The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1867-05-15
FROM THE CRAVE.

FROM THE CRANE.
BY MRS. LAURA GwYNN, OF s. c.
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger,
AT whose approach, ghosts, wandering
here and there, =
Troop me homo to church-yards.
Shakespeare.
Mrs. N was an invalid when
I first knew her. She came to us in
the spring of 16-, from her far
Southern home, in quest of that best
of blessings, health. She had been
awoman of remarkable personal at
fractions, and her form and face,
though wasted and faded by sickness
and age, still bore traces of peculiar
and striking beauty. Her form was
tall, graceful and majestic still, and
her. face was fine enough for Gre
clan model: Her extraordinarily
black as midnight-was now silvcry
with age, but abundant, glossy and
curling. Her complexion, though
quite pale, was smooth as polished
marble; and her eyes-her most re-
markable feature-fne, full and dark.
defied alike the ravages of time and
disease. She was then seventy wears
old, and suffering from painful and
deadly malady, yet her mind was un.
impaired, and, during her intervals
OF comparative ease, her conyersa-
t1on was animated, interesting md
intelligent.
Mrs.. N was not q Christian.
and often spoke of the Bible and its
believers In O vein of bitter sarcasm.
L know not what were her religious
opinions. She seemed to believe in
the existence of an over-ruling Deity
an all-pervading spirit of the uni
vesse-and often spoke of her God as
being superior to the God of the
Bible, IN mercy and goodness. :
For some months after she came to
us, she was able to walk and ride O.
little every day, but, as the summer
advanced, she waxed feebler, and
when autumn began to "sprinkle
penitential dust and ashes on the
ehestnut's head" she was unable to
leave her chamber.
One pleasant September morning.
as l sat by her bedside, she at
tempted to arise unassisted, but find
ing herself too weak, she sank back
upon her pillow, exclaiming:
IL shall die soon. / am weaker
than 1 have ever been. Iknow that
my time on earth is short, and O few
the end"
'But you will live again." + an
swered, "and the. grave is but the
portal to another and better world"
"Who, my FRIEND" she exclaimed,
hath been to your better world, and
hath ever arisen from the grave to
tell us that we shall live again? Your
Lazarus, though four days in his
charnel cave, tells us nothing of the
mysteries of another life. As I said,
l shall die ere many days will pass;
and if there be another state of exist
ence, 1 solemnly promise you that, if
It be possible, I will return and, re-
veal it to you"
A few days after this conversation
TOOK place between us, she died. 1
saw her form arrayed in the grave
clothes, her face bound in q napkin,
and her hands and feet (which 1
thlnk q very barbarous and revolving
.oustom) firmly bound together. /
saw her lie, stiff and stark. in her
CONN. L saw the coffin lowered into
It's last resting place, and the clods of
the valley thrown over it!
The night after her funeral, and
the third after her death, 1 was suf-
ifering' from very. severe spell of
headache. I drank cup of tea and
went early to bed. 1 left candle
:Wick Pickering in the socket when
laid myself down, and 1 noticed that
me tuil moon hung low over the
norlzon, and cast its pale beams
through the thick branches of an oak
that grew just outside my window.
Being racked by pain and unable
to rest, L arose about 12 o'clock and