The Grenada sentinel. [volume] (Grenada, Miss.) 1868-1955, 1889-02-23

heavily upon him, and the flower of his youth had
been crushed by the blow, but it seemed only to
/ give forth new perfume to the prai Sc ofGod.
| The speaker warmed with his subject, and, anon
the old fire gowed in his eye, and his voice was
raised with the clear tones of his manhood
strength as he spoke of the scenes they had passed
through together. Few were there among the
| audience that had journeyed with him SO long
but close by the pulpit were gathered that little
number, and the tears trickled down their fur
| rowed cheeks as that voice of days gone by rang
| through the assembly.
| "Ihave come to my last days. my old friends, !,
| said the old preacher 81 know my sands are al
| most run. The old man will not weary you long
| Yohder graveyard, whittier we are all tending, is
| just before me The wife ofmy youth lies there
my children lie there. To-day we follow another
of those who started in life with me- to his narrow
| home few days more will pass, and you Will
.hen lay this feeLle body there. This hand will be
cold this heart VIII cease to throb kindly for
my own people and these feeble limbs will be mo-
| tionless and still. The narrow house is my home
and it is near by now but, with him who lies in
death before you, can say. Il know tha my r.
deemcr ivcth and that in the latter day he shall
stand upon the earth and, though after my skin
worms shall destroy this body, yet in my flesh
| SHALL see GCd" The ol preacher paus for n
| moment as if LOST in silent retrospection, then
turned his eyes slowly to the side of the Old church
and gazed meamngly through the open windows,
on the STILL VIII tie monuments Or the dead as If TO
| call them to witness his sincerely.
"Your fathers where are they?" he asked in
trembling tones. And his long finger pointed to
the bnraI-ground, as bis answer fell from his
lips "There; and yet not there -
Oh hoW new and strange does Immortality seem
to US when beg ond IFS veil there is au eye that
looks lovingly on us, and a well known voice is
heard to whsper-"come e!" The sermon was
closed with most a,Sactng appeal to the youth
who were present to ~" 'n he appeared like sume
prophet ofo'd. When he sat down. universal
sob was heard throughout the building-that voice
| had sounded there for the last time.
The coffin was opened that al might once more
look upon the pale countenance within, and while
the congregation passed slowly by, few old men
| and women we're seen making their way noiseless-
ly among be aises, until ten or twelve stood ST.
lently around the head of the coffin the last REM
nant of the CID choir. All fell back away from the
scene, and they stood alone by the dead slowly
gathering around the body Of their once loved
| leader, they commenced the music Of the old
| Farewell Anthem. The voices were old, and had
lost their sweetness of former years, but the ex-
element of the occasion in measure renewed
their vigor and with most unearthly sweetness
| the tones of the nov forgotten music rolled up
| among the arches Of the roof
| "I am going on q long ana tedious journey,
Never to return-never to return
| Fare ye well, my friends. fare ye well
| am going where the prison doors are opened,
And the prisoners are set free, are set Tree.
God grant that we may meet again,
| In that world above, in that world aboven'
But they could not go on. Choked with feeling
and blended with tears, they hushed their singing
one by one, as the voices fell away. That ADthem
never was finished till they met their old choris-
| ter in the upper world.
| The tide Of feeling was too strong to be sten,med
Associations inseparably linked with life, hope
and youth, were called up, and the food-gates q
| sorrow were opened. There stood those who hat
joined together when the first blush of manhood
| had mantipd on their cheeks Side by side had
they stood while life was flowing joyously on
| There one, bowed now with years, from whose
| eye the fire Of energy had once fashed-now, low
and sunken 1t was soon to be withdrawn from It's
| earthly shrine. There was another, who has fol
years quietly worn her widows weeds upon whost
countenance the smile of youth and Of Joy hat
once rested-now weary and worn. she irew hel
veil closely to hide the tears that fell slowly from
| one wrinkle to another, on her aged face.
manhood full of grace, of energy. and of life-now
bent. bowed, gray and trembling with years. hey
stood like vanquished soldiers of the past, hum
bly, and mnurnfuly surrendering their arms to tn,
victorious army of the present, that marched by
exultingly by tn ir shattered ranks, and Haunted
the banner of their triumph in the faces, and owe
| the body of their fallen leader.
| They could not sing that anthem they had me
In the freshness ofiher youth to sing it together
They had mingI ID their voices in the heat of lfe'
eager conflict of manhood and it was hard nov
for them to acknowledge the weakness Of age
which had settled upon them. Times were chan
ged and as each now turned a saddened look upol
his altered companion, over their spirits swept ih
full tide IF ling, that walked every chord to lite
and the voice of song was hushed before the voic'
of nature and the old choir bowed their heads, II
the consciousness OF their own decay, In the sol
emn stiffness around the coffin of their faller
leader
The whole assembly 'swayed to and fro like reed.
IN the summer wind. Sobs broke on the stillnes.
from every side. Tears fell like rain from eyes
used tn weeping. and it was long before they start
ed anew to bury their dead out of their sight
They are ell gt ne now. few weeks after. the bel
rang at the close of day, the knt of another O.
| their nnmbei.
| watched by the bedside of one, and when Il G
morning sun arose, l believe just then the dawr .
ing of a new day to him was ushered IN. the tw
light of whose close was never more TO darken
around his soul. l have seen the funeral train
wind sDwly by to the burfl of one aud another
and they are gone now to their rest.
The ol minister and his then young assistant,
now too l,ep in their midst and plair; WHITE
mart le shaft; erected by the author, marks their
| last resi.g place; with the simple inscription.
"WEsHALL RISE AGAIN" Reader, the old Mil :
| lister. was the authors father, and his young
assistant and successor. was his younger brother
| GREENWooD LoDGE +, Miss. 1889.