Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1893-06-10
Laughter has gone out Of the hall. Death

Laugntef mas gone out OF the hall naafys
In the summer house
Here Is q father id midlifs. His coming
noms at night is the signal for mirth. The
children rush to the door, and there are books
on the evening stand; and the hours pass
away on glad feet. There is nothing vayts
ing m that home. Religion Is there AMI
sacrif1ces on the altar morning and MIGHT
fou look In that household and say II can
not think OF anything happier. I do not
really believe the world is so sad place as
some people describe it to be- The scene
changes. Father is sick. The door, mnst
be kept shut. The deathwatch chirps dole
fully on the hearth. The children whisper
and walk softly where once they romped.
Passing the house late at night, you see the
quick CHANGING OF lights from room to room.
1t Is all over. Death in the summer houss.
HERE'S an aged mother-aged. but not in
firm. You think you will have the joy of car
ing for her wants good while yet. AS she
goes from house to house. to children and
grandchildren, her coming is a dropping of
sunlight in the dwelling. Your children SEQ
her coming through the lane, and they cry.
"Grandmother's Gomez Care for you has
marked up her face with many a deep
wrinkle, and her back stoops with car
rying your burdens. Some days she is
very quiet. She says she is not
sick, but something tells you you
sit with you no longer at the table nor at the
hearth. Her soul goes out SO gently you do
not exactly know the moment OF its going.
Fold the hands that have done many kind
pesses for you right over the heart that has
beat with love for you since before you were
born. Let the pilgrim rest. She is weary.
Death in the summer house,
Gather about US what we will of comfort
and luxury. when the pale messenger comes
ba M nj "a ora ant ira
pf the house before he comes in. nor entering
does he wait to examine the pictures we have
gathered on the wall, or bending over your
pillow ne does not stop to see whether there
Is color in the cheek, or gentIeness in the
bye, or intelligence in the brow. But what
of thats Must we stand for ever mourning
among the graves of our dead, No No Ths
people in Bengal bring cages of birds to the
graves of their dead and then they open the
cages and the birds go singing heavenward.
So would bring to the graves of your dead
all bright thoughts and congratulations and
bid them think of victory and redemption. |
stamp on the bottom of the grave, and it
breaks through into the light and glory OF
heaven
The ancients used to think that the straits
entering the Red sea were very dangerous
places, as they supposed that every ship that
went through those straits would be de-
stroyed, and they were in the habit of put
ting on weeds of mourning for those who
had gone on that voyage, as though they
were actually dead Doyou know what they
called those straits? They call them the
"Gate Of Tears Oh; stand to-day at the
gate Of tears through which many of your
loved ones have gone; and want to tell you
that all are not shipwrecked that have gone
through those straits into the great ocean
stretching out beyond.
The sound that comes from that other
shore on still nights when we are wrapped
in prayer makes me think that the departed
are not dead. We are the dead-we who
toll, we who weep, we who sin-we are the
dead. How my heart aches for human sor-
row This sound of breaking hearts that |
hear all about me- This last look of faces
that will never brighten again This last
kiss of lips that never will speak again
This widowhood and orphanage! Oh, when
will the day Of sorrow be gone?
After the sharpest winter the spring dis
mounts from the shoulder Of southern gale
and puts its warm hand upon the earth; and
in its palm there comes the grass, and there
come the flowers, and God reads over the
poetry of bird and brook and bloom and
pronounces it very good. What, my friends,
If every winter had not its spring, and every
night its day; and every gloom its glow; and
every bitter now its sweet hereafter? II you
have been on the sea, you know; as the ship
passes In tne nlSnl, Inere Is a pnOSpHOreScent
track left behind it, and as the waters roll up
they toss with unimaginable splendor Well,
across this great ocean of human trouble
Jesus walks. Oh; that in the phospnorescent
track of His feet we might all follow and be
illumined
There was gentleman in the rail car VIII.
saw in that same car three passengers OF
very different circumstances. The first was
a maniac He was carefully guarded by his
attendants his mind, like a ship dismasted,
was beating against a dark; desolate coast;
from which no help could come. The train
stopped and the man was taken out into the
asylum to waste away perhaps through years
of gloom. The second passenger was a
culprit The outraged law had seized on him.
As the cars iolted the chains ratified. On his
face were crime, depravity and despair. The
train halted, and he was taken out to the
penitentiary, to which he had been con-
demped. There was the third passenger I'M
der far different circumstances. She was
bride. Every hour was gay as marriage
bell. Life glittered and beckoned. Her COM
panion was taking her to his fathers house.
The train halted. The old man was there to
welcome her to her new home, and his white
locks showed down upon her as he sealed his
word with a fathers kiss.
Quickly we fly toward eternity. We will
soon be there. Some leave this life con-
demned culprits. They refused pardon ,
they carry their chains. Oh, may it be with
us that, leaving this fleeing life for the next,
we may find our Father ready to greet us to
be marriage banquet. Fathers wslco ms !
Fathers bosom! Fathers kiss! Heaven
Heaven.