The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1877-06-20

By NJ. E. b.

This old. worn doorstep may not seem
To many poetic theme,
Curved hollow where our feet have gone,
Beneath the stoop, wild briar grown;
But as gaze out on the scene
so long familiar, cool and green,
What varied visions thronging fast,
Float shadowing from the checkered past.
Twas twenty years and more ago,
Since firstI stood this stoop below;
Beside me my young mates strong form,
Our baby boy upon his arm;
Not then before us trees in blume,
Or billowy grasses waving ploom,
No blossoms wooed the summer breeze,
No luscious fruitage on the trees,
But fancey's eye saw all and more
AS we three stood within the door;
For youth is rich in hopeful dreams
And near and true the mirage seems.
Another picture, OH, how sweet,
The yearning eyes of memory meet;
T'is autumn, and the sky DER cast
Sits the first snow flakes light and fast;
The door filings open DER its sill,
Two boys the house with clamor fill;
Quick to my side they laughing spring
And with caresses and kisses cling;
Look how it whirls the window past;
Hurrshi 1t gathers deep and white,
Wen have splendid snow ball fight!''
All, scarcely knew in hose days
o. childish love and glsisorne playes,
How blest 20 have theIa near always;
Tears well and drop my cheeks upon,
For an, my little boys sre gone;
Fine, tall young men, who seem some other
al, sffI r11a
But yet my foolish heart makes moan;
Those little boys are all my own.
A later vision fair and dear
Comes to me on my doorstep here;
'Tis my wee girl with earnest face,
Seeking and loving natures grace,
From the wild bee on scented clover
To the soft cloud shapes floating over,
Or murmurous boughs, or falling shower,
Dull worm or painted fly or flower;
With love mate to living things,
Her sweet, child nature thrilling springs.
Nothing in nature she may see
But brings her questioning to me.
Oh! soul like harp Eolian, strung
For all sweet things to play upon.
I tremble, as the swift years go,
For all the pain such souls must know.
AnOtner form, once tall ana strong,
Comes slowly mp yon path along;
The grave white head is bent in thought;
The hands clasped idly backward brought;
A strong face, with masters will
To grasp and conquer fortunes i'll,
Turning the adverse TO success,
Lifts up to me in tenderness.
Yes; his had been a marvellous skill,
To bend life's elements TO his will;
But well 1 knew the old mans dreams
No longer were his prosperous schemes.
Backward throughout his many days
He silent traced life's devious ways,
Marking how time robs in bestowing
His gifts, but loss, resistless going.
Oh, hearts are poems magical.
And lives are plays most tragicall
The holiest dream among them all
Comes awesome, as the twilight's fall,
When solemn from the skys far blue.
Nights snadowed hush drops with the dew
A form as frail as girlhood's, slight;
A sweet pale face, with love aIight;
And eyes that mind me Of the night
So calm, so pure, so darl1ly bright;
With my wee daughter, hand in hand,
My dearest love before me stands.
All! nerveless, vain ali words Of mine
To picture love so near divine.
Enough that all things tender, true,
Pure, patient, point my thoughts to you.
Ali grander than the blood stained wreath
Woven to honor the warriors death,
Should be loves chsplet for a mothers nan
That living sacrifice unknown to famel
One saddest summer Sabbath morn
That e'er from golden gate of dawn
The glowing day stole rosy through,
The Angel Azrael beckoned you.
white robed angel, tender faced,
Strong, beautiful in manhood's grace,
Came noiselessly that solemn morn
Among our weeping band forlorn.
Softly thy loving, dark eyes closed
And hushsd thy true heart in last repose;
Kissed gently as a mother fond
Thy time-tired soul His breast upon;
Then, with His glance of light abyoad,
With fight like thought thou vast with G'
June 10, 1877.