The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1880-11-07

A Sabbath Afternoon.

The Sabbath day was nearing its close.
sat beside an open window medltating
upon tho words of tho Divine Comforter,
which had just been reading, and my heart
was comfortcd and strength tned within me
as | recalled them TO mind. Sitting thus
awhile, my eyes wandered out upon the
lovely scene before me, taking in the light:
and shadows of the glorious October sun
shine, falling upon tree and shrub, and
lighting up all the western sky with golden
flame. Almost unconsciousIy my thoughts
wandered afar, and ere long the lights and
shadows Of the memories Of other days fell
upon my heart, and obeyng sudden i'm
rulsc, | rose from my seat and quietly leav-
ing the house, wendell my way toward tho
cemetery, VIII ch crowned a gentle eminence
near my howe. Following the selucstered
road leading to it WAS soon nj the enclosure,
and opening the gate, passed In AZ |
walked slowly along soon found myself IN
the mid.tof the silent sleepers OF the city Of
the dead, and musmg rs | went, paused a
moment beside Il little n ound, the last rest
ing place of an infant, and looking upon tho
marble Slab placed there by loving hands, |
thought of the little form resting beneath,
and the words came to my mind:
"Ithe th como from mothers tender heart
shed.d foster night and day;
Whst fearful change 10 such cherished
guest
Is the grim and cold array
But the comforting. thought came in quick
succession that their little one was now
safely housed in home above, No longer an
heir to the sorrows and cares OF earth, and
that only its lrsil body mouhderod IN the
narrow confines upon which | looked with
moistened eyes. A moment later paused
beside the grave Of one who had be,n master
of vast possessions IN this worid-a man
"whoec soul had been gorged with the gross
flllgess If material things, 30 that it spread
no piniou lorDu 10 seek y better world than
thia." ] had known him we'll outing his life;
knew that he was proud of his wealth and
position, Boosting Of his broad possessions.
A feeling Of sadness weighed upon me Re |
pundued upon lis history. "Ah! how
vain row ere all his earthly possessions" l
thought, "ior, as We all must do, sooner or
later.
ale went his way
The way oraii the cor,h-and his lands
Took another name.'
| did not pause long beside the spot which
called forth such unpleasant thoughts, but
walked on, passing the resting places of
many whom | hal known ere death had
dimmed the sparkle of their eye, or turned
the roses on their checks to marble hue, AMI
finally paused beside hallowed spot SO dear
to me--the grave of one whts young life
had been so closely iutertwined with mine.
| seated myself beside the grass.grown
mound, and, trough several years had
elapsed since our sad y rting, Il feeling ORE
grtt yet stirred my heart that he had been
taken from mo- ], almost unaware to my.
sell, began questioning the justice of God in
cutting'shorJ his life in the early flush OF
youth, when it seemed TO our eyes that u
brilliant career Of usefulness was opening for
him ON earth. But Mt this moment / seemed
10 hear the voices Of IN invisible, angelic
choir, and to my murmuring heart came the
words:
,'Judgouo the Lord by feeble sense,
But Trust Him for llis grace"
chidiug me for my unholv thoughts. The
wild evening wind swept gently by, freighted
with the perfume OF bud and flower; he
ever reen cldars bowed overhead, scarcely
breaking the dreamy stiffness which lowered
over the sacred spot, | leaned my flushed
cheek against the cold marble slab, and my
tears cepsed TO flow, and gradually n feeling
of calm resignation took the place of the re-
pinings which had been mine. A half hour
later rose, soothcd and comiorted, and turn
ing my face homeward l softly repeated the
lines, while retraciSg my steps:
"a narrow point
Divides our erlef-soh from our pungs ordeath.
Down tn the Wondering multitude wego,
Aud all our anxious thoughts, our ievered
hopes,
The Borrowing burdens OF our pilgrimage,
In deep oblivion rest Then let the woes
Aud Joys of earth be to he dea thless soul
Like the sweet dew-drops from the eagles
wing,
when, waking In his strength no funward
soars.'
FLORENCE.