Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1880-06-15
For the SPECTATOR.
Mamie and LOra, or the Little Play
mates.
FOR LORA, BY ADELA.

A Tribute to the memory of Mamie D. Clay
ton, no died at Deerfield, Oct 3rd, 1851
'"Twss good, twas kind in the wise one above,
To fling destiny's veil DER the face of our
years;
That we dread not the blow, that shall strike
at our love,
And expect not the beams, that shall dry up
our tears.
sight,
the cloud,
That we cherish q flower, and think not Of
blight.
That we dance on the loom, that may weave
shroud.
I would not live Away, ask not to stay,
Where storm after storm rises dark DER the
way;
Where seeking for peace we but hover around.
Like the Patriarch's bird, and no resting is
found.
Where hope, when she paints her gay bow on
the air,
Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of de-
spair,
And joys tieeting angel, ne er sheds glad ray,
Save the CLEAN Of the plumage that bears him
away.
One beautiful morning in the month
of October, 1 was approaching the silent
city of the dead, where sleep, in their
lowly earth beds, so many of our loved,
so many of our household idols, whose
loss the heart still mourns, whose mem
DRY it still keeps fresh:with the secret,
silent tear. Ever and anon the requiem
fer the dying year, borne on the autumn
nal breeze, as it sighed amid the now
gorgeously-decked boughs, came float
ing to my ear, speaking so eloquently to
the heart, the sad truth. 1--WE all do
fade as the leaf" My attention was ar
rested by a little maiden, seated near the
fresh yellow mound that covered her
earliest, best loved playmate. Resting
on the grave, in the goblet her own lit
tie hands had placed there, was an au-
tumnal bouquet. Twas no Ostentatious
gift alone she'd sought the spot where
Mamie slept, and with no eye but Gods
to see the act of love, placed there the
simple floral offering, to the memory of
one so dear. Alas! no smile Of welcome,
as she bends over the grave, beams Oh
the marble face of the little sleeper be-
meath the cIods. But, methinks, her
gentle spirit, on shining wings was how
ering nigh, eager to push aside the veil
which hides the visible from the inyisi-
bic, and again encircling her arms low
ingly around her, imprinting on her
lips the fond kiss of affection, the seal
of their true childish love, which had
lived in their hearts for each other, since
their infant tongues could lisp their
names. And seated side by side, they'd
again hold the sweet converse, which
but few feeting days had gladdened
their young hearts,-building i'll their
childish fancies, bright visions of that
future, DER which in His wisdom God
had thrown the veil of destiny. In those
happy days they dreaded not the blow,
that so soon should blight their love-
Sad and alone Lora sits by her grave,
as if Guardian spirit DER her sleeping
friend. All! could it be that Mamie,
sweet darling Mamie, in all her artless
beauty, her black hair so soft and silky,
clustering around her beautiful head,
her dark eye always beaning with love
and tenderness, or sparkling with rare
intellect and genius, an index to the
bright indwelling soul; Mamie, with
her ruby lips and pearly teeth her soft
velvety check, so soon 10 glow with the
rich flush of maiden-hood she, with all
this wealth of beauty in mind and per
son; we ask our hearts, can it be, she is
gone, and lies there in the silent toni?
All! death, truly thou lov'st shining
mark, and in relentless hour, thou
breakfast thy icy breath OIL this fragile
flower; alas! it withered and died, and
Lora, dear little loving one, whose hair
has caught the golden hue of sunset
whose cheek rivals the damask in its
glow, and eye of cerulean blue, beams
with spirit akin to her playmates, in
depth of thought and richness of feeling,
is left alone to weep FER her early grave
When Spring with its vernal breath IN
bound the earth from its icy letters, and
walked the flowers from their leafy
graves, making the woodland, late SO
dreary, an Eden spot. "Ah! truly then
they cherished the flowers and thought
not of blight; they basked in the sun
shine nor dreamed of the clouds; their
silvery laugh vieIng with the wildwood
songster in its cheerful mirth. All
Iora, you'll miss her in all these old ia
miljar haunts, you'll miss her always -
always in lfe's devious pathway, be it
strewn with thorns Or decked with
flowers, be it radiant with the sunshine
of prosperity and happiness, or dark
ened with sorrows mantling gloom
But, Lora, when you are called to die,
be that in early childhood, or when in
the beautiful language of the poet
Time speeds away, away, away,
Another hour, another day,
Another month another year,
Drops from you like the leaflets scar;
Drops like the lfe-blood from your heart,
The rose bloom from your checks depart.
The tresses from your temples fall
Your eye grows dim and strange to all,
And wrcsts from your distracted breast,
Thefriends that loved, the friends that blest,
Ana leaves you weeping on the shore,
To which they can return no more.
TO
lie bears you on from youth to age;
Then plunges in the fearful SCI
or fathomlcss eternity.
Oh then, let her not miss V0u in the |
golden streets of Paradise Often here
you blended your voices in the sweet |
songs of Zion; let her not miss that
UOice, when through long eternity OF
bliss she tunes her golden harp in the |
heavenly choir, singing the anthems of |
the redeemed. No, no, Lora, let her |
not miss you, when, with JOY seraphic, |
she casts her glittering crown at the feet !,
of her Redeemer. No, alb no, Lora F.. |
dear child, let her not miss you as she
drinks deep draughts from the fountain |
Of eternal life that flows by the throne
of God. Let her not miss you az she
reclines in the ambrosial bowers of
Eden. No, no. All, no, Lora, let her
not miss you there. Her angel spirit
will await your coming at the pearly
gates of Heaven, and, with one Joyous
refrain, echoing through its wide dome,
will welcome you home.
Each care, each i'll of mortal BIRTH
Is sent in plying love,
To lift the lingering heart from EARTH
And speed its fight above.
And every pang that wrings the heart
md every JOY that dies,
Tells us to seek a pur2r rest,
That home above the skies.
TIE MOLE-The French Minister of
Agriculture says no trace Of food of veg
etable growth is found in the stomach
of the mole, and that it is continually