The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1869-04-23
"HOme, Sweet HOme.v


London, and the mantle of mists that
all day long had enveloped the CITY,
grew more dense and fell i'm beaded
drops of rain. The gas lights bnrned
brightly at the corners, but it was %
dreary night to be out in. Yet crowds
filed the streets, for even in the night
storms, the great thoroughiares are new
er deserted. Guilt and wretchedness
are always wakeful and abroad. To re-
alize the desolation Of loneliness, one
must be stranger in a crowded city,
with sensitive nature, and Il refinment
that shrinks from contacts and uncon-
genial companionship.
Alone in the country, with the blue
sky above us. and the blue grass beneath
our feet, there are charms that woo us
to forgettulness. There is music in the
running stream and beauty in the flow
ers that grow upon its banks. Some
German writer, we have forgotten who,
calls flowers the stars Of earth and stars
the flowers of heaven. Fair and rf dant
flowers they are and shed their bright
ness on the smoke -wreathcd citv: but
their matchlcss, softcned and mellOwed
light seem to linger more pleasantly OIL
green fields and waving corn.
Alone in London! Dreary anG desc
late reality, that swelled almost to
bursting a weary and aching heart
The stranger gathered his thin cloak
around bis shiyering form, and drew
his hat over his face. with a sensitive
shrinking from the crowd that r,ldelv
iOstled past him. lie was alone in
London. and very poor not even shil-
n f,-
Somewhere in a dark part of the CITY,
where the gas lights were few, up many
pair of stairs, was the garret in which
he slept, but in it there was nothing
save the darkness, one broken chair and
q wretched bed with its scanty cover
ing.
When he entered this desolate cham.
ber in nights like this. an unseen COM
pany surrounded him. the spirits of
the viewleSs air, and in the wailings of
the wind, they told him strange mystp-
rious tales of wretchedness and dread,
until hall wild with dark imaginings,
he rushed forth in the night and ,he
pelting storm. Thus through the chilli
! ing sleet and rain he walked the streets,
looking into the hard faces of the pass
crs-by and wondering if in all London
there was another man who had no one
to care 1or him, no one to love him.
And then he thought how deiciouslv
strange it would be to him--a stranger
and a wanderer for many yearsAto DO
loved.
He hoped the blessed light would
dawn upon him. but in the darkness of
this night il seemed great ways off.
| The cloud of pove! v and gloom that
wrapped his heart too cold and
deep, he reared, for human sympathy
and love to penetrate. He seemed to
see before him, Fate, with wicrd fin
gers weaving the mystic web of his
lonely destiny, and as he watched the
phantom HANDS with ieverish intensity,
lie wondered if at some future day,
that mantle of brightness might fall
upon him instead Of pail. A strain
OF sweet sad music broke in upon his
lonely musings. Owe" all refined ma
lures music has an absorbing power,
and though il often fills the soul with
,adnc.,. il casts upon il the spell of an
irresistible fascination; and the stran.
ger paused in hi, dcsolate walk to lis
zen to the song. The windows of the
princely mansion were but half vciled,
and he could see the happy group that
surrounded the piano, and the fair girl
that sang the soft minor air which sank
into The listeners heart.
He was poet, and had written songs
o. tenderness and love for others to
sing. Himself, he could not sing with
such n weight upon his heart. The
light OF genius was in his eye. and the
imagery OF q fcrvid imagination gath
cred round his brain, and the poets ma
live impulse. loving, warm and true,
lived within his heart.
IN ,he sensitive and gifted the longing
for sympathy and love is far more than
in ruder natures. and all his life long
hi, heart had yearnc) with passionate
cagcrncss for the pure delights Of home
and The bliss Of sympathy and love.
The song was over, but still he lin
gcred, watching the frelight's fitful
glow, as il shed its ruddy sheen upon
the changing group.
Again The 'air girl took her seat at
the piano and sang with inimilable
grace and beauty" Home, Sweet Home"
II was his song!
He, the homeless wandercr. had writ
ten Home, Sweet Home"
I' >toou oll III uafkness ana night,
listening TO his song, the child of his
own heart and brain, and looking in at
the window OF Home, Sweet Home"
knew thai in all the world there was no
home Tor him.
The song ended. He sat down on the
stone step, of the stately mansion, with
the rain beating heavily upon him, and
buryin9 his lace in his hands, wepl in
the hiuernes, OF his heart
Year. passed away and still he was a
homeless wandcrer. Often in the streets
OF London, Berlin, and Paris, he heard
"Home, Sweet Home" which in all
hands and all hearts had become a
household word.
Later in lille he became Cousnl to Tu.
nj, AMI died a stranger in q strange
land. Never, save in his dreams, had
he known the bliss of "Home, Sweet
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