Holmes County Republican. [volume] (Millersburg, Holmes Co., O. [Ohio]) 1870-1895, 1871-07-13
Fireside Department.
She is Diving.

A~N She is Dying.
The following is sublimely beau
tiful and pathetic, and could only
have been dictated by heart that
a. - has experienced all the bitterness
therein expressed:
Hush! she is dying! The sunlight
streams through the plate glass win
~ dow, the room is fragrant with
Southern fowers-large milk-white
African lilies, roses, nightingale
would stop to worship caps, jessa-
mines and camelias with their large
glossy leaves. SIG
Through the open easement comes
SIS q the faint, musical tingle of playing
gys y fountains, the light tempered pleas
antly by rose colored curtains of
satin kindles up gorgeous oil paint
ings with halo bright as rainbow.
1t is as if fresher sunshine were
falling earthward on the bower of
beauty.
The canary sings in its gilded
cage, her canary; and the mocking
y bird raises her clear notes on the
perfumed air. t.-
Why do you clinch your hands
until the nails draw the rich, rosy
~ blood through the thin, quivering
skin? Why do you grind your teeth
together and kiss the one word,
hush? 1t Is a beautiful home, Pm
sure, that lady with her hands upon
her bosom is as fair as any dream
., vision of the painter.
Surely nothing can be purer than
that broad high brow, nothing
brig ghter than those curls.
And she loves you, to. All yes {!
any one can see that in those deep
violet eyes, raised so tenderly to
: ~ sonr own. s}
She linked to yonrs the existence
of an angel when she knelt beside
you at the marriage altar and placed
her hand in yours.
For twelve golden summer months
an angel has worked or sat by your
side.
You know it, No mortal woman
ever made your heart bow before
purity so divine.
No earthly emblem ever filled
your soul with the glory beyond the
stars; no earthly smile ever shows
unchangingly above all noisesome
things we earthwOrms call care and
trouble. She is an angel, and other
angels have been singing to her in
the pleasant June time.
Hush, you say! You can't hush
the anthem notes of heaven from
f the unsealed ears longer, higher
u swells the hymns of the seraphs,
brighter grows the smile on your
wife's lips.
She whispers, Dearest, I'm almost
home l am going to ask God to
bless you? But you cannot hear it
you turn away, and big tears
gather in your violet eyes.
You hold her there on your bosom
all night; are you tiredf But you
can't answer. Closer, closer you
q clasp the light fair rfigure-painfully
you press your lips to the cold brow.
Carrie is dead.
What is it to you that the sun
shines so brightly? what that its
cheerful ray fall in the broad land
our land? What is it now that she
walks on them more! And what is
death-her death? Few people
knew her; no wise President can be
chosen to fill her place; no nation
will raise moment to her memory;
but she was yours-yours, all
No, yours and Gods, and your
years of joy are over; she rests on
His bosom now in heaven.
They have dug a grave for her.
Spring flowers viii brighten over it,
and the green grass smile with dais-
les and violets. You go there and
smile and pray, and ask God if you,
too, may come home. And no ans
wer coming, your heart rises up in
bitterness, and with the bold wicked
- words upon your tongue, you pause,
for your guardian angel looks down
from heaven and whispers "Hushw