Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1891-07-25
The Broken Hearted.

George D. Prentice.
1 have seen the infant sinking
down, like flower, to the grave; the
strong man fiercely breathing out his
soul upon the field of battle; the mis-
cradle convict standing upon the
scaffold, with deep curse quivering
on his lips; have viewed Death in
all his forms of darkness and VEN
geance, with a fearless eye, but L never
could look on woman, young and
lovely woman, fading away from the
earth in beautiful and uncomplain-
ing melancholy, without feeling the
very fountains of life turning to tears
and dust. Death is always terrible
but, when a form of angel beauty
is passing off to the silent land Of the
sleepers, the heart feels that some-
thing lovely in the universe is ceas-
ing from existence, and broods with
a sense of utter desolation over lonely
thoughts that come up, like spectres
from the grave, to haunt our mid
night musings.
Two years ago took up my resi-
dence for few weeks in a country
village in the eastern part of New
England. Soon after my arrival 1
became acquainted with a lovely
girl, apparently about II years of age.
She had lost the idol of her pure
hearts purest love and the shadows
of deep and holy memories were rest
ing like the wings of death upon her
brow. / first met her in the presence
of the mirthful. She was indeed a
creature to be worshipped--her brow
was garlanded with the young years
sweetest flowers, her yellow locks
were hanging beautifully and low
upon her bosom-and she moved
through the crowd with such float
ing and unearthly grace that the
gazer almost looked to see her fade
away in the air, like the creation Of
some lovely dream. She seemed
cheerful and even gay, yet saw that
her gaiety was but the hooking Of
her feelings, She smiled, but there
was something in her smile which
told that its mournful beauty was
but the reflection of a tear-and hel
eyelids at times closed heavily down
as if endeavoring to suppress the tide
of agony, she looked as if she could
have left the scene of festivity and
gone out beneath the quiet stars and
laid her forehead down upon the fresh
green earth and poured out hel
stricken soul, gush upon gush, until
it mingled with the eternal fountain
of life and purity.
Days and weeks passed on, and thai
sweet girl gave me her confidence
and l became to her as a brother
She was wasting away by disease
The smile upon her lip was fainter
the purple veins upon her cheek
grew visible, and the cadences Of he
voice became more weak and tremu
lous. On quiet evening in TIT
depth of June l wandered out will
her little distance in the open air
1t was then that she related to M
the story Of her passion and of tn,
blight that had come like mildev
upon her life. Love had a portion 0
her existence. Its tendrils had beer
entWined around her heart in it
earliest years, and when they wer
rent away they left a wound whicl
flowed until all the springs Of her lif
were blood. 81 am passing away
she said, land it should be so. TIL
winds have gone over my life, ant
the bright buds of hope and tn
sweet buds Of passion are scattere,
down and lie withered in the dust. O
rOtting away upon the chill waters G
memory. And yet l cannot go dow
among the tombs without a tear. |
is very hard to bid farewell to thos
dear scenes with which l have he'll
communion from childhood, an
which from day to day have caugh