anchored safely in the harbor of 10
Promised Land. But too soon tin
change came, swift andrelentless. Th
keel that had fiOated to the tune {
rocking murmurs down sun-sweI
beaches, shot down swift currents ini
desOlation.
We sat together in the same ROOF
these last happy hours of my life. Sun
mer heat had gone, aud what chill ,
your cold. Northern winter can pen'
trate our balmy air, had reached u.s.
AS the twilight came down cool an
gray, she had wrapped around her a ca
rionsly colored mantle, a gay barbar