Orangeburg times. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1872-1875, 1874-05-14
No1A

Alice! and down the future she looked
trenblingly, and saw the fragile from
and spiritual face, with lilies brasded in
the soft, brown hair, her eyes grey dim
with tears, for she knew not if it was a
bridal or a burial, for close beside the
altar was the graveyard.
were not wanting who wondered
at Ben Bolts choice, and thought it
strange he should take Alice May in
preference to the filirest and wealthiest.
Some there were who held ther heads
loftily when they passed her, butn her
heart was away on the blue waters, and
she heerled it not. .T}.i,S,t
How she watched the days in, their
passing, she noted how the summer wanetf
how the fields of waving grain grew
golden in the sunlight-slle heard the
glad voices the reapers; and When the
leaves were falling, the merry children
went nut. gatheting in the woods; then
the noiseless snow fell and layton the
hillside as in the olden days; runtil, the
genial spring-tide sun melted it away,
and the violcts and hair-bells dotted the
fields--so passed year. mug
Shew growing fairer and morebeau-
tiful-rco brilliant FOR anything earthly.
Once she knelt at the alter in the little
church, and listened to the words uaiting
her with the Savior's redeemed on earth,
but il was only an outward form, for. her
heart had long been in the keeping of
angels. Again she watched the;waliing
of the summer days, and when the soft
winds swept over the silvery rye fields,
she thought Of The sea afar, with its broad
waves. All through the winter days she
grew more spiritaual in her beauty, and
the slender white hands were re'd often fol-
on her breast, as shcpryed for those who
would soon be left desolate; forshe nlfaew
she was dying. .npssr I,dn
Ia did not startle her, she had felt
long ago that the fair green earth would
hold her pnlselcss heaat. ere it hadssleft
the cloister of girlhood. Life was sweet
and beautiful, yet in her sinlessness.
death had no agony, save her sorrow for
those left in loneliness. 1t was only O.
little way to the land ofrest, and her feet
hai never grown weary;yct she longed
to look once moro upon the flowers, and
have them braided in her hair, and so
she fingered on till the voice of spring
was heard OIL the hill-tops
One morning when vicwless hands
were gathering back the misty curtain of
the night, and the stars grew dim in the
glory of early morn, sweet Alice, stood
OH the threshold of Paradise, and the
golden gates were opened to the fair,
meek girl. There trcmblcd on her lips
a prayer and blessing for Ben Bolt.
and her raother, giving radiance to the
fair, dead face; and they braided spring
flowers i'll her wavy, brown hair.
The church-bell chimed softly to the
few years earth had claimed the stainless
soul of Alice aIay, as they brought the
coffin in the little, old church. How
beautiful she looked in her white burial
robe; too fair and sweet for death:. too
holy, had there not been resurrection
beyond. Close beside her, stood the
friends of her girlhood gazing ON that
young face, us if they would fain call her
back to life, and its sweet love. So they
laid sweet Alice to sleep in the old church,
yard, and those who had looked coldly
on her, took to their sorrowing hearts,
sweet memory of tho early dead.
There was agony too deep for utterance
when the strong, ardent-hcartetl man,
whose guiding star had been the love of
that sweet girl came back to find the, cot
tagc home desolate, and Alice sleeping
beneath gray stone in the churh.yaEd.
But God and Time are merciful, and
rs years passed away, he came to think
of her as garlanded as the golden fruit
age Of Eden land. ''ii'
This was the memory that his friend
sang of, as they sat in the summer t@i-
light years afterwards, and talked of the
faces that had glimmered and faded in
t1,o;r no i 30 1,ou, oe, III III