The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1903-04-16
AN EASTER IDOL

fore she died and now, The same sun
| shines radiantly, the birds are as tuneful,
| the flowers perfect, friends smile as
| tenderly and warmly. joy laughs as gayly,
| the electricity of life thrills everywhere;
yet I forbode the whitening of each petal,
| the autumnal desertions of the birds, the
twilight after the sunshine; the long,
| dark night that she said with a meek
sigh she so much dreaded: the passing of
| friends, the hush of laughter, the fading
of life, for,
Dust TO DUST 1 heard one say,
| When they lead my dead away.
| Meath the ground, with face of gray,
1 On loves lonely funeral day.
Lips there were divinely sweet;
Never heart more purely beat,
Lovely from her brow to feet
Left where worms and molderings meet
l beheld her last struggle, heard the
catch, the gasp for the precious air that
would no longer enter the delicate, gentle
bosom and animate the crimson tides of
| life. An hour before her fingers ahd turn
ed purpling and cold. Mine rested on her
| blue-veined wrist, timing her iuttering.
thready pulse.
Can you find it?'' she asked.
Yes"
Then troubled breathing awhile. With
out lifting her eyelids she murmured in
the lowest voice possible, ''Kis me-"
So submerged in the death waters was
the drowning speech that l could not at
that moment of grief interpret the faint
articulation.
She was unconscious quickly and then.
too late, it came to my consciousness that
those two little hating syIlables asked
me for a last caress. My soul fell at the
feet of God in agony. my heart almost
disrupted with the blow of the shifting
realization that / had not recognized at
the instant of request what the departing
spirit desired.
her besechment did not meet an answer?
More than year has passed since the
clods, fell upon her narrow, garlanded
casket. If there are angels, she is one.
If there be God she is with him. Wher-
ever the good and true and great of the
earth have gone she is there-but where?
l stagger with grief when look into the
limitless, star-fiecked sky. How many
billions of miles away is heaven-billions-
decillions-what enumeration of miles is it
to the paradise where she dwells?
l have no clue but faith, and what is
faith? Belief in immortality; ceaseless,
continuous life, SO fine, so vibrant. so in
destructible that chemical elements that
build and anon disintegrate have no pow
er to mutilate. or rend, or bring death
or disaster to those who dwell in the
realm where infinite fire reaches from the
breast of God to the breasts of all trans
lated humanity.
1 have put agranite stone at her grave.
1t will last, they say, practically. forever.
1t tells her name. her age. her BIRTH her
death day. and in between there are heav-
emily chapters of kind words. tender deeds.
unselfsh affection, faithful devotion. up
rightness Little can the wolrd read be-
tween the lettering. Interlinea ted in the
gray rock is a story worthy of celestial
remembrance and chanting.
"Harps of the blessed, your music /
hear"
Who wrote that fallacy? No one hears
the paradsacal melodies. Is that poets
Pigment? Is the thought born of deep
truth, or only the fash of a shooting me-
teor. whose brilliant gases run through
space, burn an instant and separate in
the purple blackness of the midnight
dome?
The cemetery plot is turning green. The
grass blades are lifting from the erstwhile
winter frozen sod. Hai here are budlets
of LEAKAGE on the choice rose bushes
above her. Her? yes, her, Dust to DUST
and 'ashes to ashes" her once identity
is there.
What do l care what words were said,
Though she be dead, and she is dead,
| wonder can she hear my tread,
When l APPROACH her lowly bed.
BY pains tempestuous anguish led.
o rose of white, o rose of red,
1 found you both pressed on a leaf.
Where she had wept her farewell grief.
Within her Bible scanned this day.
is this marked warning: Little children, |
keep yourselves from idols Again |
(marked) two weeks before she died: Il |
am the resurrection and the life"
Hope of mankind. Easter, Balm of the |
mourner, Easter, The sepulcher seal Of |
Arimathea was broken. All seals will !
break. BLESSED are the dead who die in |
the Lord.
And this mortal shall put on immor- |
tally. and this corruption put on incor |
ruption." And l saw multi |
tude whom no man can number"
The Easter lilies bud and bloom,
The flower of hope lies on her tomb.
And she will waken some fair morn,
Even as the lilies white are born.
Have l dreamed you were no more. |
sweetheart What a woeful dreaml Dear |
est, say you love me; put your warm I
arms about your neck, and help me to /
arouse from this nightmare of horror. 1 /
swayed like the sea in doubt of storm or |
sunburst. How / adore you. God would |
not part us now. He will wait until we (
are old and gray, and can pass the sun
set bars together.
Awake, True she is dead-gone, |
There is nothing left me but-Easter
The odor of the lilies make me faint,
Take them away
This was the record of the heart break /
which I found in the desk which he be-
queathed me.-Laura Rosamond White.