The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1884-06-07
A DREAM OF HOME.

/ dreamed of home, and visions bright
Swept thro' my brain the 3ivelong night,
Visions of days forever flown.
OF scenes from all but menaory gone;
Faces once dearest on earth to me,
Faces Inever more shall see.
My childhood's home. my fathers cot;
And tho three thousand miles between
Of stOrm-tossed barriers lnteIvene;
Tho three and thirty years have He'd,
And those who made it home are dead,
Passed to the grave, one 0fter one.
Since last crossed Its threshold stone;
Yet there uprose, DER grave and foam.
Thr0' time and space, my ehildhood's d's home.
Unchanged thro' all the years since passed,
1t looked as when saw it last
The whitewashed front, the open door,
The, blazing turf, the sanded floor.
The dresser, loaded shele on shelf,
With flowing blue andablue-edged deli
WoOd-piggins. drinking cups Of yore,
But used as drinking cups no more;
The FURNISHED ting hung up for show,
The pots and kettles, ranged below,
The oaken tables, rush seat chairs.
The cupboard, snug behind the stairs.
The siesteen-on its merits named,
Good easy chair. straw-stuffed and framed,
hs Mncs hreegged s5azy iGfts seats as;s
The settle, cornered warmly there,
10 rest the wayworn wayfarer,
The open hearth with pendant crooks
And shelving hobs, and poke hole nooks,
Receptacles for tools and traps,
Useful and useless househould scraps.
Patchwork, nails, buttons, junk theeyeens,
Old slippers, billhooks and dudeens;
While round the room each dear old face
Beamed out from its accustomed place,
With looks as natural as tho
Yesternight WIS that T" long ago."
When life was in its gladstone morn,
Ere tears of ser1ous grief were born,
Ere dreams of exile crossed the brain,
mar 1ru CHI
Ere death came decimating, ere
The crave had cast shadow there.
Der grave and foam, thro' time and space,
How came it here, that ancient place,
As tho an age had retrogressed,
And space into span compressed,
The waveSAs twere brushed OH like tears;
The stone rolled back from buried years,
And early scenes revealed the view.
With all my boyhood loved and knew;
And all SO plain and iifelike seemed,
almost doubt twas only dreamed
Twas only dreamed, a vision all
Like forms that come at Memory's call,
Come with the Lightning fash of thought
Old friends with kindly beaming eyes.
From where the f." undiscovered " lies,
Through the dark valleys " dismal shade;
Out from the vacuum death has made;
From the lmpenetrable gloom
That hides the world beyond the tomb.
Out thro' the gates of death and in
From home of peace to haunts of sin.
The graves repose to the worlds din.
Tie Mepory's key nnlocks the gates
Relumes, snd Refabilitates.
Boston Pilot.
LOGIC.
1. Her Respectable Papa's.
- My dear be sensible! Upon my word,
This-f0r q woman events absurd.
His incomes not a hundred pounds know
He's not worth loving''-"But love him so. u
II. Her Mothers.
u You silly child, he is we'll made and tall;
But looks ara Tar from being all in all.
His social standings low, his family low.
He's NOT worth loving. And love him so. ~
III. Her Eternal Friends.
y Is that he picking up the fallen fan!
My dear! he's such an awkward. ugly man!
You must be certain. pet. to answer No.
He's not Eorth loving. And love him So -
45I ~. Her Brothers,
- By Joye! were a girl-through horrid hap
wouldn't hay6a milk-and- water chap,
The man has not single spark OF 60.
He's not worth loving. Yet / loFs him So
Y. Her O,cn.'
- And were he everything to which I've lis
Though he were ugly. awkward land he isn't
Poor, lowly-born, and destitute of CO.
He is worth loving for love him So"
Chambers Journal.