Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1883-07-10
Vanished Years.

Who can look upon the vanished years
without sigh of regret for the many
beautiful remembered joys that the years
now vanished brought to us, but can never
return to us?
10 one, II Is the memory of the child s
caresslng fingers straying over the face and
hands, OF clinging arms about the neck
and the pattering of tiny, slippered feet
over the stairs or down the hall 1t is the
music OF a sweet, innocent voice, floating
IN ripping laughter, or precious baby
WORDS from the past along the vanished
years into the tide of the present.
10 another, sweet, loved faces that float
suddenly from the mist of vanished years,
as If the daisies grew not between the
closed eyes and our own, they meet us
again with the same never-forgotten glance
of tenderness, and we ask of the vanished
years If they have given back to us our
own, or whether the spirits of the air take
from, sometimes, only to vanish again,
leaving us only our memories. Half-for-
gotten songs float dreamily back to US, and
the memory of woman's smile, or man
y voice, has thrilled many heart with an
intensity of emotion that only presence
from the vanished years could bring.
Youth, beauty, love, and happiness, all
belong to the beautiful vanished years, and
looking forward brings not the satisfaction
that we lind IN silent, sweet communion
with the past.
The joys, the happiness that has been
ours is ours :still, for faithful memory is
ever going backward to the vanished years.
and bringing to us our treasures that have
been.
But in looking forward we see only what
may be, and past experience tells us that
hopes fail. Perhaps there is nothing in
the past of person who has reached the
quiet middle years of life, that SO brings
mingled sadness and smiles, as the recol-
lection of youths first love.
How real it all seemed then, and how
the vision changed.
The girl that seemed an angel then is
only an ordinary mortal now, faded and
world-weary, like the boy who thought
himself a man, and claimed the manly
right Of worshiping every angel in maidenlY
guise.
And from among the relics of the de-
parted years is drawn the curl of shining
hair that was such a tailisman.
1t is just as bright, jus, as golden now,
and it coils itself about your fingers Just as
prettily, reminding us in its almost ami
mated curling of The coquettish grace of its
wearer.
But, alas! the years in vanishing have
stolen from it its talismanic powers, and
to-day it is only lock of woman's hair.
shorn before the silver threads began to
linger in sad, silent token of the cares and
WEAKNESS of earth-life.
And thonght of silver hair brings rs
back to the present, aud glancing in the
mirror we find them plentifully bestowed
upon ourselves, and smile as we wonder if
the girl to whom that curl belonged has
kept that shining lock of bright chestnut
hair we gave her in exchange.
Only the vanished years can tell.
Why then did not that golden hair rest
forever in happy security against the breast
whereon it leaned when a lovers hand sew
cred the shining curl?
All we gather only the beautiful men,
ories from the vanished years. Our treach-
cries and deceitfulness we consign to the
past, and say, 'let the dead past hurry its
dead" and clasp more closely the sweet,
cherished memories that were SO exquisite
in the reality.
How sacredly we cherish them! How we
linger with them! But lingering with the
vanished years brings us to silent, grass
grown graves and mossy tombstones, and
thence to tears.
So fold away the treasured memories,
and we know that, though the straying baby
fingers may never more stray over our faces,
and hands, and hair-nor the tiny feet
make music over the stairs and down the
hall-nor white-haired age grow young
again-nor broken VOWS be renewed-nor
anything belonging to the vanished years
return TO us-we are fastening on to them.
Earth-life is only shadow of the sub
stance that the second life affords.
Eternity is before us, and who shall say
that in the eternal years all shall not be re-
stored to us.