Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1868-12-23
THE OLD WIFE'S KISS
THE SOLITARY GRIEF.

The funeral services were ended, and as the
voice Of prayer ceased, tears were hastily
wiped from wet checks, and long drawn sghs
relieved suppressed and choking sobs, as the
IS mourners prepared to take leave of the
corpse"
1t was an old man who lay there, robed for
the grave. More than three score years had
whitened those locks, and furrowed that brow.
and make those stiff limbs weary of life's
journey, aud the more willing to lie down and
rest where weariness is no longer burden
The aged have few to weep for them when
they die The most of those who would have
mourned their loss have gone to the grave
before them harps that would have sighed
sad harmonies are shattered and gone and
the few that remain are looking cradIeward
rather than to liie's closing goal are bound
to, and living in, the generation rising, more
than the generation departing.
while hving, have many mourners when dy-
ing and many fearful ones bend over their
cofined clay, many sal hearts follow in their
funeral train. But age has few admirers,
few mourners.
This was an old man, and the circle OF
mourners was small two children, who had
themselves passed the middle Of life, and who
had children of their own to care for and be
cared for by them Besides these, and few
/ friends who had seen and visited him while
he was sick, and possibly had known him for
few years, there were none others to she'd
tear, except his old wife. And Of this small
canipany the old wife seemed to be the only
heart mourner. 1t is respectful for his friends
to be sad a few moments, till the service Is
/ performed and the hearse out Of sight. 1t is
very profitable and suitable for children who
have outgrown the feryency and affection Of
youth to shed tears when an aged parent
says farewell, and lies down to quiet slumber
Some regrets some recolectiCns of the past
some transitory griefs, and the pangs are
over. Not always so. But, often how lit
tie true genuine heart sorrow there is.
The old wife arose with difficulty from her
seat, and went TO the coffin to look her last
look, to take her last farewell Through the
fast falling tears she gazed long and fondly
down into the pale, unconscious face What
did she see there ? Others saw nothing but
the rigid features of the dead she saw more
In every wrinkle of that brow she read the
history of years. From youth to manlpod
from manhood to old age in Joy and sor.
row, in sickness and health, it was all there
when those children who had not quite out
grown the sympathies Of childhood were in
fants lying on her bosom, and every yeaI
since then, there it was To others, those
dull, mute monitors were unntelligible ; tC
her they were the alphabet of the heart, ia
miliar as household words.
And then the future " What will be
come Of me ? What shall | do now ?" Sh,
did not say so, she did not say anything, bu
she felt it, The prospect Of the old wife is
couded The home circle is broken, neye
to be reunited the visions of the hearth
stone are scattered forever. Up to that hou
there was home to which the heart Away
turned with fondness But that magic il
sundered, the keystone of that sacred arch i
fsllan, and now home is nowhere this side o
heaven. What, children be a pensionei
lppou their kindness, where she may be more
Rof burden than blessing so at least, sh'
lihinks. Or shall she gather up the scattered
fragments of that broken arch, make them he
temple and her shrine sit down in her still
solitude beside its expiring fires, and die
What shall she do now
They gently crowded her away from tn,
dead, and the undertaken came forward witt
the coffin lid in his hand, 1t is all right an,
proper, of course it must be done but L
the heart mourner it brings kind of shud
der, thrill of agony.
The undertaken stood for a moment will
a decent propriety, not wishing to manifes
rude haste, but evidently desirous of being
as expeditions rs possible. Just as he wa
about to close the coffin, the old wife turneC
back, and, STOPPING down, imprinted one long
last kiss upon the cold lips of her dead hus
band, then staggered to her seat, buried hel
face in her hands, and the closing coffin hiC
him from her sight forever
That kiss Fond token of Affection anC
Of sorrow, and memory, and farewell
have seen many kiss their dead many sucl
seals of love upon clay cold lips, but mover
did sec one so purely sad, SO simply heart
touching and hopeless as that Or, if il
had hope it was that which looks beyond cof.
fins and charnel houses, and damp, dark
tombs, to the joys Of the home above. Would
you kiss the cold cheek Of infancy 7 there
is poetry it is beauty hushed F; there is ro.
nance there for the faded flower is still
beautiful In childhood the heart yields tc
the stroke Of sorrow but recoils again with
elastic faith, buoyant with hope. But here
was no beauty no poetry, no romance. The
heart Of the old wife was like the weary swim