The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1878-01-31
For the CITTzEN.I
Reveries, Dreams and Pictures in
Ny Room.

and means, dashing through thu
leaAess trees, shaking the hous'
like an orioie nest in the tree
tops. Now the RAIN comes beating
heavily against the windows anC
streaming down the panes lik'
great tear drops from the eyes of
giant.
Feed the fire, turn on the light,drol
the heavy curtains and shut GU
the stormy sobs-so human hke!-
of the waning night, for this of al
nights to me Is the one for sac
memories and heart ache. AL
over the great world there arc
graves and passionate cries going
out from lonely hearts,
"For the touch of vanished hand.
ISAnd the sound of voice that is STILL"
And IL am only a woman lis
tening to the storm without and the
whirling memories within. Sitting
alone with folded hands in this
queer, low-ceiled old room at the
top of he house, cramned with fur
niture, and overstocked with quaint
pictures. In it are no two chairs
made of the same wood or con
structed on the same pattern. 1t is
as if twenty odd and whimsical
persons had gone to twenty auc-
tions and brought to the room each
piece of what fills it; SO incon-
gruous is the whole. There, just in
front of me sits a curious chair; oh,
if it could talk, what tales it could
unfold of crimson fields and pale
corpses that lay stark, unshrouded,
awaiting a coffinless burial in the
sepulchres that were also their pla-
ces of battle and their beds of
death. And in later years of tne
winding horn, the spirited chase and
the bivouac of the hunters, with
cherry laughter and gay yarns, as
they grouped around their camp
fires. All! memories, memories,
the storm without cannot keep pace
with the storm within!
Above that old chair hangs a
picture, an exquisite picture,
yet terrible to contemplate
The wreck of plunging ship,
driven aimless and helpless in the
widest storm The clouds, black
and riven with lightning; the strug-
Cling victims gone down with a
moan of agony and horror flung
against the pitiless elements! and
from the depths of that sublime
sepulchre no sound comes back to
tell of those who persisted. On,
on, in the mad tempest, ''like a
thing of life:" and the eye wan
ders from it to fall upon a woman
kneeling beside grave with clasped
hands and dishevelled hair, with
yearning and passionate pain in
every lineament. All! me,
"Hearts Oft die bitter deaths before,
The breath is breathed away"
That portrait looking with its
soul-lit eyes down upon me! his
face was one of the finest l ever
saw; fairly radiant with ami
nation, intelligence and beauty.
None ever equalIed him in the role
OF Hamlet, or shone brighter star
in the constellation Of genious.
"To die-to sleep;
To sleep perchance to dream; ayl there's the
rub
Gone in his fame and fresh man
hood to "that bourne whence none
return" after a last daring and
reckless tragedy-''sic semper tyr0n-
MIS-" which sent a cold shudder
throughout the civilized world
The eye rests upon a snow-scene in
the Highlands OF Scotland. A
lonely moor with tall trees bending
DER frozen lake and birds nest
filed with snow, built high on a
slender branch over the treacher-
Gus deep. o. birdie, was it wise
TO build so high? Yet have been
wiser than you? Have not my
hopes hung by tenure as frail2
And Arctic winds wall now, where
italian zephyrs blew? In your
wing-dangled nest you were trust
full and happy, and rocked not of
the slender branch nor the wave be-
low.
'sTeach me your lesson, We little birds!
Flown far away to the SUMMER lands;
Earnest to be in the work of ro-day,x
Leaving the future to higher hands"
All! those eyes-eyes that pierce
and devour, eyes that make you
fear and shrink beneath their broad
corrugated brow-with brain haunt
ed with SORROWS and fantastic ter
rors, and mouth wearing a sardon
ic expression, looks down the
gloomy face Of the i'll starred aa-
thor OF the lines
''The sielness-the nausea a.
The pitiless pain
Have ceased with the lever
That msddened my brain
With the fever called Living
That burned in my BRAIN
The clock strikes twoi and
"an Eidolon, named Night
On black throne reigns upright"
Back in the shadows of the room
are an old sombre cathedral in
Spain
''Enrope's last land,
Last IN progress OF earth,
Thu LAT in Hhertv