The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1882-09-06
And "Was Not"

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They were strange family; no one
ever died with them and was buried.
They laid their dear ones away, and
when they spoke OF them said they had
"passcd OVER or "gone home" There
was Jamie, with the blue eyes and
golden hair; when they alluded TO the
time OF his death they gaid; "When
our boy was called" and in running
over the names Of their little Hook tho
mother would say; "Jamie and Nellie
are sleeping. IL seemed 50 strange
to the people about them, for they were
not Quskers nor soul-slcepGrs, nor did
they belong 10 any sect. 1t was just
their own quaint way. For they were
the worlds people after all, dressed as
others did, all but the dear old grand
mother, who had so nearly finished hei
earthly pilgrimage, and went TO the
pleasure resort, with ~ much Zc5t for
enjoyment ~ the most triIling world
ing; nay, more, for under it all they had
concealed freshness and goodness that
| kept the arid desert Of fashion green
with its own up-springing. They never
became wOrld-wise or wOrld-weary, but
looked on with shining eyes and saw
the pictures OF life grouped about them
and were content with their own.
IL was to these people, making n pie
turc Of peace and beauty, that all
loved 10 look at in that reflex light, by
the seaside, that sudden call came-a
message over the wires and as others
gathered with blanchcd faces and
whispered one solemn wOrd-death
they looked up with tcar-wct Iashcs and
echoed softly and with trembling lips
"Life" and passed away from among
us in gentle, noisccss haste.
For this is what bad come 10 them:
The old grand-dame, with her feeble
step and silver hair, had "passed away"
in the morning watch; gone so swiftly
and peacefully that
They thought her dying when she slept,
Ana sleeping when she died.
And when they laid her away in the
cloycr-tufed lot, by the side of the com.
panion Of her youth, they found The last
words she had written, with tremulous
hand Just verse which showed them
where she had been in spirit
They are all gone into the world of light,
and alone -it lingering here.
Their very memory Is inir md bright,
Ana my sad thought doth clear.
Then they laid aside the few possess
sions she had left, and underneath her
last writing they added this:
Not dead not sleeping, not even gone,
Eut present still.
Aud whiting Tor the coming hour
OF Gods sweet viii
And when they speak Of her 1t is to
say she has gone to tie next country,
and they smile 10 themselves as they try
to picture what she is doiGg,to follow her
in that white world, whose crystal prom
Use glittefS in every sky. "Eyc hath not
seen, ne ,hcr hath ear heard, nor has it
entered INTO the heart OF man to con-
ceivc" 81 its beauty.
Far out 81 sisht white Vet the io.h enfolts II,
Lies Tho fair country where oar hearts abide,
hni OF it, bliss N nuught more WOndrOus
tuld ny
Than These f." words. 81 shall bo salts.
led"
There is 4 tender and true story of
Walt Whitman; ut the funeral of lit |
lie child, n nephew, the poet sat near
he white coffin and held on his knee u
beautiful little girl; she looked in child
81 wonder upon the paraphernalia OF !
leah, and then inquiringIy glzcd into |
he old mans face. "Iou don't know |
what it is, my dear, do you?" said the
poet, gently; tnen ho added, reflective
ly; "Ncithcr d. wei"
Soothing i r.own: but bolicvc
That God l. overhead.
Aud liic j., e. the living.
80 death Is to i..r dead.
D,iroH Free Press.