Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1886-08-14

After a long Continued, and finally
successful effort, we are permitted to
copy, and with this issue, present for the
first time in print, the following, which
was found On the summit of white
Rocks" by a lady resident Of Deadwood,
who had strolled to that high elevation
on the afternoon Of November 10th, 1884.
The writer having torn every page from
the little pass book except those on
tanning his musings, left nothing to
connect it with the author, and long
months having failed to reveal any trace
of the unknown writer, she has finally,
though rather reluctantly, consented to
its publication, expressing a hope that
it may, as it goes drifting around arrest
the gaze of it's unknown author, and be
greeted by him with a smile i'm conse-
quence of his having captured that
Dear capticns darling, yet lovely sweet
charmer," ana sincerely hopes that he
will have no further cause for weeping
by moonlight. or musing on that lonely
mountain at midnight alone:
In the still quiet hush Of this beauti-
ful bright November Sabbath eve. in
unbroken solitude and loneliness, | am
sitting upon the most elevated portion
Of the famed resort, known as The
white Rocks" which majestically
rears its towering form high in the
clouds, and commanding from its apex
and extended view to the eastward Of a
vast area ii plains belonging to the pub
lie domain, formerly known as the
Great American Desert. This elevated
peak overlooks the magic and romantic
citr Of Deadwood, with its uoisy crowd
Cd thoroughfares, and quaint little
sylvan homes as they cheerfully nestle
along the sloping hill sides. all shrouded
in shade from the evergreen pine. This
giant monster seems TO frown with con-
tempt upon the thousand hills Of lesser
magnitude within its range, and like a
huge gigantic sentinel, stands out in
BOLD relief, and grandeur sublime ;
seemingly 5"ving assumed the guardian.
ship over the many score of mounds
beLeatli whose surface, in deaths cold
embrace, are lying the moldering re-
mains of the aged matron and the once
merry maiden 1.-THE grey haired father
and his bright-eyed laughing little boys
and girls, and the more Innocent little
tender buds, whose angelic smiles were
the pride and JOY Of once happy, but
now heart-broken mothers all having
arrived here on one common level. to-
gether with the stranger unknown. The
road agent and his victim, and the
Acknowledged Representatives of far away
homes oriental yes, all have met i'm
these chambers of death on one common
level, and are silently mingling their
dust with the clods ofthe old graveyard,
and the sands of the newer and more
lovely cemetery of Mount Moria, whose
shade is equally and impartially dis
pensed to all who sleep within the
hounds of its encirciing embrace and
the low sweet melody of the murmuring
zephvrs. as they plaintively sigh their
winding way through the tassel shaped
clusters of the tail wavy pines, withhold
not II dulcet strain from even the
vllest Of the silent sleeping inmates
lying in peaceful repose at their base
nor pauses one moment to inquire who
sleep beneath their branches of waving
green. All, all, on one common level in
silence awaiting the that shall
wake them to join in kind sweet en-
braces Of loved ones again; and here at
this tall dizzy height as ! rest on the
waste of this cloud-girdled summit OF
crumbling white rocks, my tear be.
dimmed eyes sadly tnrn from the gloomy
abode Of the supulchered dead, who
calmly repose at its base, to gaze on the
multiplied beauties of mountain and
glen, and the foothills and plains in the
vista still farther beyond, rs they en-
chantingly unfold their wild weired
grandeur in lavish p~rofusion which
nature has painted so specially gorge
GUS, producing in this starry bright
moonlight a portrayal at once so
entrancingly grand, as to thrill me with
rapturous awe, aud yielding a Quieting
balm to my grief burdened heart, and
y fairy-like feast to my sombre inani-
mate soul and as ] sit gazing in deep
meditation, my mind all bewildered, in
voluntarily turns with sad gloomy
thoughts from these ornate, and rare
rival beauties, to an absent fair feminine
friend, and the crude rambling lines
which may follow as a finale to this
nights sad musings, / here dedicate to
that absent and matchless mysterious
maiden, and under the guise of mid
night Musings by Moonlight" by a
meek and modest melancholy man,
who from his aerial height on the crags
Of old whitley" sends them fluttering
adrift on their anonymous voyage, and
should they in their flight fall by the
wayside as unworthy o fperusal or place,
the unknown author will have no tears
of regret to waste in exchange for the