The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1869-07-29
SHE is DYING.

oh A. IN III lNNs
Thcfollowing is sublimely beautiful
and pathetic; and could only have been
dicaied by a heart that has experienced
all the bitterness that it is therein ex
pressed. Who the author is we know
not, but suspect it is 40 extract from
some book, II anybody can read il
without moisture in their eyes and stone s
10 their throat, they are worthy Of mar.
Bile.
Hush she is dying! The sunlight
streams through the plate gless window,
the room is fragrant with Southern flow
ers large milk white African lilies;
roses Nightcngale would stop to wor.
ship, cape jessaminps and camelias With
their large glossy leaves.
Through the open easement steals the
faint, musicaltipgle Of playing fountains;
the light tempered pleasantly by rose
curtains OF embroidered satiOs, kindIes
up gorgeous old paintings with a halo
bright Gs the rainbow.
II isas If fresher sunshine we're falling
earthward on the bower Of beauty.
The canary sings in his. eilded ,oags-;
+l4Sftahat5, a6d Chestneestag 6fTd raises
his clear notes higher on the perfumed
air.
Why DO you olench youf hand until
The nails draw the rich rosy blood
through the thin quiserng skin? Why
do you grind yCuf teeth together and
hiss between tbem that one word, hush?
It's beautiful home am sure and that
lady with her hand upon her bosom is
fair as any dream vision of the painter
Surely nothing could be purer than
lha, broad, high brow; nothing brighter
than those curls.
And she loves you too! All yes, any
one can read that In the deep violet eyes
raised SO teudcrIy to your own. All!
that is it: your young wife loves you.
She linked 10 yours the existence Of
an angel when she knelt beside you at
the marriage and placed her band 10
yours,
For twelve golden sumner months an
angel has walked or sal by your side, cr
slept oD your bosom,
You know i'll No mortal woman ever
made your heart bow before e purity so
divine.
No earthly embrace ever filed your
soul with the glory beyond the stars; no
earthly smile ever shown unchsngingIy
above all noisome thiogs We earthworms
call care and trouble. She is m angel.
and other angels have been singing to
her in the long days Of the pleasant June
time
'Hush' you say. You can't shut the
o0tbem notes Of heaven from those un'
sealed ears--longer, hilhcr, swols the
hymns of the seraphs, brighter grows the
smile on your young w,fe's lips.
She whispers, Dearest. I'm almost
home, and I'm going TO ask God to
bless you'll But you cannot hear it,
YOU turn away, and the big tears gather
in violet eyes
You had held her there on your 10"
som all day--aIl night are YOU tired! .
But you can't answer Closer closer
you clasp the light, fair figure, painfully
you press your lips TO the cold brow
Carrie is dead!
What is it TO you that the sunshine is
bright; what that It's cheerful rays fall on
the broad Iands-orr lands? What is
it now that she can walk on them no
more? And what is death-her DEATH
Few peoplo knew her; no wise president
can be chosen to fill her place; no ma
ton will raise monument 10 hep mem.
ory! But she was yours, great God OF
our-your ALL
No, yours and Gods; and your years of
Joy are over, she rests on bis bosom now
in heaven!
They have dug grave ror her
Spring flowers brighten over IL, and the
green grass smiles with the daisOs and
yioets, You 90 there, and Sigh and
pray, and ask God if you. too, may
come home, And when no answer
comes, your bright heart raises up in
bitterness, and with the bold wicked
words upon your tongue, YOU pause, Tor
your guardian angel looks down from