The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1873-12-26
For the Herald and NALL
REASIE THE FACTORY GIRI

| BY NJ. A. B.
All truly sang great Plato. Life is love-.
And this sweet inspiration in the hearts
OF men, doth move to mighty deeds.
A maiden sat beside the sea and pondered
"Life is love? All no." she said, ''but that Il
| what
Life should be. For If there be no love
| then is
The body naught but raimen t; the life but
She was no maid of high degree, simple
| Factory girl. Not deeply skilled in lore, her
Days had passed amid the wheels, hor wea-
ry nights
In thankless ministry to the wants of her
Half conscious, drunken sire. ct minis
Angels often stray across the pathway OF
The iowly. Thus books that came to b er
By enance, oft op'ed the page to higher
Which she could only sigh for:
Her heart had fed on husks. Tonight twas
clam rous
The noise of the wheels she had fed
To talk to the complaining ocean OF her
woes,
Past Iordly halls whose splendor and album
GrimIy Knocked her scanty home and frugal
board.
But twas not these she coveted. At humble
Hearths where shone the light of love she
paused to catch
A glimpse--where brother sat in sisters close
embrace
And hoary headed father gazed with ming
Pity, love, and reverence, which age alone
Can know, upon the merry group of hopeful
Hearts. The light of early days rekindled
In his eyes. Nor seemed they dim and lus-
treleSS,
As he turned to her whose feeble pulse beat
low
And said ''We soon shall pass away. Men
Old. dear Bertha. Men see alone the frosts of
Many winters in our hair; on our furrowed
Brow the traces of relentless time. But we,
Dear Bertha, know the fountain OF unfaiIing
Youth; whose source is love. In our steps
Soon will follow, and, leaving us upon the
graves
Cold brink, will pass to happier homes and
fuller
Life which we have known. All, well we
need them not,
We need but God and one another"
Floating on the
Evening air his words reached Bessfe's ear.
She leaned
Her tired head upon the happy window sill
And gave her poor weak human heart the
Chafed, 1t throbbed. and beat, and painted |
SOrely.
1t travelled in to realms unknown and came
back
With an empty dream, the guerdon of its |
It brought no olive leaf. The world dreary |
Waste Of water seemed, and rest unknown. |
Twas then
She to the ocean sped. Upon the rock
Shore she sat, her hand clasped DER her ach-
ing heart.
And will it be for aye:'She asked. lit is not |
Thus In fancy's realm. In books the humble |
Factory girl would suffer wrongs, sights,
taunLs
And pinching poverty, till tears of pity
Should be wrung from hearts OF stone, when
10! she scars
From the dregs of cruel want and woe, to
A royal crown, and reign a queen DER loving
Hearts All, can it be while pity flows thus
The pen of man, mercy fingers long about
The throne OF God?"
Not many PAGES
From the oceans coast, for years the village
Had stood. Thence arose a concourse OF
soft voices,
Sweet by and by. sweet by and by" in
To her unsaid prayer. filled Bessie's heart
A calm came DER the ocean, Is If the low
And peaceful melody had charmed it into
Slowly Bessie turned toward the
church.
The music ended the good man rose, the
wealth
OF inward joy beaming in his face.
"My peace
l give unto you. Not as the world give
To you," was the golden promise read. he
spoke
OF want; of woe; of sin; of death; of love out
And unreturned; of all that's hard and cold
And cruel. And then he spoke of wealth;
of friend, and perfect human love. But DER
them
All the serpents trail he showed, and how
OF man cried out for peace. not as the world
doth
Give. And then the sweet sad story of the
Cross
He told. and how His heart still yearned for
those
To whom His life He gave. He walked
among
The Iowly, and To- all human pomp and
grandeur
STOOD abashed. All, If He spake as man
ne'er spake
Twas true, indeed, He saw as man could
never see.
Bessie bowed her head, "sweet food for hun
CRY soulS!'
She said, "Fresh mama from the hand of
God! twas
This for which yearned, and not for poor
trail
Human love. All, now l see that life Is love,
Indeed-Gods love, and If II were not so, in
All the face of human misery, the sun
Himself would cease to shine"
And soon the world |
Before so hard, cold, cruel, coarse and COM
monplace,
Was flooded in a light divine; for in her hand |
The blest Redeemer's Cross she bore, and in |
her