Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1897-03-24

Low above yon distant hill. One by one
me birds cease their chirping and fly ava,
10 seek some cozy spot wherewith to spen,
The night
Lonely and alone
sit by the flow of the silent river.
dlding so gently, oh SO lovingly
on its never ending Journey. Its water
Murmurs sweetly at my weary feet; hut
Ihls brings to my fainting soul no peace, n,
JOY The shadows lengthen across its
crystal bosom; and as the earth grows still
A feeling of loneliness steals DER me.
l heed not the chime of distant
supper bell, for am weary, worn with
care A little stream, God only knows its
source,gurgles from rock TO rock from pool tc
FOOL, with never ending strains of sweetest
Harmony. An evening breeze, signing
Musically in distant wood, sways
The lilies gently sleeping on the rivers
feaceful breast. A distant weather beaten
Mill, with moss covered wheel and gras.
grown bay,
Adds beauty to the scence.
But for me,
Thanks be to God some one is happy now.
AT this moment there is no Joy. Wearily
MY eyes wonder DER the silv,ry waters,
Mhiie memory-ah, that soul string
Element of mortal man--recalls
Forgotten scence. Forgotten did l say?
surely did not mean that. Could II be
fossible that such could leave my mind
entirely? oh no: twas only obscured
BY other things; obscured only TO burst
forth at ev'ry new Impulse of thought.
But latter with dear name on my
Lips. That name! ah, how my very pulses
Thrill to hear so sweet u sound! how NV
Heart strings seem to quiver at the thouebtof
one so dear! oh, weary life! thou wilt roll
On!
oh, mighty world!
Oh. heartless world! canst thou not comfort
these
Lonely hearts of ours? oh earthly sentiment!
Art thou naught but vain? 'Tis thee we have
Harkened to, too long. Thy hand hast led us
Far astray; yet to naught but that we NAV
Return. And have loved thee world! this
Scorn 10 say, but can say aught brt truth?
MOI so: thou to me hast been Joy; I've
Loved thy rivers; thy mountains I've adored.
i've found refreshment In thy wooded yales: :
But, can 1t be true, that thou no longer
Bringst me peace? Surely 1t will come again: :
If not now, some time. But thou, O world.
with
All thy guilt, has taught me still to say:
Father, Thy hand
Hast led me on life's weary way: Tbon N
NE has been guide. have loved thy works;
my people have loved; but my heart is
wounded Father; thou alone canst read the
sorrow OF my hearts unuttered woe.
write not mere mental visions; speak
NOT mere labial words; but my heart is
Full kind Father; its grief can't suppress.
one way Is broad and smooth, dear Father:
the
fragrant flowers invite me on !; but Thou
Forbid'st me go that way; the other is
Rough and bare; but OF this have no fear.
For Thou dost help me bear my cross. Father
Ihou giv'st the earthly boon we crave, SURELY
Thou would'st pardon. We love TO form
with our
Frail hands the beauties of worldly art. vet
We know that the fate of earth,s most
glorious
Things is but to fade and die.
Oh, wretcbed
Life! Oh, weary world wherein we store so
Many hopes! Oh, flattering hope! whose
destiny
Is but to perish and decay. Methinks,
AS sit and gaze DER the dark'ning
Waters, for the sun is setting behind
fon distant hill. see on the gliding
River JOY borne away on ev'ry
Tide. But the beautiful as well as the
Homely must fade ami perish; the rose of
The garden and the thorn of the field alike
Are blasted by the winds of winter. The
swiftly gath'ring shadows are dark'ning
round
Me: the world grows calm and cold. Flow
gently
U crystal river, on thy never ending
Journey; bear thou peace TO mourning
hearts.
Flow on, o murm'ring brooklet, flow on to
The Fountain of Youth. Oh wretched life
thou
Wilt soon end! oh, weary world thou wilt
roll
On.
Washington College, Tenn, Aug, a. ,96