The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1876-07-27
r. H-n.Es.T.

"Hc that iswitLout sin among you, let him
first s.,st a stone at her. john piit, z.
The iron voice from yonder spire has
hushed its howling tone,
And midnight finds me lying here in 81
leuce and alone;
The still moon, through my window, sheds
its soft light on the floor
With a melancholy paleness, have never
seen before.
And the summer wind comes with its sad
4Eolian lay,
A if burthened with the sorrow Of q
weary, weary day;
Yet the moonlight can not sooth me OF the
sickness here within,
And the wind take no portion from nay
bosonl's weight of sin.
Yet my heart and all its pulses seem SC
quietly to rest,
That scarcely feel them beating i'll my
arms or in my breast;
And these rounded limbs are resting now
so still upon the bed,
That one would think, to see me here, that
Twas lying dead.
What if 'twere so2-what if | died-died,
as am lying now,
With something like to virtues calm upon
this marble brow?
What if l died to-night?-st this nay heart
begins to beat
A fallen creature like me to pass from
earth so sadly sweet!
Yet am I calm-as calm Us the clouds thai
! slowly float and form
70 give their fearful strength TO some un
plying summer storm
As calm as great Sahara ere the simoor
sweeps lis waste,
Or as the wide sea when the white wave.
all its shores have laced.
Still. still | have no tears to shed-these
eyelids have no store
The fountain once within me is fountain
now no more;
The moon alone weeps for me now-the
pale and thoughtful moon
She weeps for dying Marie thro' all the
nights sweet swoon.
What if l died tonight within these glid'
walls
Upon whose crimson trappings no eye ol
virtue falls?
Uh,, yonId ;ts soulIess inmates do when
they had found me here
With cheeks too white for PASSIONS smile,
too cold for passions tear?
All, one would come and from these atms
unclasp the bauble bands;
Another wrench the jewels off my fairer
whittier hands;
This splendid robe another's form woulo
sweep, ah, long before
The moonlight came again to shine npor
the floor.
And when they'd Iald me down in earth
were pauper graves are made,
Beneath the bending Willows angel-heart'
ed shade,
Who'd come and plant flower Ger pool
Marie's friendiess grave,
Or trim the tangled wild grass that nc
summer wind could wave?
Who'd raise stone to mark it from th'
ruder graves around,
That the passing strangers footstep nigh
respect the spot of ground?
| No stone would stand above me-no littl'
waving tree
No hand would plant flower DER taiier
wretch like me.
What if l died to-night-and when to
| morrow's sun had crept
Where late the softer moon in virgin
beauty slept
THEY'D come and find me here--oh, wh'
would weep to see me dead?
Who'd bend the knee Of sorrow by tn
|
pulseless wanton's bed?
There's one would come-my mother
God bless the angel hand
That bore her, ere her daughter fell, t'
youder quiet land!
Thank God for all the anthems that glad
dened angels sung
When my mother went to Heaven, and
was pure and young!
And there's another, too, would come
man, upon whose brow
NY shaae has brought the winter snow Il
rest 80 heavily now
Yes, he would come, with manhood's tear
all burning down his cheek.
| Oh had reason stronger been where virtue
grew SO weak
Nv sisters and my brothers all, thank God
are far away;
TbevIl never know how died the one who
mingled in their play;
They'll never know how wretchedly theil
darling sister died
The one who smiled WIENER they smiled
who cried WIENER they cried.
What if l died tonight as am lying here
There's many green leaf withers ere tn
autumn comes to sere;
There's many a dew drop shaken down er
| the sunshine came,
And many spark has died before it wax
ened into fame.
What if / died tonight and left thes
wretohed bonds of clay,
To seek beyond this hollow sphere brigth
er, better day?
What if my soul passed out and sough
that haven of the blest,
Where the wicked cease their troubling
| and the weary are at rest?
Would angels call me from above, an
beckon me to come
And ioin them in their holy songs in tina