Fayette County herald. [volume] (Washington [Washington Court House], Fayette County, O. [Ohio]) 1860-1???, 1868-09-17
THE SILENT CITY.


From MoOre's Rural New-Yorkcr.
Only little way from tie busy
streets, thronged with glad and sor-
rowing hearts, where tired hands
so lOhg for rest, where brows grow
weary, as the restless tide of life
ever sweeps on, always the same,
yet not the same,-Only over the
river, and there is rest. Life has
some resting places; there are cool
grateful shades where we may lie
down and sleep softly, with only
Con and the angels to watch over
us,--where we shall never think, as
the sweet flowers bloom, that the
world has never garnered mockery,
for all will be pure and true around
us.
Yes, one of 1,fe's resting-placee.
Death is not here, amid these cool
deep shades, where we only hear the
whispers of the trembling leaves,
and the soft trill of birds. Even
these seem to know there are sleep
ers here, for their songs are low
and sweet. Over yonder, through
the trees, can just see a marble
statue, with one finger pointing up
ward,-upward from the earthly to
the life of the heavenly beyond
Not death,-oh no they only for
get sorrow,-only rest from toll,
and then awake to the blissful need
He giveth His own.
These quiet avenues never echo
the tread of hurrying feet; the
dwellers in this city never weep
their hearts never know pain kind
hands have broght them here, oh,
so tenderly, and pillowed the dear
heads in slumber, then strewn their
couches with flowers. Here, love,
like some sweet priestess, has CHS
eled her most precious thoughts in
marble, wreathed crosses with flow
ers, and plated beautiful crowns,
white and pure as the angel-hands
that hold them. Love lives fOrev-
er, and who can tell what crowns of
unfading beauty infinite love hath
given the glad, free spirits that
wander Vverthe mountains of Hope
on the other shore. ?
Close by Indian Trail Avenue, on
plain stone, read the one word
"Mother." Some home is lonely
now there's a vacant chair by the
hearthstone since she is gone away.
Hush tread softly-she's sleeping.
Poor heart; you say her arms do
not reach for you as they used to,
that her lips have grown cold.-
Look: the angel says "up yonder'
the mother-hea is up there
tender, loving, as when it folded
you so warmly in sweet childhood
Here I read Gather" there "My
Husband" there "Our Child"
All, l almost hear the silvery
laughter that went ripping through
the old home, ere the sweet blue
eyes and golden hair were folded
here.
And there is a lonely mound
where the bending branches car
sweep it caressingly. See, loving
hands have strewn it all over with
sweet gerauiums and pale forget.
me-nots. Some one is wandering
up and down the world very lonely
to-day. There are hands that reach
for the warm clasp of those tha'
lie folded so calmly away undel
those blossoms there are eyes al
filed with tears, because a deat
brow is so white and till,-and
heart that waits and longs to COM
here and be hushed to rest foreve
under the whispering leaves.
And whole homes are here,--al
the dear ones that knelt by the ole
fireside are sleeping now, and tn
angels are watching very lovingly
and far above the glad summer SIX,
bends down in blessed benediction
for COP is love. Softly the bird
sing all through the long, goldel
days, and at night the dews fal
gently, and autumn mornings vii
come when the leaves will rustl
down over cleaning marble an,
tiny mound, but the slumberer
will not waken, for they are at resi-
GRACE G. SLoUGH.
- An orator, perspiring freely
in husky voice, said; I'm shor
a.. 49, ! ..o,,AIav,an CON Onl