The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1874-10-09
THE OLD SLEEPING Room.
gY REV. JOHN THEo. ETTEEs.

l come, 4 pilgrim wan and worn,
Back to the house where l was born
l softly tread to-day!
My heart bears. as a holy thing,
The many memories | | bring
From iiGe's loug, weary way;
Familiar are these stairs indeed,
Which to the second story lead
How naturalto me-.
Just as Of old-I do declare
The knot-hoie in the wash-board theI -
"Tis open stil-just see!
Nine s;eps-T need not count them through
III lay You what you will, It's so;
Tie short flight there has four.
This hand-rail on the entry-side-
What sport for boys adown TO slide,
A we were wont of gore.
The window, at the head, is seen,
Venetian shutters, painted green,
And they are closed up still.
The ghostly HIGHT of evening falls
So pale upon the stars and walls,
l teel a iimid chill.
Hall smiling now, and now half sad
Halt weeping new, and now half glad,
Do ! ascend the stairs.
I reach the top--I touch the door
Il opens As 1t did OF yore-
Idid It unaTares!
The dear old room how many a night,
From evening hour till morning light.
Here, child and boy, l slepti
There. in that corner, stood my bed
Here was The foot, and there the hesdi
AL this my memory Kept.
How sweet our childhood sleep appears;
One rests not sn in after years
All, This too well l know!
Life .lls the anxious heart with cares;
4 wabefui head the pillow bears,
And nights dull hours move slow.
The moon is up, tits full aud bright
It rours it's mellow flood Of light
Upon the bed and floor;
What moves upon the wall about?
The shadowy play of trees without
I've seen that oft before.
Ali, all is stili-save hut the vail
OF lonely crickets' evening tale,
Hid in ;he~ window-siil.
Hark III tine closet-tick-tick-tick.
1t is the deech-watch's ghostly click
l wish tina: worm were still,
If there be Ghosts-ah. who can tell?
This place, this hour, would suit them we'll
Perhaps some mag be near.
I see nhugh' with M eyes that's real:
Yet, il my Spirits sense, 1 feel
As if they might be here.
IeP, ghosts are here from childhood's hours,
They have no forms, but come as powers,
And give me pleasing pain;
They mirror to my heart the plays.
o: all my early halcyon days,
Which cannot come again!
Angels are here. 50 pure and rare,
They pay upon the mOonbeams there,
They glide along the wall!
Back to this ark, like Noah's dove,
They bring their sprigs of peace and love
/ hail their friendly call.
These spirits guard us in our ways,
So mother'r Holy Bible says
And 1 believe it too,
Have we the Our Father :" said,
They watch that night around our bed,
Most certainly they do!
This did our mother often tell;
We children ali believed it well,
And did "a We were told.
You don't believe? ? your wiser-you?
Than mother and the Bible too?
Such folly makes you bold.
For me- this faith wrought like a charm;
] slept quite free from fear or harm,
In peace till morning light.
] hold It still will believe,
That they who pray this prayer receive
An angel-guard at night.
I've often wished ! were again
A child, a. innocent as them
But that can never be;
So / will keep, as best I can.
The life of childhood ia tie man
The chhd-iike nurse III me.
But, see, high up has gone the moon
How long I've wandered here alone.
lis time for me to leave.
Good-by, M little room, good-by-
Hold there il something in my eye,
This parting makes me g~rieve.