The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1869-07-06
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ONLY SEVEN YEARS OLD WHEN
SHE DHED,

ONLY SEVEN YEARS OLD WHEN
SHE Died,
Only seven years old when she died.
Surely the angels must love her dearly!
Bright golden-haired and violet-eyed,
None could eer look on her face severely!
There are children as many as the flowers,
But never was one more sweet than ours,
The latest blossom on an aged tree
Where never blossom again may be.
Once held up my head with the best,
Crowned with three flowers of promise bright;
Two--two of the fairest-Dcath tore from my
breast,
Five years ago, in the self-same night g.
She was the only one left to me,
And I prayed with groans of agony
That burst from my heart "a mingled prayer,
OF hope and doubling and black despair
That He who doeth wisely, whatever betide,
Would be willing to leave her aye by my side.
Still blessing her richly with incr ease of
days,
1t may be He heard me-but ah! His ways
Are not as ours-from,' the heavenly place
Perhaps she lighteneth our life with grace.
Only seven years old when she diedl
Yet the hopes of two lifetimes died with her.
We have not wish in the world wide,
Save that we had gone out on the tide with
her.
The tide has borne them all away,
Sybil and Avis, now little May;
The ebb that never knows turn or flow,
However the full moons come or go
But would not murmur-no complaint
Breaks from the lips asleep or awake,
Of the mother who bore them, making feint
Of being content for my loves sake.
But sometimes her hand clings to her heart,
And at certain hours she sits apart;
And the golden light of sunset skies
Brings a far-oR look into her eyes,
And fear me much that her treasure in Heaven
Her heart from its earth-hold has almost riven,
And soon, hearing the voice of her children
three,
She, too, will drift out to that unknown
''Thc sea of glass for her it should be-
God help me! what then will become of me?
Only seven years old when she died
How our oldhearts took young delight in her,
Our only pleasure, our hope our pride!
Well! He who made her had the most right
in her!
We took her from Him thanksgivingly;
We gave her back-no, not willingly,
But not with repining-God forbid!
Yet think He pardons that we didl
Falter awhile and fail in our praise,
Missing the key to which it was set,
For sweet child-treble in happier days,
The old tune haunts our memory yet,
And we scarce can read, for tears, the page
Of blessings left to our altered age.
Our ''lines" once ''fallen in pleasant places
Blankly stare in our darkened faces,
And our harps on the willows of grief hang
low;
But God, omniscient, has known what we know.
Once the harpings of Heaven ceased sud-
denly,
And His heart was thrilled by bitter cry
The cry of His Sons last agony;
He knows what we felt when we saw her
die.
Only seven years old when she died!
Passed from the earth ere she learned its his
tory!
Now she stands up with the glorifed,
Fully as wise in the heavenly mystery
As they who through great tribulatiot
Fought their way up from every nations
Leavened the world with their life-blood
warm,
Carried the kingdom of God by storm.
Sometimes still they talk of their story
How they suffered, and conquered, and died;
Cleft path on through the cloud to the glory,
She stands listening, wondering eyed,
Nought she knew of toll or endeavor--
Mothers arms were around her ever;
Little of sorrow, doubt, or despair
Half she questions her right to be there
She who has nothing either suffered or done;
Till, suddenly smiling, she looks to the Son,
And, folding her pretty hands revcrently,
Lisps out her child creed most confidently
The same she learned at her mothers knee
"He said, Let the little ones come to me-
Only seven years old when she died!
Seventy long years, yea, and more years still
We have clambered and chung to the side
She stands even now at the top of the hill,
Bright in the beams Of the morning light.
Ours, at the best, is starry night.
We toll on through the dust and the heat;
| She sitteth calm at the Masters feet,
Reading the truth of his lovelit face,
Answering him back glad smile for smile.
We tremblingly shrek out for grace-"Lord
more grace"
| Dreading to meet his look all the while,
So spotted our souls, and moiled with sin,
She shows stainless without and within
A snow white soul with robe like SNOW,
| Weary, and wayworn, and sad we so,
Sorely doubling it, after our course be run,
Our life-lasting journey well battled and done
| when the Judge STANDS up the awards U
divide,
We shall be worthy to stand by her side,
Whose sword was ne'er fcshed, who's
strength was ne'er tried
Who was only seven years old when sh
died!
I-ChamberS Journal.
How to stick to your oath-Swear b
gum.