Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1876-05-13

Leona.
BY JAMES G. CLARK.

pronounced the following poem unsur-
passed by any other production of its
class in our language. 1t is perfect in
rhyme, beautiful in figure, tender in
expression, and we know the lovers of
the truly good among our readers will
thank us for its reproduction.-ED. |
Leona, the hour draws nigh,
The hour we've awaited SO long, .
For the angel to open door through the
sky,
That my spirit may break from its prison
and try
Its voice in an infinite song.
Just now, as the slumbers of night
Came Ger me with peace-giving breath,
The curtain, half lifted, revealed to nv
sight
Those windows which look on the kingdom
of light
That borders the river of DEATH
And a vision fell solemn and sweet,
Bringing CLEANS of morning-lit land !;
Isaw the white shore which the pale waters
beat,
And l heard the low lull as they broke at
their feet,
Who walked on the beautiful strand
And l wondered why spirits should cling
To their clay with a struggle and sigh,
When lite's purple autumn is better than
spring,
And the soul flies away like sparrow, to
sing
In a climate where leaves never die
Leona, come close to my bed
And lay your dear hand on my brow;
The same touch that thrilled me in DAYS
that IRE fled,
And raised the lost roses Of youth from the
dead,
Can brighten the brief moments now.
We have loved from the cold world apart,
And your trust was too generous and
For their hate to o'erthrow when the SIAN
derer's dart
Was ranking deep in my desolate heart,
| was dearer than ever to you.
| thank the Great Father for this,
That our love is not lavished in vain;
Each germ in the future will blossom to
bliss,
And the forms that we love and the lips
that we kiss
Never shrink at the shadow of pain.
BY the light of this faith am taught
That my labor is only begun
In the strength Of this hope have l strug-
ged and fought
With the legion of wrong til my armo1 has
caught
The CLEAN of cternity's sun.
Leona, look forth and behold!
From headland from hillside and deep,
The dayking surrenders his banners of gold
The twilight advances through woodland
and void,
And the dcws are beginning to weep;
The moons silver hair lies uncurled
Down the broad-breasted mountains
away
Ere sunsets red glories again shall be
furled
On the walls of the west DER the plains of
the world,
| shall rise in q limitleSS day
o, come not in tears to my tomb,
Nor plant with frail flowers the sod;
There is rest among roses too sweet for its
gloom,
And life where the lilies eternally bloom,
In the balm breathing gardens of God.
Yet deeply those memories burn,
Which binG me to you and to earth;
And | sometimes have thought that my
being would yearn,
In the bowers of its beautiful home to
And visit the home of its birth.
'Twould even be pleasant to stay,
And walk by your side to the last;
But the land breeze of Heaven is beginning
to play
Life's shadows are meeting Eternity's day,
And its tumult is hushed in the past.
Leona, goodbye. Should the grief
That is gathering now ever he
Too dark for your faith, you will long for
relief;
And remember. the journey, though lonely,
is brief
Over lowand and river to me.
CHINESE hotels have raised their
rates, and it now costs % cents a day