Nevada County picayune., 1890-09-18
person, and shall ever dwell there in

This whole poem is very touching and describes in matchlcss imagery .Na Old Arkansas Home-a type of tine Southern Home everywhc re-in its antc-bellum grandeur and pro- verbal hospitality, and then in its beIium chivalry and patriotism, and finally it's post-bellum poverty and diiapidation, but still clothed in hon or and dignity.
 But while these two poems-the Mississippi and the old Arkansas Home-are perhaps the grandest in memory and most lofty in style, they are by no means the most beau tiful and tender, and touching.
 Here for instance is little gem which we give in full and which, to our thought and heart, is inimitable in beauty and tenderness, and can hardly be read without tears by any parent-especially such as have wept over the loved and lost, and pressed the cold, sillen lips of death for tss last time on earth:
 INFANTS HtMATIO
 Weeping we stood within the gloom, Which hangs so darkly round the tomb, With friends who deeply felt our loss, And came to help us bear our cross
 And give our hearts that sad relief
 Which springs from sympathetic grief
 They gently raised the coian-lid,
 Which from our eyes his young face hid. There lay the baby. still In death,
 No heating pulse no baliny breath
 No winning loving smile was there, The mother, breaking heart 10 cheer.
 While standing there by corsc and shroud. With spirits ungui>hcd, broken, bowed, Nor hoping that the hot close night
 Around our souls, excluding light,
 Would ever break iis clouds away
 And brighten into cheerful day
 While standing thus beside the grave. wor:an's hand, deyoutly brave,
 loh be that hanl forever blcsty
 Did lay upon upon his little breast
 4 milk white rose No word she said, But laid that emblem on the dead,
 And OCT our hearts it swcety shed
 Celestial fragrance hopes divine,
 Which liftcd them to that pure shrine, Within ;he cloudless world on high
 Where flowers bloom but never die
 We felt the babe VII, in that land,
 And from our heart, we blessed th, hand The gentle hand, and fragrant flower. Which pointed there in that sad hour,
 Oh balmy and eternal cline
 so far above the woes of time
 Where earth, rcdeemcd-redecmcd by grace Break forth in song. of endless praise Whose echoes through the starry sphcrcs Are sometimes heard by mortal ear,
 May gentle hand, and cmhlem~ white, Point up to thy undviug hght,'
 From every ,orrow,stricken hearth, And every open grave earth.
 Really, we would rather be the author of such poem than the master of all the kingdoms of earth; as no mind could conceive or pencil ex- press it than that of those whose souls and hearts belong to the re- deemed of the Lord and are des- tined to enter and enjoy his king dom forever.
 Like ourself, Judge Smoote has tasted sorrow to the dregs, ill the way of bereavements in the domestic circlc-has lost loved ones, dcarer 1 than the life blood which throbs with every pulse and the foregoing sweet little poem, as quoted in full, clearly aludes to one such tender occasion
 And here is a similar one in scribed to the editor of this paper "To W. Jasper Blackburn in sympathy for one whom he know : has tasted of like griefs entitled "Hhe Past, the opening verse of which we quote;
 That world we call the Past
 What shadows finger there
 of joys that bloomrd but could hot last,
 ofloyes now ail despair
 Which we shall show our apprcci- ation of by copying at some future time, with suitable response,
 This little volume contains but 9i pages, but is brim-full of pure and poetic thought, which must be read to be appreciated. We would glad