Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1882-01-12
Writes for the BsacCn.)
TIE LAST SUNSET Or isss.
d I. 4. J.

One year ago from the apex Of the
West we watched the last sun Of 1880
60 softly out over the hills. Twas q
glOry-crowned sunset, with q veal til
Of gold and amber clouds clustered
about il, and we remember how
strangely il moved rs, how serene and
solemn it was and how we thanked
God for the language it spoke to US.
The last sur of 1881 is dropping be-
hind the hills all nature seems hushed,
and bows ito head in sad comprehen-
siVe recognition cs its departure.
1881. We would not turn back the
pages that make the chapter in
our lives. We would turn away our
tear-stained faces and forget that 1881
and its innovations have ever walked
hand in hand with IA.
Oh ! how variegated have the days
been that have passed over our heads.
We have bowed our heads Q grief
smitten nation. for our sovereign has
been slain. We have seen tl1nE ashen
hue that comes once to as all mar the
beautiful features Of our loved and
cherished ones. We have robed the
waxen figures Of our little smiling ba-
bies. and they have gone over the
Jasper Seal gone with the angels"
We have seen the light of youth and
middle age burn dimly, then flicker
out to us to BE- be lighted anon with
immortality in the upper Home
stead" We have seen the Octogena-
rian with feeble step. aud fsem the
bivorac of life he has looked to that
home not made with hands, and with
er be locked. his spirit has winged
its fight, and the last sunset Of 1881
sheds its lingering light upon his
grave. grt
We have had our Gethsemene, our
wOrmwOod and gall. Some Of US have
had winged arrows that came in other
forms than death and found lodg-
ment amidst the tenderest nerves Of
the soul, and the vail goes mp from
the heart whose commission is to live
ON and suffer; If il be possible, remove
this cup oh Father, that Thou hast
appointed me; but still the night
wears on and no watchman's voice is
heard saying "the morning breaketh. ="
Give rs strength according to the hour,
our Father which art in Heaven.
How intermittant have been the
pleasures and pains Of 1891 It's joy
guests have come to walk with us but
9 day, and we clasp the memory of
them close to our hearts-deep in our
souls. Oh! memory, memory, we
thank God for the gift.
How many hopes and dreams and
anticipations have we had that have
promised as beauty and fragrance, but
whose illustrations have been blight
instead Of bloomi
As We watch the declining sun, and
see the last flush of crimson and gold
that the sun Of 1881 viii ever ding
back to us, our hearts are filed with
an unspoken. infinite sadness, sad-
ness such as lips cannot utter; only
the heart must feel, for Just as the
dusky banner Of twilight Is unfurled
over all the land after q brilliant sun
set, % has darkness covered cur lives
after brief. bright morning.
But the records Of each life are kept
by our Father in Heaven-all the
changing scenes Of life and death, oI
love and sacrifice, ofpatience and hope
are known TO Him. He surveys al
His infinite leisnres. taking council ol
none. but from His own boundlesl
wisdom He droppeth gifts and graves
along the line OF our lives.
A mysterious Interchange 10 here
We hear q feeble step tottering ont
see bent and wasted form, and hail
blanched to the whiteneas Of snow
The old year 3 going gOingi Afew
mora throbhing pulsss-an open sep
ulchre-white linen-now the rattlinC
clods upon his coffn-the old year ha,
gone gone from the fearful prophesy
in which il was enveIoped. We have
olasped hands with the old year il
JOY and in tears. Ita mission il &C
c01nplished. and the angels have born
up to the everlasting throne Of Coz
your account and mine, oh reader
Which shan 1881 atand a. Q wiknes
for good orevill- Whatever Of omis
sion og commission that shall STAN