Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-07-06
The Last Time.

"The last time | saw him he stood on
that threshold. We clasped hands and ex-
changed sorrowful looks in parting. Our
lips touched for the last time. He went far
away; we never met again. We shall never
meet until the Great Judgment Day" A
thousand times are these sad words on the
lips of men and women. For the thousandth
time such scenes occur. And so the last
time comes, is past but its bitterness lin
gers long. You feel a solemn change. A
strange pain seizes the heart. You whisper,
"Never again" Bewildered and almost
hopeless, you pass on your way. You part
from your best beloved for the last time.
You kiss your dead for the last time. You
gaze on some favorite scene for the last
time. You listen to some sweet voice for
the last time. You stand on some well-re-
membered, quiet spot, where your dear de-
parted stood with you in the long, long ago
for the last time. You stand at the birth
days of your childhood, your youth, for the
last time. You have been young and fair
and strong for the last time. For the last
time you have played with the merry
thoughts of younger hours. You are grow
ing old. Life has become serious. The
fancies of youth have perished. The hopes
of youth, it may be, have faded. Care sits
heavy on your brow. You can win no new
affection. You can charm no more. With
touch of pathos too sad for tears, you sigh,
"Never again !" Time moves relentlessy
onward. The swift years sink into the dim
past, but the memory of them dies not.
And so the end approaches, the last things
of this poor life, its last JOYS, its last oppor-
tunities. Birthdays come and go more and
more swiftly. The strains of some enchant-
IN, oic thriIl fpr tha 1au Won
hear the warning voice of some faithful
preacher for the last time. For the last
time you go abroad under the summer sun
to scent the flowers and hear the singing
birds. For the last time you stand on the
corner of the busy street, or on the sea-shore,
or on the green meadow and signing, look
behind you across your trodden path. For
the last time you will go to the house of
worship, the scenes of prayer, the place of
your business, the parlor of your kindred.
Life's grown-up work that once animated
your buoyant step is nearly done. The by
gone years fit as mystic shadows in mem
ory's halls. Never again" rings through the
corridors of the soul. Now you begin know
| the hidden bitterness of those two words
| Your faculties fail; memory is at fault
| Sight becomes dim. You have to be spoken
to twice or thrice ere you can hear your
| friends. The last hour of mortal life comes
For all things beneath the sun there is 8
last time. In the strange sleep of death
you close your eyes. The pillowed head, SO
STILL The soft tread, and whispered words
of kindred tell that all is over. Your obitu
ary is in the papers; your name is in the
marble. 1t is the last of earth. Never
again But this is not the last You viii
rise and stand before the Judge. 1t will be
for the last time The uttered sentence i:
his the fixed destiny is yours. Never again
shall come to you the gospels music, the
preachers warning, the Spirits wooing. Il
is done. As ye have sown so shall ye reap
In that Great Day what will the harvest be
it may be that l shall never again warn yo,
of your danger. 1t may be this is your las
warning 1t may be the winds Of winter
will wall, and the SHOWS pile in cold, white
symmetry over your lonely grave, or the
flowers of summer may bloom above youl
silent bed. Solemn thought Solemn hour
are you prepared for that last time? o
aforementioned man and woman, think Of
these things ere it be too late, and the last
time of mercy's pleading comes never again
-Boston Christian.