The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-08-17
THE DRAFTED DOOR.
BY RKv. r. F. HILDREIH.

Before the chceTleSs hearth; the silence at The family board. where never more will come The loved and lost all these. Death. arr
 signs
 CT thy unwelcome call
 There are no homes So bright. no hearts so true, no bliss so pure, Nor needs of life so great, that thou wilt not Invade them all, and with remorSeless greed. Destroy the fondeSt hopes the human heart Has ever known. Soon as the mothers kiss Is printed on the ruby lips of her Young babe. thy blighted chill falls on itS hear While vet it sleeps upon her loving breast, And with 4 shriek of pain. II drops into The grave. The rosy cheek Of youth whose sou Is glowing with the fires of hope and love By golden dreams of wealth, and fame, and
 power
 As longingly it turns it's eyes to years or bliss. with but touch of thlne, will pale In one short hour. and in thy presence all It's fondeSt hcpeS will vanish Ike the dews Of summer morn
 The blu~hing bride. before she's left the altar where she pledged her Love and life tO him who wooed and won her. Has felt thN chilling breath fall on her cheek While vel the dew of loves flrst kis WAS on Her lips. and he upon whose arm she leaned Has borne her rom that sacred spot d corpse. Manhood. with firm and steady step. with will To do and dare on any field of strife Where duty calls or danger turks, without A fear of anythint but wrong. will pale And flee. at thy approach. as flies the hare Before the hunters horn.
 The servant and His lord. The peasant and the king. are each Alike the objects oi thy tireleSS search And when fl pleaSeth thee tO call. no bolts. No bars can hinder thy approach, nor stay Thy cruel hand. The pleading eyes of grief Are turned to thee in Valn, as thy dark shadow falls aC ross the threshold of the Home, ar gathers like the misis of night on Pillows soft AS down. on which repOSe the orms of those we dearly love But tears do Not avail. o death. to tou@h heart So Cold as thine. for thou hast sever felt one Throb of sympathy or love. and SIghs and SObs have never moved or melted thee Al all nor prayers of bleeding. broken Heart has ever stayed the power Of Thy descending blow. The hand of skill has Tried ln vain to beat thee back, aud wIest from Thy unyielding grasp thine arrows dipped In gall, and aimed al those whose dee0s of Love have been benediciion 10 the World but with one stroke Of thy uplifted Rod the hand of love itself was chilled And he who sought to drive thee from thy prey Fell pulseleSS al thy feet. Ever rode the fiery steeds of war OCT Bloody fields CT strife, or led his marshaled Hosts with such reSlStless power amidst Thy fray of death. that, with his laurelS yet | pon his brow. thou hast not wrested from his Hand his blood -stalned sword, and led him As captive to the grave. The earth has Come to be but one vast burial pace-a World Of tOmbS-an empire where the dead are More than all the living. Air Is vocal with the sound of muffied bells, As ih theIr slow and measured tones they tell The living thou hast come again. Thou hast All seasons for thine own; :" for summer heat And winters chilling blasts; the dreamy days When autumn comes with golden fruits and
 stores
 Of Rarnered grain; and springtime with it's clear Are all allke to thee. No prairies are ''' N 70 vast, no mountain ranges stretch so far, Nor summits rise so high that thou dOSt not Explore them All fin search Of those who sought A place on which thy shadows never fall. Thou ridest on the pillows Of the deep Amidst the tempest's roar, and dashing waves Where float the ships of every land freighted With living souls in search Of sunny climes But even there thy cold dark shadows fall Like frost upon the tender flowers of Spring. and soon the merry laugh and joyous Song arc changed into a dirge of death Down in old oceans caves, in wakeless sleep Uncounted thousands lie. which fell bene ath Thy whitening touch. unmindful of the HldeOus forms which creep and crawl and float About them, and needing not the voices Of ihe deep which echo from the slimy Vaults, in which repose the loved and lost, aud Whom the longing heart no more shall see, till Thy dark reign shall end. Oh, God of Heavenl And IS this all there is of life? A dream Of love and bliss; day of itful smiles And tears: fellowship of loving hearts In friendships sunny bowers for just few Brief days or years, and then left all alone Amidst the awful gloom of death? Are all The longings of the soul for truth ana love Its ceaseless yearnlngs for immortal life: Our golden dream of changeless bliss where we Shall meet again our loved and lost a cheati mOcking voice that lures us on amidst Our tears and tCmbs, and then deserts us in The loneliness Of liie's last hour?
 Nol No! Poor heart, 1t cann6 be that He who gave To us a living soul, nature like His own in kind out of the depths of which This thirsfing for higher life springs up, And hopes of immortality inspire Us to endure the ills of earth, will mock