from the ,google ,print project47 ,,the ,,man ,,of ,,uz1 ,,and ,,other ,,poems4 ,,by ,,mrs4 ,l4 ,h4 ,,sigourney4 ,,hartford ,,williams1 ,,wiley ,,waterman4 #ahfb4 ,entered according to ,act or ,congress1 in the ,year #ahfb1 by ,,mrs4 ,l4 ,h4 ,,sigourney1 ,in the ,clerk's ,office of the ,district ,court of ,connecticut4 ,,preface4 ,the arrogance of attempting a parody on the most ancient and sublime poem in the ,inspired ,volume1 is not mine4 ,the great pleasure enjoyed in its perusal from early years1 had occasionally prompted metrical imitations of isolated passages4 ,these fragmentary effusions1 recently woven together1 are here presented1 with the hope that as wandering streams are traced to their original fountain1 some heart may thus be led to the history of the stricken and sustained ,patriarch1 with more studious research1 purer delight1 or a deeper spirit of devotion4 ,l4 ,h4 ,s4 ,hartford1 ,conn41 ,november #eth1 #ahfb4 ,,contents4 ,page4 ,preface1 #c ,the ,man of ,uz1 #i ,,the ,,rural ,,life ,,in ,,new ,,england1 ,canto ,first1 #ei ,canto ,second1 #ia ,canto ,third1 #aji ,,in ,,memoriam4 #ahei4 ,rev4 ,dr4 ,t4 ,m4 ,cooley1 #adg ,madam ,olivia ,phelps1 #adi ,martha ,agnes ,bonner1 #aea ,madam ,whiting1 #aec ,denison ,olmsted1 ,,ll4,d4 #aee ,herbert ,foss1 #aeg ,mrs4 ,charles ,n4 ,cadwallader1 #aei ,rev4 ,dr4 ,james ,w4 ,alexander1 #afa ,mrs4 ,joseph ,morgan1 #afc ,alice ,beckwith1 #afe ,mary ,shipman ,deming1 #afg #ahfj4 ,rev4 ,dr4 ,f4 ,w4 ,hatch1 #afi ,mrs4 ,payne1 #aga ,mrs4 ,mary ,mildenstein ,robertson1 #agc ,madam ,williams1 #age ,mr4 ,samuel ,ogden1 #agg ,mr4 ,george ,beach1 #agi ,miss ,margaret ,c4 ,brown1 #aha ,miss ,frances ,wyman ,tracy1 #ahc ,deacon ,normand ,smith1 #ahe ,mrs4 ,helen ,tyler ,beach1 #ahg ,mrs4 ,elizabeth ,harris1 #ahi ,miss ,anna ,m4 ,seymour1 #aia ,caleb ,hazen ,talcott1 #aic #ahfa4 ,miss ,jane ,penelope ,whiting1 #aie ,miss ,anna ,freeman1 #aig ,madam ,pond1 #aii ,annie ,seymour ,robinson1 #bja ,mrs4 ,georgiana ,ives ,comstock1 #bjc ,wentworth ,alexander1 #bjf ,mrs4 ,harvey ,seymour1 #bjh ,mrs4 ,frederick ,tyler1 #baa ,miss ,laura ,kingsbury1 #bac ,govenor and ,mrs4 ,trumbull1 #bad ,mrs4 ,emily ,ellsworth1 #bah ,rev4 ,dr4 ,stephen ,jewitt1 #bbj ,miss ,delia ,woodruff ,godding1 #bbb ,miss ,sara ,k4 ,taylor1 #bbd ,mr4 ,john ,warburton1 #bbf ,rev4 ,henry ,albertson ,post1 #bbh ,miss ,caroline ,l4 ,griffin1 #bcj ,mr4 ,normand ,burr1 #bcb ,hon4 ,thomas ,s4 ,williams1 #bcd ,col4 ,h4 ,l4 ,miller1 #bcg #ahfb4 ,col4 ,samuel ,colt1 #bci ,madam ,hannah ,lathrop1 #bdb ,henrietta ,selden ,colt1 #bdd ,the ,little ,brothers1 #bdg ,mr4 ,d4 ,f4 ,robinson1 #bdi ,mr4 ,samuel ,tudor1 #bea ,henry ,howard ,comstock1 #bed ,rev4 ,dr4 ,david ,smith1 #bef ,miss ,emily ,b4 ,parish1 #beh ,harriet ,allen ,ely1 #bfj ,miss ,catharine ,ball1 #bfa ,mrs4 ,morris ,collins1 #bfc ,mrs4 ,margaret ,walbridge1 #bfe ,the ,brothers ,buell1 #bfg ,mr4 ,phillip ,ripley1 #bfi ,richard ,ely ,collins1 #bga ,miss ,elizabeth ,brinley1 #bgc ,mr4 ,john ,a4 ,taintor1 #bge ,,the ,,man ,,of ,,uz4 ,a ,,joyous ,,festival4-- ,the gathering back ,of scattered flowrets to the household wreath4 ,brothers and sisters from their sever'd homes ,meeting with ardent smile1 to renovate ,the love that sprang from cradle memories ,and childhood's sports1 and whose perennial stream ,still threw fresh crystals o'er the sands of life4 --,each bore some treasured picture of the past1 ,some graphic incident1 by mellowing time ,made beautiful1 while ever and anon1 ,timbrel and harp broke forth1 each pause between4 ,banquet and wine-cup1 and the dance1 gave speed ,to youthful spirits1 and prolong'd the joy4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the patriarch father1 with a chasten'd heart ,partook his children's mirth1 having ,god's fear ,ever before him4 ,earnestly he brought ,his offerings and his prayers for every one ,of that beloved group1 lest in the swell ,and surging superflux of happiness ,they might forget the ,hand from whence it came1 ,perchance1 displease the ,almighty4 ,many a care ,had he that wealth creates4 ,not such as lurks ,in heaps metallic1 which the rust corrodes1 ,but wealth that fructifies within the earth ,whence cometh bread1 or o'er its surface roves ,in peaceful forms of quadrupedal life ,that thronging round the world's first father came ,to take their names1 'mid ,eden's tranquil shades1 ,ere sin was born4 ,obedient to the yoke1 ,five hundred oxen turn'd the furrow'd glebe ,where agriculture hides his buried seed ,waiting the harvest hope1 while patient wrought ,an equal number of that race who share ,the labor of the steed1 without his praise4 --,three thousand camels1 with their arching necks1 ,ships of the desert1 knelt to do his will1 ,and bear his surplus wealth to distant climes1 ,while more than twice three thousand snowy sheep ,whitened the hills4 ,troops of retainers fed ,these flocks and herds1 and their subsistence drew ,from the same lord1--so that this man of ,uz ,greater than all the magnates of the east1 ,dwelt in old time before us4 ,true he gave1 ,and faithfully1 the hireling his reward1 ,counting such justice 'mid the happier forms ,of ,charity1 which with a liberal hand ,he to the sad and suffering poor dispensed4 ,eyes was he to the blind1 and to the lame ,feet1 while the stranger and the traveller found ,beneath1 the welcome shelter of his roof ,the blessed boon of hospitality4 ,to him the fatherless and widow sought ,for aid and counsel4 ,fearlessly he rose ,for those who had no helper4 ,his just mind ,brought stifled truth to light1 disarm'd the wiles ,of power1 and gave deliverance to the weak4 ,he pluck'd the victim from the oppressor's grasp1 ,and made the tyrant tremble4 ,to his words ,men listened1 as to lore oracular1 ,and when beside the gate he took his seat ,the young kept silence1 and the old rose up ,to do him honor4 ,after his decree ,none spake again1 for as a prince he dwelt ,wearing the diadem of righteousness1 ,and robed in that respect which greatness wins ,when leagued with goodness1 and by wisdom crown'd4 ,the grateful prayers and blessings of the souls ,ready to perish1 silently distill'd ,upon him1 as he slept4 ,so as a tree ,whose root is by the river's brink1 he grew ,and flourish'd1 while the dews like balm-drops hung ,all night upon his branches4 ,yet let none ,of woman born1 presume to build his hopes ,on the worn cliff of brief prosperity1 ,or from the present promise1 predicate ,the future joy4 ,the exulting bird that sings ,mid the green curtains of its leafy nest ,his tuneful trust untroubled there to live1 ,and there to die1 may meet the archer's shaft ,when next it spreads the wing4 ,the tempest folds ,o'er the smooth forehead of the summer noon ,its undiscover'd purpose1 to emerge ,resistless from its armory1 and whelm ,in floods of ruin1 ere the day decline4 99 99 99 99 99 ,lightning and sword6 ,swift messengers1 and sharp1 ,reapers that leave no gleanings4 ,in their path ,silence and desolation fiercely stalk4 --,o'er trampled hills1 and on the blood-stain'd plains ,there is no low of kine1 or bleat of flocks1 ,the fields are rifled1 and the shepherds slain4 ,the ,man of ,uz1 who stood but yestermorn ,above all compeers1--clothed with wealth and power1 ,to day is poorer than his humblest hind4 ,a whirlwind from the desert6 ,all unwarn'd ,its fury came4 ,earth like a vassal shook4 ,majestic trees flew hurtling through the air ,like rootless reeds4 ,there was no time for flight4 ,buried in household wrecks1 all helpless lay ,masses of quivering life4 ,job's eldest son ,that day held banquet for their numerous line ,at his own house4 ,with revelry and song1 ,one moment in the glow of kindred hearts ,the lordly mansion rang1 the next they lay ,crush'd neath its ruins4 ,he1--the childless sire1 ,last of his race1 and lonely as the pine ,that crisps and blackens 'neath the lightning shaft ,upon the cliff1 with such a rushing tide ,the mountain billows of his misery came1 ,drove they not ,reason from her beacon-hold8 ,swept they not his strong trust in ,heaven away8 ,list1--list1--the sufferer speaks4 ,the ,lord who gave ,hath taken away1--and blessed be ,his name4 ,oh ,patriarch6--teach us1 mid this changeful life ,not to mistake the ownership of joys ,entrusted to us for a little while1 ,but when the ,great ,dispenser shall reclaim ,his loans1 to render them with praises back1 ,as best befits the indebted4 ,should a tear ,moisten the offering1 ,he who knows our frame ,and well remembereth that we are but dust1 ,is full of pity4 ,it was said of old ,time conquer'd ,grief4 ,but unto me it seems ,that ,grief overmastereth ,time4 ,it shows how wide ,the chasm between us1 and our smitten joys ,and saps the strength wherewith at first we went ,into life's battle4 ,we perchance1 have dream'd ,that the sweet smile the sunbeam of our home ,the prattle of the babe the ,spoiler seiz'd1 ,had but gone from us for a little while1-- ,and listen'd in our fallacy of hope ,at hush of eve for the returning step ,that wake the inmost pulses of the heart ,to extasy1--till iron-handed ,grief ,press'd down the nevermore into our soul1 ,deadening us with its weight4 ,the man of ,uz ,as the slow lapse of days and nights reveal'd ,the desolation of his poverty ,felt every nerve that at the first great shock ,was paralyzed1 grow sensitive and shrink ,as from a fresh-cut wound4 ,there was no son ,to come in beauty of his manly prime ,with words of counsel and with vigorous hand ,to aid him in his need1 no daughter's arm ,to twine around him in his weariness1 ,nor kiss of grandchild at the even-tide ,going to rest1 with prayer upon its lips4 ,still a new trial waits4 ,the blessed health ,heaven's boon1 thro' which with unbow'd form we bear ,burdens and ills1 forsook him4 ,maladies ,of fierce and festering virulence attack'd ,his swollen limbs4 ,incessant1 grinding pains ,laid his strength prostrate1 till he counted life ,a loathed thing4 ,dire visions frighted sleep ,that sweet restorer of the wasted frame1 ,and mid his tossings to and fro1 he moan'd ,oh1 when shall ,i arise1 and ,night be gone6 ,despondence seized him4 ,to the lowliest place ,alone he stole1 and sadly took his seat ,in dust and ashes4 ,she1 his bosom friend ,the sharer of his lot for many years1 ,sought out his dark retreat4 ,shuddering she saw ,his kingly form like living sepulchre1 ,and in the maddening haste of sorrow said ,god hath forgotten4 ,she with him had borne ,unuttered woe o'er the untimely graves ,of all whom she had nourished1--shared with him ,the silence of a home that hath no child1 ,the plunge from wealth to want1 the base contempt ,of menial and of ingrate2--but to see ,the dearest object of adoring love ,her next to ,god1 a prey to vile disease ,hideous and loathsome1 all the beauty marred ,that she had worshipped from her ardent youth ,deeming it half divine1 she could not bear1 ,her woman's strength gave way1 and impious words ,in her despair she uttered4 ,but her lord ,to deeper anguish stung by her defect ,and rash advice1 reprovingly replied ,pointing to ,him who meeteth out below ,both good and evil in mysterious love1 ,and she was silenced4 ,what a sacred power ,hath hallow'd ,friendship o'er the nameless ills ,that throng our pilgrimage4 ,its sympathy1 ,doth undergird the drooping1 and uphold ,the foot that falters in its miry path4 ,it grows more precious1 as the hair grows grey4 ,time's alchymy that rendereth so much dross ,back for our gay entrustments1 shows more pure ,the perfect essence of its sanctity1 ,gold unalloyed4 ,how doth the cordial grasp1 ,of hands that twined with ours in school days1 now ,delight us as our sunbeam nears the west1 ,soothing1 perchance our self-esteem with proofs ,that 'mid all faults the good have loved us still1 ,and quickening with redoubled energy ,to do or suffer4 ,the three friends of ,job ,who in the different regions where they dwelt ,teman1 and ,naamah and the ,shuhite land1 ,heard tidings of his dire calamity1 ,moved by one impulse1 journey'd to impart ,their sorrowing sympathy4 ,yet when they saw ,him fallen so low1 so chang'd that scarce a trace ,remained to herald his identity ,down by his side upon the earth1 they sate ,uttering no language save the gushing tear1-- ,spontaneous homage to a grief so great4 99 99 99 99 99 ,oh ,silence1 born of ,wisdom6 we have felt ,thy fitness1 when beside the smitten friend ,we took our place4 ,the voiceless sympathy ,the tear1 the tender pressure of the hand ,interpreted more perfectly than words ,the purpose of our soul4 ,we speak to err1 ,waking to agony some broken chord ,or bleeding nerve that slumbered4 ,words are weak1 ,when ,god's strong discipline doth try the soul2 ,and that deep silence was more eloquent ,than all the pomp of speech4 ,yet the long pause ,of days and nights1 gave scope for troubled thought ,and their bewildered minds unskillfully ,launching all helmless on a sea of doubt ,explored the cause for which such woes were sent1 ,forgetful that this mystery of life ,yields not to man's solution4 ,passing on ,from natural pity to philosophy ,that deems ,heaven's judgments penal1 they inferr'd ,some secret sin unshrived by penitence1 ,that drew such awful visitations down4 ,while studying thus the wherefore1 with vain toil ,of painful cogitation1 lo6 a voice ,hollow and hoarse1 as from the mouldering tomb1 ,perish the day in which ,i saw the light6 ,the day when first my mother's nursing care ,sheltered my helplessness4 ,let it not come ,into the number of the joyful months1 ,let blackness stain it and the shades of death ,forever terrify it4 ,for it cut ,not off as an untimely birth my span1 ,nor let me sleep where the poor prisoners hear ,no more the oppressor1 where the wicked cease ,from troubling and the weary are at rest4 ,now as the roar of waves my sorrows swell1 ,and sighs like tides burst forth till ,i forget ,to eat my bread4 ,that which ,i greatly feared ,hath come upon me4 ,not in heedless pride ,nor wrapped in arrogance of full content ,i dwelt amid the tide of prosperous days1 ,and yet this trouble came4 ,with mien unmoved ,the ,temanite reprovingly replied3 ,who can refrain longer from words1 even though ,to speak be grief8 ,thou hast the instructor been ,of many1 and their model how to act4 ,when trial came upon them1 if their knees ,bow'd down1 thou saidst1 be strong1 and they obey'd4 ,but now it toucheth thee and thou dost shrink1 ,and murmuring1 faint4 ,the monitor forgets ,the precepts he hath taught4 ,is this thy faith1 ,thy confidence1 the uprightness of thy way8 ,whoever perish'd being innocent8 ,and when were those who walk'd in righteous ways ,cut off8 ,how oft ,i've seen that those who sow ,the seeds of evil secretly1 and plow ,under a veil of darkness1 reap the same4 99 99 99 99 99 ,in visions of the night1 when deepest sleep ,falls upon men1 fear seiz'd me1 all my bones ,trembled1 and every stiffening hair rose up4 ,a spirit pass'd before me1 but ,i saw ,no form thereof4 ,i knew that there it stood1 ,even though my straining eyes discern'd it not4 ,then from its moveless lips a voice burst forth1 ,is man more just than ,god8 ,is mortal man ,more pure than ,he who made him8 ,lo1 he puts ,no trust in those who serve him1 and doth charge ,angels with folly4 ,how much less in them ,dwellers in tents of clay1 whose pride is crush'd ,before the moth4 ,from morn to eve they die ,and none regard it4 ,so despise thou not ,the chastening of the ,almighty1 ever just1 ,for did thy spirit please him1 it should rise ,more glorious from the storm-cloud1 all the earth ,at peace with thee1 new offspring like the grass ,cheering thy home1 and when thy course was done ,even as a shock of corn comes fully ripe ,into the garner should thy burial be ,beldv'd and wept of all4 ,mournful arose ,the sorrowful response4 ,oh that my grief ,were in the balance laid by faithful hands ,and feeling hearts4 ,to the afflicted soul ,friends should be comforters4 ,but mine have dealt ,deceitfully1 as fails the shallow brook ,when summer's need is sorest4 ,did ,i say ,bring me a gift8 or from your flowing wealth ,give solace to my desolate penury8 ,or with your pitying influence neutralize ,my cup of scorn poured out by abject hands8 ,that thus ye mock me with contemptuous words ,and futile arguments1 and dig a pit ,in which to whelm the man you call a friend8 ,still darkly hinting at some heinous sin ,mysteriously concealed8 ,writes conscious guilt ,no transcript on the brow8 ,hangs it not out ,its signal there1 altho' it seem to hide ',neath an impervious shroud8 ,look thro' the depths ,of my unshrinking eye1 deep1 deep within4 ,what see ye there8 what gives suspicion birth8 ,as longs the laborer for the setting sun1 ,watching the lengthening shadows that foretell ,the time of rest1 yet day by day returns ,to the same task again1 so ,i endure ,wearisome nights and months of burdening woe4 ,i would not alway live this loathed life ,whose days are vanity4 ,soon shall ,i sleep ,low in the dust1 and when the morning comes ,and thro' its curtaining mists ye seek my face ,i shall not be4 99 99 99 99 99 ,earnest the ,shuhite spake1 ,how long shall these thy words1 like eddying winds ,fall empty on the ear8 ,doth ,god pervert ,justice and judgment8 ,if thy way was pure1 ,thy supplication from an upright heart ,he would awake and make thy latter end ,more blest than thy beginning4 ,for inquire ,of ancient times1 of ,history's honor'd scroll ,and of the grey-hair'd fathers1 if our words ,seem light1 we who were born but yesterday4 ,ask them and they shall teach thee1 as the rush1 ,or as the flag forsaken of the pod1 ,so shall the glory of the hypocrite ,fade in its greenness4 ,tho' his house may seem ,awhile to flourish1 it shall not endure4 ,even tho' he grasp it with despairing strength ,it shall deceive his trust and pass away1 ,as fleets the spider's filmy web4 ,behold ,god will not cast away the perfect man ,nor help the evil doer4 99 99 99 99 99 ,in low tones1 ,sepulchral1 and with pain1 the sufferer spake1 ,i know that this is truth1 but how can man ,be just with ,god8 ,how shall he dare contend ,with ,him who stretches out the sky and treads ,upon the mountain billows of the sea1 ,and sealeth up the stars8 ,array'd in strength1 ,he passeth by me1 but ,i see ,him not4 ,i hear ,his chariot-wheels1 yet fear to ask ,where goest ,thou8 ,if ,i1 indeed1 were pure1 ,and perfect1 like the model ye see fit ,to press upon me with your sharpest words1 ,i would not in mine arrogance arise ,and reason with ,him1 but all humbly make ,petition to my ,judge4 ,if there were one ,to shield me from ,his terrors1 and to stand ,as mediator1 ,i might dare to ask ,why didst ,thou give this unrequested boon ,of life1 to me1 unhappy8 ,my few days ,are swifter than a post4 ,as the white sail ,fades in the mist1 as the strong eagle's wing ,leaves no receding trace1 they flee away1 ,they see no good4 ,hath not ,thy mighty hand ,fashion'd and made this curious form of clay1 ,fenc'd round with bones and sinews1 and inspired ,by a mysterious soul8 ,oh be not stern ,against ,thy creature1 as the ,lion marks ,his destin'd prey4 ,relent and let me take ,comfort a little1 ere ,i go the way ,whence ,i return no more1 to that far land ,of darkness and the dreary shades of death4 99 99 99 99 99 ,scarce had he ceas'd ere ,zophar's turbid thoughts ,made speed to answer4 ,shall a tide of talk ,wash out transgression8 ,if thou choose to set ,the truth at nought1 must others hold their peace8 ,hast thou not boasted that thy deeds and thoughts ,were perfect in the almighty ,maker's sight8 ,canst thou by searching find out ,god8 ,behold ,higher than heaven it is1 what canst thou do8 ,deeper than deepest hell1 what canst thou know8 ,why wilt thou ignorantly deem thyself ,unblamed before ,him8 ,oh that ,he would speak1 ,and put to shame thine arrogance4 ,his glance ,discerns all wickedness1 all vain pretence ,to sanctity and wisdom4 ,were thine heart ,rightly prepared1 and evil put away ,from that and from thy house1 then shouldst thou lift ,thy spotless face1 clear as the noon-day sun ,stedfast and fearless4 ,yea1 thou shouldst forget ,thy misery1 as waters that have past ,away forever4 ,thou shouldst be secure ,and dig about thee and take root1 and rest1 ,while those who scorn thee now1 with soul abased1 ,should make their suit unto thee4 ,but the eyes ,of wicked men shall fail1 and as the groan ,of him who giveth up the ghost1 shall be ,their frustrate hope4 ,dejectedly1 as one ,who wearied in a race1 despairs to reach ,the destined goal1 nor yet consents to leave ,his compeers masters of an unwon field4 ,job said1-- ,no doubt ye think to have attained ,monopoly of knowledge1 and with you ,wisdom shall die4 ,this modesty of creed ,befits ye well4 ,yet what have ye alledg'd ,unheard before8 what great discoveries made8 ,who knoweth not such things as ye have told8 ,despised am ,i by those who call'd me friend ,in prosperous days4 ,like a dim1 waning lamp ,about to be extinguished am ,i held ,by the dull minds of those who dwell at ease4 ,weak reasoners that ye are1 ye have essay'd ,to speak for ,god4 ,suppose ye ,he doth need ,such advocacy8 whose creative hand ,holdeth the soul of every living thing1 ,and breath of all mankind8 ,he breaketh down1 ,and who can build again8 ,princes and kings ,are nothing in his sight4 ,disrobed of power ,ceaseless they wander and ,he heedeth not4 ,those whom the world have worship'd seem as fools4 ,he lifteth up the nations at ,his will1 ,or sweeps them with his lightest breath away ,like noteless atoms4 ,silence is for you ,the truest wisdom4 ,creatures that ye count ,inferior to yourselves1 who in thin air ,spread the light wing1 or thro' the waters glide1 ,or roam the earth1 might teach if ye would hear ,and be instructed by them4 ,hold your peace6 ,even tho' ,he slay me ,i will trust in ,him ,for ,he is my salvation1 ,he alone2 ,at whose dread throne no hypocrite shall dare ,to stand1 or answer4 ,man1 of woman born ,is of few days1 and full of misery4 ,forth like a flower he comes1 and is cut down1 ,he fleeth like a shadow4 ,what is man ,that ,god regardeth him8 ,the forest tree ,fell'd by the woodman may have hope to live ,and sprout again1 and thro' the blessed touch ,of waters at the root put forth new buds ,and tender branches like a plant4 ,but man ,shorn of his strength1 doth waste away and die1 ,he giveth up the ghost and where is he8 ,as slides the mountain from its heaving base ,hurling its masses o'er the startled vale1 ,as the rent rock resumes its place no more1 ,as the departed waters leave no trace ,save the groov'd channels where they held their course ,among the fissur'd stones1 his form of dust ,with its chang'd countenance1 is sent away ,and all the honors that he sought to leave ,behind him to his sons1 avail him not4 ,he ceas'd and ,eliphaz rejoin'd1 ,a man ,of wisdom dealeth not in empty words ,that like the east wind stirs the unsettled sands ,to profitless revolt4 ,thou dost decry ,our speech and proudly justify thyself ,before thy ,god4 ,he to whose searching eye ,heavens' pure immaculate ether seems unclean4 ,ask of tradition1 ask the white hair'd men ,much older than thy father1 since to us ,thou deign'st no credence4 ,say they not to thee1 ,all1 as with one consent1 the wicked man ,travaileth with fruitless pain1 a dreadful sound ,forever in his ears2 the mustering tramp ,of hostile legions on the distant cloud1 ,a far-off echo from the woe to come8 ,such is his lot who sinfully contends ,against the just will of the ,judging ,one1 ,lifting his puny arm in rebel pride ,and rushing like a madman on his doom4 ,the wealth he may have gathered shall dissolve ,and turn to ashes mid devouring flame4 ,his branch shall not be green1 but as the vine ,casteth her unripe grapes1 as thro' the leaves ,of rich and lustrous hue1 the olive buds ,untimely strew the ground1 shall be his trust ,who in the contumacy of his pride ,would fain deceive both others and himself4 ,to whom1 the ,man of ,uz1-- ,these occult truths ,if such ye deem them1 ,i have heard before2 ,oh miserable comforters6 ,i too ,stood but your soul in my soul's stead1 could heap ,vain1 bitter words1 and shake my head in scorn4 ,but ,i would study to assuage your pain1 ,and solace shed upon your stricken hearts ,with balm-drops of sweet speech4 ,yet1 as for me1 ,i speak and none regard1 or drooping sit ,in mournful silence1 and none heed my woe4 ,they smite me on the cheek reproachfully1 ,and slander me in secret1 though my cause ,and witness rest with the clear-judging ,heaven4 ,my record is on high4 ,oh ,thou1 whose hand ,hath thus made desolate all my company1 ,and left me a poor1 childless man--behold ,they who once felt it pride to call me friend1 ,make of my name a by-word1 which was erst ,like harp or tabret to their venal lip4 ,mine eye is dim with grief1 my wasted brow ,furrow'd with wrinkles4 ,soon ,i go the way ,whence ,i shall not return4 ,the grave1 my house1 ,is ready for me4 ,in its mouldering clay ,my bed ,i make1 and say unto the worm ,thou art my sister4 ,with unpitying voice ,not comprehending ,job1 the ,shuhite spake4 ,how long ere thou shalt make an end of words ,so profitless and vain8 ,thou dost account ,us vile as beasts4 ,but shall the stable earth ,with all its rocks and mountains be removed ,for thy good pleasure8 ,see1 the light forsake ,the wicked man4 ,darkness and loneliness ,enshroud his dwelling-place4 ,his path shall be ,mid snares and traps1 and his own counsel fail ,to guide him safely4 ,by the heel1 the gin ,shall seize him1 and the robber's hand prevail ,to rifle and destroy his treasure hoard4 ,secret misgivings feed upon his strength1 ,and terrors waste his courage4 ,he shall find ,in his own tabernacle no repose1 ,nor confidence4 ,his withering root shall draw ,no nutriment1 and the unsparing ax ,cut off his branches4 ,from a loathing world ,he shall be chased away1 and leave behind ,no son or nephew to bear up his name ,among the people4 ,no kind memories ,shall linger round his ashes1 or refresh ,the bearts of men4 ,they who come after him ,shall be astonish'd at his doom1 as they ,who went before him1 view'd it with affright4 ,such is the lot of those who know not ,god ,or wickedly renounce ,him4 ,earnestly ,replied the suffering man1 ,ye vex my soul ,and break it into pieces4 ,these ten times ,have ye reproach'd me1 without sense of shame ,or touch of sympathy4 ,if ,i have err'd ,as without witness ye essay to prove ',tis my concern1 not yours4 ,but yet1 how vain ,to speak of wrong1 or plead the cause of truth ,before the unjust4 ,can ye not understand ,god in his wisdom hath afflicted me8 ,ilis hand hath reft away my crown and stripp'd ,me of my glory4 ,kindred blood vouchsafes ,no aid or solace in my deep distress4 ,estrang'd and far away1 like statues cold ,brethren and kinsfolk stand4 ,familiar friends ,frown on me as a stranger4 ,they who dwell ,in my own house and eat my bread1 despise me4 ,i call'd my own tried servant1 but he gave ,no answer or regard4 ,my maidens train'd ,for household service1 to perform my will ,count me an alien2--even with my wife ,my voice hath lost its power4 ,young children rise ,and push away my feet and mock my words4 ,yea1 the best loved1 most garner'd in my heart ,do turn against me as a thing abhorr'd4 ,have pity1 pity on me1 oh my friends6 ,the hand of ,god hath smitten me4 ,i know ,that my ,redeemer liveth1 and shall stand ,at last upon the earth1 and though in death ,worms shall destroy this body1 in my flesh ,shall ,i see ,god4 99 99 99 99 99 ,this glorious burst of faith ,springing from depths of misery and pain ,awed them a moment1 like the lightning's flash1 ,cleaving the cloud4 ,but gathering strength again1 ,they sought the conflict4 ,thou1 who art so wise1 ,hast thou not learn'd how baseless is the joy ,and boasting of the hypocrite8 ,his head ,up to the heavens in excellence and pride ,may seem to mount1 yet shall he swiftly fall ,leaving no trace4 ,though still he toils to keep ,his sin a secret from his fellow-men1 ,like a sweet1 stolen morsel1 hiding it ,under his tongue1 yet shall the veil be rent4 ,god's fearful judgments shall make evident ,what he hath done in darkness4 ,vipers' tongues ,and the dire poison of the asp1 shall be ,his recompense4 ,terrors shall strike him through1 ,an inward fire of sharp remorse1 unblown ,by mortal hand1 shall on his vitals feed1 ,and all his strength consume4 ,his wealth shall fleet1 ,and they who trusted to become his heirs ,embrace a shadow1 for his goods shall flow ,away1 as the false brook forsakes its sands4 ,this is the portion of the hypocrite1 ,the heritage appointed him by ,god4 99 99 99 99 99 ,to ,zophar answered ,job1-- ,hear ye my speech1 ,and when 'tis done1 mock on4 ,not unto man ,is my complaint4 ,for were it so1 my heart ,would sink in darker depths of hopeless woe4 ,say ye that earth's 'prosperity' rewards ,the righteous man8 ,why do the wicked live1 ,grow old1 and magnify themselves in power8 ,their offspring flourish round them1 their abodes ,are safe from fear4 ,their cattle multiply ,and widely o'er the hills and pastures green ,wander their healthful herds4 ,forth like a flock ,they send their little ones1 with dance and song1 ,tabret and harp4 ,they spend their days in wealth ,and sink to slumber in the quiet grave4 ,yet unto ,god they said1 ,depart from us1 ,for we desire no knowledge of thy ways4 ,why should we serve the ,almighty8 ,who is he8 ,and what our profit if we pray to ,him8 ,close by these impious ones lies down to sleep1 ,one in the strength and glory of his prime1 ,whom sorrow never touch'd1 nor age impair'd2 ,and still another1 wan misfortune's child1 ,nurtur'd in bitterness1 who never took ,his meat with pleasure4 ,side by side they rest ,on ,death's oblivious pillow4 ,do ye say ,their varied lot below1 mark'd their deserts8 ,in retribution just8 99 99 99 99 99 ,but as for you ,with eyes so sharp for your own selfish ends1 ,who by the wayside ask where'er ye go1 ,where is the dwelling of the prince8 and seek ,gain more than godliness1 ,i know full well ,your deep contempt for one too poor to bribe ,your false allegiance1 and the unkind device ,ye wrongfully imagine4 ,will ye teach ,knowledge to ,god8 ,doth ,he not wisely judge ,the highest8 and reserve the sons of guilt ,for the destruction that awaiteth them8 99 99 99 99 99 ,in quick rejoinder1 ,eliphaz replied1 ,what is thy fancied goodness in the sight ,of the ,almighty8 ,is it gain to ,him ,if thou art righteous8 ,would it add to ,him ,gladness or glory1 that thy ways should be ,what thou call'st perfect8 ,rather turn thine eyes ,upon the record of thy sins1 and see ,their countless number4 ,hast thou taken a pledge ,from thy poor brother's hand8 or reft away ,the garment from the shivering8 or withheld ,bread from the hungry8 or the widow sent ,empty away8 not given the weary soul ,what it implored8 nor bound the broken arm ,of the forsaken fatherless8 ,for this ,have snares beset thee8 and a secret fear ,dismay'd thy spirit8 and a rayless night ,shut over thee8 ,look to the height of heaven1 ,above the utmost star4 ,is not ,god there8 ,think'st thou that aught can intercept ,his sight ,or bar ,his righteous judgment8 ,he who makes ,the thickest clouds ,his footstool1 when ,he walks ,upon the circuit of the highest heavens8 ,acquaint thyself with ,him and be at peace1 ,return to ,him1 and ,he shall build thee up4 ,take thou ,his precepts to thine inmost heart ,that thy lost blessings may revisit thee4 ,put far away thy foster'd sins1 and share ,the swelling flood-tide of prosperity4 ,thou shalt have silver at thy will1 and gold1 ,the gold of ,ophir in thy path shall lie ,as stones that pave the brooks4 ,make thou thy prayer1 ,and pay thy vows1 and ,he will hear thy voice ,and give thee light1 and thy desires confirm3 ,for ,he will save the humble and protect ,the innocent and still deliver those ,whose hands are pure4 ,to whom1 the ,man of ,uz1 ,oh that ,i knew where ,i might find my ,judge1 ,that ,i might press even to ,his seat1 and plead ,my cause before ,him4 ,would ,he strike me dumb ,with ,his great power8 ,nay1--rather would he give ,strength to the weakness that would answer ,him4 ,lo6 ,i go forward1--but ,he is not there1-- ,and backward1 yet my eyes perceive ,him not4 ,on the left hand1 ,his works surround me still1 ,but ,he is absent1--on the right1 ,i gaze1 ,yet doth ,he hide ,himself4 ,but well ,he knows ,my way1 and when the time of trial's o'er1 ,and the refining fire hath purg'd the dross1 ,i shall come forth as gold4 ,my feet have kept ,the path appointed1 nor from ,his commands ,unduly swerved1 for ,i have prized ,his word ,more than my needful food4 ,yet ,he performs ,what ,his wise counsel hath decreed for me1 ,though sometimes sinks my soften'd heart beneath ,the terror of ,his stroke4 ,there are1 who seize ,with violence whate'er their eyes desire2 ,gorging themselves upon the stolen flock ,and leaving desolate the rifled hut ,of the defenceless4 ,solitary ones ,hide from their robberies1 for forth they go ,into the wilderness1 their prey to hunt ,like ravening beasts4 ,there are1 who watch to slay1 ,rising before the dawn1 or wrapp'd in night ,roaming with stealthy footstep1 as a thief1 ,to smite their victims1 while the wounded groan ,struck by their fatal shaft4 ,there are1 who do ,such deeds of utter darkness as detest ,the gaze of day4 ,muffling their face1 they dig ,their way to habitations where they leave ,shame and dishonor4 ,though ,he seem to sleep1 ,god's eye is on their ways4 ,a little while ,they wrap themselves in secret infamy1 ,or proudly flourish1--but as the tall tree ,yields in a moment to the wrecking blast1 ,as 'neath the sickle falls the crisping corn1 ,shall they be swept away1 and leave no trace4 99 99 99 99 99 ,bildad1 the ,shuhite1 rose in act to speak4 ,dominion is with ,god1 and fear4 ,he makes ,peace in his own high places4 ,dost thou know ,the number of ,his armies8 ,or on whom ,his light ariseth not8 ,how then can man ,be justified with ,god8 or he be pure ,born of a woman4 ,lo6 the cloudless ,moon1 ,and yon unsullied stars1 are in ,his sight ,dim and impure4 ,can man who is a worm ,be spotless with his ,maker8 ,hark1 the voice ,of the afflicted man3 ,how dost thou help ,him that is powerless8 how sustain the arm ,that fails in strength8 how counsel him who needs ,wisdom8 and how declare the righteous truth ,just as it is8 ,to ,him who reads the soul1 ,hades is naked1 and the realms of ,death ,have naught to cover them4 ,this pendent ,earth ,hangs on his word1--in gathering clouds he binds ,the ponderous waters1 till at his command ,they rend their filmy prison4 ,day and night ,await his nod to run their measured course4 ,heaven's pillars and its everlasting gates ,tremble at his reproof4 ,the cleaving sea ,and man's defeated pride confess his power4 ,yet the same ,hand that garnisheth the skies ,disdaineth not to fashion and sustain ,the crooked serpent4 ,but how small a part ,of all its works are understood by us ,dim dwellers in this lowly vestibule1 ,and by the thunders of mysterious power ,still held in awe4 ,as the ,eternal lives ,who hath bow'd down my soul1 as long as breath ,inspires this mortal frame1 these lips shall ne'er ,utter deceit1 nor cast away the wealth ,of a good conscience4 ,while ,i live ,i'll hold ,fast mine integrity1--nor justify ,the slanderous charges of a secret guilt ,ye bring against me4 ,for what is the gain ,of the base hypocrite when ,god shall take ,away his perjured soul8 ,yourselves have seen ,how often in this life the wicked taste ,of retribution4 ,the oppressor bears ,sway for a while1--but look6--the downfall comes4 ,his offspring shall not flourish1 nor his grave ,be wet with widow's tears4 ,the unjust rich man ,heapeth up silver for a stranger's hand1 ,he hoardeth raiment with a miser's greed ,to robe he knows not who1 though he himself ,had grudg'd to wear it4 ,boastfully he builds ,a costly mansion to preserve his name ,among the people4 ,but like the slight booth1 ,brief lodge of summer1 shall it pass away4 ,terrors without a cause1 disable him ,and drown his courage4 ,like a driven leaf ,before the whirlwind1 shall he hasten down ,to a dishonor'd tomb4 ,men shall rejoice1 ,and clap their hands1 and hiss him from his place ,when he departs4 ,surely1 there is a vein ,for silver1 and a secret bed for gold ,which man discovers4 ,where the iron sleeps ,in darkest chambers of the mine he knows1 ,and how the brass is molten4 ,but a ,mind ,deeper than his1 close-hidden things explores1 ,searching out all perfection4 ,earth unveils ,the mystic treasures of her matron breast1 ,bread for her children1 gems like living flame1 ,sapphires1 whose azure emulates the skies1 ,and dust of gold4 ,yet there's a curtain'd path ,which the unfettered denizens of air ,have not descried1 nor even the piercing eye ,of the black vulture seen4 ,the lion's whelps ,in their wide roaming1 nor their fiercer sire ,have never trod it4 ,there's a ,hand that bares ,the roots of mountains at its will1 and cuts ,through rifted rocks a channel1 where the streams ,and rivers freely flow--an ,eye that scans ,each precious thing4 ,but where doth ,wisdom dwell8 ,and in what curtain'd chamber was the birth ,of ,understanding8 ,the great ,sea uplifts ,its hand in adjuration1 and declares ',tis not with me1 and its unfathom'd deep ,in subterranean thunders1 echoing cry ,no1 not with me4 ,offer ye not for them ,silver1 or ,ophir's gold1 nor think to exchange ,onyx1 or sapphire1 or the coral branch ,or crystal gem where hides imprison'd light1 ,nor make ye mention of the precious pearl ,or ,ethiopian topaz1 for their price ,transcendeth rubies1 or the dazzling ray ,of concentrated jewels4 ,in what place ,are found these wondrous treasures8 ,who will show ,their habitation8 which alike defies ,the ken of those who soar1 or those who delve ,in cells profound4 ,death and destruction say1 ,from their hoarse caverns1 ,we have heard their fame ,but know them not4 ,lo6 ,he who weighs the winds ,measures the floods1 controls the surging sea ,and points the forked lightnings where to play1 ,he1 unto whom all mysteries are plain ,all secrets open1 all disguises clear1 ,saith unto man the questioner1-- ,behold ,the fear of ,god is wisdom1 and to break ,the sway of evil and depart from sin ,is understanding4 ,anguish wrings my soul ,as in my hours of musing ,i restore ,the picture of my lost prosperity1 ,when round my side my loving children drew ,and from my happy home my steps were hail'd ,where'er ,i went4 ,the fatherless and poor1 ,and he who had no helper1 welcomed me ,as one to right their wrongs1 and pluck the spoil ,from the oppressor's teeth4 ,pale widows raised ,the glistening eye of gratitude1 and they ,whose sight was quench'd1 at my remembered tones ,pour'd blessings on me4 ,overflowing wealth ,brought me no titles that ,i held so dear ,as father of the poor1 and comforter ,of all who mourn4 ,when in the gate ,i sate ,the nobles did me honor1 and the wise ,sought counsel of me4 ,to my words the young ,gave earnest heed1 the white-hair'd men stood up1 ,and princes waited for my speech1 as wait ,the fields in summer for the latter rain4 ,but now1 the children of base men spring up ,and push away my feet1 and make my name ,a bye-word and a mockery1 which was erst ,set to the harp in song4 ,because my wealth ,god hath resumed1 they who ne'er dared to claim ,equality with even the lowest ones ,who watch'd my flock1 they whom my menials scorned1 ,dwellers in hovels1 feeding like the brutes ,on roots and bushes of the wilderness1 ,despise me1 and in mean derision cast ,marks of abhorrence at the fallen chief ,whom erst they fear'd4 ,unpitied ,i endure ,sickness and pain that ope the narrow house ,where all the living go4 ,my soul dissolves ,and flows away as water--like the owl ,in lone1 forgotten cavern ,i complain1 ,for all my instruments of music yield ,but mournful sounds1 and from my organ comes ,a sob of weeping4 ,i appeal to ,him ,who sees my ways1 and all my steps doth count1 ,if ,i have walk'd with vanity or worn ,the veil of falsehood1 or despised to obey ,the law of duty2 if ,i basely prowl'd ,with evil purpose round my neighbor's door1 ,or scorn'd my humblest menial's cause to right ,when he contended with me1 and complain'd1 ,framed as he was of the same clay with me ,by the same ,hand ,divine2 or shunn'd to share ,even my last morsel with the hungry poor1 ,or shield the uncovered suppliant with the fleece ,of my own cherish'd flock4 ,if ere ,i made ,fine gold my confidence1 or lifted up ,my heart in pride1 because my wealth was great1 ,or when ,i saw the glorious ,king of ,day ,gladdening all nations1 and the queenly ,moon ,walking in brightness1 was enticed to pay ,a secret homage1--'twere idolatry ,unpardonably great4 ,if ,i rejoiced ,in the affliction of mine enemy ,or for his hatred breathed a vengeful vow ,when trouble came upon him1--if ,i closed ,the inhospitable door against the foot ,of stranger1 or of traveller1--or withheld ,full nutriment from any who abode ,within my tabernacle1--or refused ,due justice even to my own furrow'd field1 ,then let my harvest unto thistles turn1 ,and rootless weeds o'ertop the beardless grain4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then ceased the ,man of ,uz1 like one o'erspent1 ,feeling the fallacy of argument ,with auditors like these1 his thoughts withdrew ,into the shroud of silence1 and he spake ,no more unto them1 standing fix'd and mute1 ,like statued marble4 ,then1 as none replied1 ,a youthful stranger rose1 and while he stretch'd ,his hand in act to speak1 and heavenward raised ,his clear1 unshrinking brow1 he worthy seem'd ,to hold the balance of that high debate4 ,still1 an indignant warmth1 with energy ,of fervid eloquence his lips inspired4 --,i said that multitude of days should bring ,wisdom to man1 and so gave earnest heed ,to every argument4 ,and lo6 not one ,of all your speeches have convicted ,job1 ,or proved your theory that woes like his ,denote a secret guilt4 ,i listened still ,with that respect which youth doth owe to age1 ,and till ye ceased to speak1 refrain'd to show ,mine own opinion4 ,but there is a breath ,from the ,almighty1 that gives life to thought1 ,and in my soul imprison'd utterance burns ,like torturing flame4 ,so1 will ,i give it vent ,though ,i am young in years1 and ye are old1 ,and should be wise4 ,i will not shun to uphold ,the righteous cause1 nor will ,i gloze the wrong ,with flattering titles1 lest the kindling wrath ,of an offended ,maker1 sweep me hence4 ,hearken1 ,o ,job1 ,i pray thee1 to my words ,for they are words of truth4 ,thou hast assumed ,more perfect innocence than appertains ,to erring man1 and eager to refute ,false accusation hast contemn'd the course ,of the ,all-,merciful4 ,why shouldst thou strive ,with ,him whose might of wisdom ne'er unveils ,its mysteries to man8 ,yet doth ,he deign ,such hints and precepts as the docile heart ,may comprehend4 ,sometimes in vision'd sleep1 ,his ,spirit hovereth o'er the plastic mind ,sealing instruction4 ,or a different voice ,its sterner teaching tries4 ,his vigor droops1 ,strong pain amid the multitude of bones ,doth revel1 till his soul abhorreth meat4 ,his fair flesh wastes1 and downward to the pit ,he hourly hastens4 ,holy ,sympathy ,may aid to uphold him in its blessed arms ,kindly interpreting the ,will ,divine1 ,with angel tenderness4 ,but if the ,god ,whose gracious ear doth hear the sigh of prayer ,baptized with dropping tears--perceives the cry ,of humbled self-abasing penitence1 ,he casts away the scourge--the end is gained4 ,fresh as a child's1 the wither'd flesh returns1 ,and life1 and health1 and joy1 are his once more4 ,with discipline like this1 ,he often tries ,the creatures ,he hath made1 to crush the seeds ,of pride1 and teach that lowliness of soul ,befitting them1 and pleasing in ,his sight4 99 99 99 99 99 ,oh ,man of ,uz--if thou hast aught to add ,unto thy argument--,i pray thee1 speak6 ,fain would ,i justify thee4 ,is it well ,to combat ,him who hath the right to reign8 ,or even to those who fill an earthly throne ,and wear a princely diadem1 to say1 ,ye are unjust8 ,but how much less to ,him ,the fountain of all power1 who heedeth not ,earth's vain distinctions1 nor regards the rich ,more than the poor1 for all alike are dust ,and ashes in ,his sight4 ,is it not meet ,for those who bear ,his discipline1 to say ,i bow submissive to the chastening ,hand ,that smites my inmost soul8 ,oh teach me that ,which through my blindness ,i have failed to see1 ,for ,i have sinn'd1 but will offend no more4 ,say1 is it right1 ,oh ,job1 for thee to hold ,thyself superior to the ,all-,perfect ,mind8 ,if thou art righteous what giv'st thou to ,him ,who sits above the heavens8 ,can ,he receive ,favor from mortals8 ,open not thy mouth ,to multiply vain words1 but rather bow ,unto the teaching of ,his works that spread ,so silently around4 ,his snows descend ,and make the green ,earth hoary4 ,chains of frost ,straighten her breadth of waters4 ,dropping rains ,refresh her summer thirst1 or rending clouds ,roll in wild deluge o'er her4 ,roaming beasts ,cower in their dens affrighted1 while she quakes ,convuls'd with inward agony1 or reels ,dizzied with flashing fires4 ,again she smiles ,in her recovered beauty1 at ,his will1 ,maker of all things4 ,so1 ,he rules the world1 ,with wrath commingling mercy4 ,who may hope ,with finite mind to understand ,his ways1 ,so excellent in power1 in wisdom deep1 ,in justice terrible1 respecting none ,who pride themselves in fancied wisdom4 ,hark6 ,on the discursive speech a whirlwind breaks1 ,tornadoes shake the desert1 thunders roll ,and from the lightning's startled shrine1 a voice6 ,the voice of the ,eternal4 ,who is this ,that darkeneth knowledge by unmeaning words8 ,gird up thy loins and answer4 ,where wert thou ,when the foundations of the earth were laid8 ,who stretch'd the line1 and fix'd the corner-stone1 ,when the bright morning-stars together sang ,and all the hosts that circle round the ,throne ,shouted for joy8 ,whose hand controll'd the sea ,when it brake forth to whelm the new-fram'd world8 ,who made dark night its cradle and the cloud ,its swaddling-band8 commanding ,hitherto ,come1 but no further4 ,at this line of sand ,stay thy proud waves4 ,hast thou call'd forth the morn ,from the empurpled chambers of the east1 ,or bade the trembling day-spring know its place8 ,have ,orion's depths been open'd to thy view8 ,and hast thou trod his secret floor8 or seen ,the gates of ,death's dark shade8 ,where doth light dwell8 ,and ancient ,darkness1 that with ,chaos reign'd ,before ,creation8 ,dost thou know the path ,unto their house1 because thou then wert born8 ,and is the number of thy days so great8 ,show me the treasure-house of snows4 ,unlock ,the mighty magazines of hail1 that wait ,the war of elements4 ,who hath decreed ,a water-course for embryo fountain springs8 ,mark'd out the lightning's path and bade the rain ,o'erlook not in its ministries the waste ,and desolate plain1 but wake the tender herb ,to cheer the bosom of the wilderness4 ,tell me the father of the drops of dew1 ,the curdling ice1 and hoary frost that seal ,the waters like a stone1 and change the deep ,to adamant4 ,bind if thou canst1 the breath ,and balmy influence of the ,pleiades4 ,bring forth ,mazzaroth in his time1 or guide ,arcturus1 with his sons4 ,canst thou annul ,the fix'd decree that in their spheres detain ,the constellations8 ,will the lightnings go ,forth on thine errands1 and report to thee ,as loyal vassals8 ,who in dying clay ,infused the immortal principle of mind1 ,and made them fellow-workers8 ,if thou canst ,number the flying clouds1 and gather back ,their falling showers1 when parch'd and cleaving earth ,implores their charity4 ,wilt hunt the prey ,with the stern forest-king8 or dare invade ,the darkened lair where his young lions couch ,ravenous with hunger8 ,who the ravens feeds ,when from the parent's nest hurl'd out1 they cry ,and all forsaken1 ask their meat from ,god8 ,know'st thou the time when the wild goats endure ,the mother-sorrow8 how their offspring grow ,healthful and strong1 uncared for1 and unstall'd8 ,who made the wild ass like the desert free1 ,scorning the rein1 and from the city's bound ,turning triumphant to the wilderness8 ,lead to thy crib the unicorn1 and bind ,his unbow'd sinews to the furrowing plough1 ,and trust him if thou canst to bring thy seed ,home to the garner4 ,who the radiant plumes ,gave to the peacock8 or the winged speed ,that bears the headlong ostrich far beyond ,the baffled steed and rider8 not withheld ,by the instinctive tenderness that chains ,the brooding bird1 she scatters on the sands ,her unborn hopes1 regardless though the foot ,may trampling crush them4 ,hast thou given the ,horse ,his glorious strength1 and clothed his arching neck ,with thunder8 ,at the armed host he mocks1-- ,the rattling quiver1 and the glittering spear4 ,prancing and proud1 he swalloweth the ground ,with rage1 and passionate desire to rush ,into the battle4 ,at the trumpet's sound1 ,and shouting of the captains1 he exults1 ,drawing the stormy terror with delight ,into his fearless spirit4 ,doth the ,hawk ,in her migrations counsel ask of ,thee8 ,mounts the swift ,eagle up at thy command8 ,making her nest among the star-girt cliffs1 ,and thence undazzled by the vertic sun ,scanning the molehills of the earth1 or motes ,that o'er her bosom move4 ,say1--wilt thou teach ,creative ,wisdom8 or contend with ,him ,the ,almighty1--ordering all things at ,his will8 99 99 99 99 99 ,then there was silence1 till the chastened ,one ,murmured as from the dust1 ,lo1 ,i am vile6 ,what shall ,i answer thee8--,i lay my hand ,upon my mouth4 ,once have ,i dared to speak1 ,but would be silent now1 forevermore4 --,yet still1 in thunder1 from the whirlwind's wing1 ,jehovah's voice demanded1-- ,wilt thou dare ,to disannul my judgments8 and above ,unerring wisdom1 and unbounded power ,exalt thine own8 ,hast thou an arm like mine8 ,array thyself in majesty1 and look ,on all the proud in heart1 and bring them low1-- ,yea1 deck thyself with glory1 cast abroad ,the arrows of thine anger1 and abase ,the arrogant1 and send the wicked down ,to his own place1 sealing his face like stone ,deep in the dust2 for then will ,i confess ,thy might1 and that thine own right hand hath power ,to save thyself4 ,hast seen my ,behemoth1 ,who on the grassy mountains finds his food8 ,and 'neath the willow boughs1 and reeds1 disports ,his monstrous bulk8 ,his bones like brazen bars1 ,his iron sinews cased in fearful strength ,resist attack6 ,lo6 when he slakes his thirst ,the rivers dwindle1 and he thinks to draw ,the depths of ,jordan dry4 ,wilt cast thy hook ,and take ,leviathan8 ,wilt bind thy yoke ,upon him1 as a vassal8 ,will he cringe ,unto thy maidens8 ,see the barbed spear ,the dart and the habergeon1 are his scorn4 ,sling-stones are stubble1 keenest arrows foil'd1 ,and from the plaited armor of his scales ,the glittering sword recoils4 ,where he reclines1 ,who is so daring as to rouse him up1 ,with his cold1 stony heart1 and breath of flame8 ,or to the cavern of his gaping jaws ,thick set with teeth1 draw near8 ,the ,hand alone ,that made him can subdue his baleful might4 99 99 99 99 99 ,jehovah ceas'd1--for the ,omniscient ,eye ,that scans the inmost thought of man1 discern'd ,its work completed in that lowliness ,of deep humility which fits the soul ,for heavenly intercourse1 and renovates ,the blessed image of obedient love ,that ,eden forfeited4 ,out of the depths ,of true contrition sigh'd a trembling tone ,in utter abnegation1 ,i repent6 ,in dust and ashes4 ,i abhor myself4 --,thus the returning prodigal who cries ,unclothed and empty1 ,father6 ,i have sinn'd1 ,and am not worthy to be called thy son1 ,finds full forgiveness1 and a free embrace1 ,while the best robe his shrinking form enfolds4 ,but with this self-abasement toward his ,god ,job mingled tenderest regard for man4 ,no longer with indignant warmth he strove ,against his false accusers1 or retained ,rankling remembrance of the enmity ,that vexed his wounded soul ,with earnest prayers ,and offerings1 he implored offended ,heaven ,to grant forgiveness to those erring friends1 ,paying with love the alienated course ,of their misguided minds4 ,heaven heard his voice1 ,and with that intercession sweet1 return'd ,the sunbeams of his lost prosperity4 ,back came his buried joys4 ,they had no power ,to harm a soul subdued4 ,the refluent tide ,of wealth swept o'er him4 ,on his many hills ,gathered the herds1 and o'er his pastures green ,sported the playful lambs4 ,the tuneful voice ,of children fill'd his desolate home with joy1 ,and round his household board their beauty gleam'd1 ,making his spirit glad4 ,so full of days1 ,while twice our span of threescore years and ten1 ,mark'd out its silvery chronicle of moons ,still to his knee his children's children climb'd ,to hear the wisdom he had learned of ,god ,through the strong teaching both of joy and woe4 99 99 99 99 99 ,nor had this sublunary scene alone1 ,witness'd his trial4 ,doubt ye not that forms ,to earth invisible were hovering near ,with the sublime solicitude of ,heaven4 ,for he1 the bold1 bad ,spirit1 in his vaunting pride ,of impious revolt1 had dared to say ,unto the ,king of ,kings1 ,stretch forth thy hand ,and take away all that he hath1 and ,job ,will curse ,thee to ,thy face4 ,methinks we hear ,an echo of angelic harmony ,from that blest choir who struck their harps with joy ,that from the ,tempter's ordeal he had risen ,an unhurt victor4 ,round the ,throne they pour'd ,their gratulations that the born of clay ,tho' by that mystery bow'd which ever veils ,the inscrutable counsels of the ,all-,perfect ,one1 ,might with the chieftain of the ,rebel ,host ,cope unsubdued and heavenward hold his way4 ,,the ,,rural ,,life ,,in ,,new-,,england4 ,,introduction4 ,it may be thought that the following poem1 especially its opening ,canto is too minute and circumstantial in its descriptions4 ,yet the habitudes of a past and peculiar generation1 fast fading from remembrance1 are worthy of being preserved1 though little accordant with romance1 perhaps with poetry4 ,so rapid has been our progress as a people1 that dimness gathers over the lineaments of even our immediate ancestry4 ,yet traits at one period despised1 or counted obsolete1 may at another be diligently sought after and re-juvenated4 ,it has been observed that nations reaching their zenith1 regard with more complacency their rising morn1 than the approaching west4 ,france1 notwithstanding the precision given to her language by ,richilieu1 and the ,academy1 turns back affectionately to her ,troubadours and ,trouvires1 to the long-drawn1 scarce-readable ,romance of the ,rose1 and the itinerant ,chronicles of ,froissart4 ,england is not indifferent to ,anglo-,saxon traditions1 or the customs of her ,norman dynasty4 ,a time may arrive when our posterity will not scorn to be reminded of the primitive usages of their rural fathers4 ,to that time1 and to unborn readers1 this simple poem is dedicated4 ,l4 ,h4 ,s4 ,,the ,,rural ,,life ,,in ,,new-,,england4 ,,canto ,,first4 ,peaceful is the rural life1 made strong by healthful industry1 ,firm in love of the birth-land1 and the laws that govern it1 ,calm through moderated desires and a primitive simplicity1 ,walking filially with ,nature as the ,patriarchs walked with ,god4 ,such have ,i beheld it in my native vales1 green and elm-shaded4 ,such hath it been depicted in their legends who went before me2 ,what therefore1 ,i have seen and heard1 declare ,i unto you ,in measures artless and untuneful4 ,fearless of hardship1 ,in costume1 as in manners1 unadorn'd and homely ,were our ancestral farmers1 the seed-planters of a strong nation4 ,congenial were their wives1 not ashamed of the household charge1 ,yoke-fellows that were help-meets1 vigorous and of a good courage2 ,revolting not at life's plain intent1 but its duties discharging ,patiently1 lovingly1 and with true faith looking upward4 ,thence came the rudiments of an inflexible people ,whose praise is in themselves4 ,hail to the ancient farmer6 ,broad-shouldered as ,ajax--deep-chested through commerce with free air1 ,not enervated by luxury1 nor care-worn with gold-counting1 ,content with his lot1 by pride and envy unvisited4 ,muscular was his arm1 laying low the kings of the forest1 ,uncouth might be his coat1 and his heavy shoes1 ,vestris flouted1 ,at the grasp of his huge hand1 the dainty belle might have shuddered4 ,yet blessings on his bronzed face1 and his warm1 honest heart1 ,whose well-rooted virtues were the strength and stay of republics4 99 99 99 99 99 ,true independence was his1 earth and sky being his bankers1 ,bills drawn on them1 endorsed by toil were never protested4 ,bathed in vernal dews was his glistening plough-share1 ,birds1 newly-returned1 the merry nest-builders1 bade him good morrow1 ,keenly wrought his scythe in summer1 where fell the odorous clover1 ,clear was his song at autumn-husking1 amid piles of golden corn4 ,winter saw him battling the drifted snows1 with his oxen1 ,bearing to the neighboring town1 fuel that gladden'd the hearth-stone4 ,deep in undisturbed beds then slept the dark-featured anthracite1 ,steam not having armed itself to exterminate the groves1 ,lavishly offering them as a holocaust to winged horses of iron1 ,like ,moloch1 cruel god1 dooming the beautiful to the flame4 99 99 99 99 99 ,independent was the farmer1 the food of his household being sure2 ,with the fields of waving grain2 with the towering tassell'd maize2 ,with the herds1 moving homeward1 bearing their creamy nectar2 ,he saw1 and gather'd it1 giving thanks to the bountiful ,father4 ,among the lambs sporting in green pastures1 among the feathery people1 ,among the fruit-laden branches1 he beheld it also2 ,under the earth1 on the earth1 in the air1 ripen'd his threefold crop4 ,swelling in the cluster'd vine1 and the roots of the teeming garden1 ,the ,garden--precious spot6 which ,god deign'd to bless at the beginning1 ,placing therein ,man1 made after his own glorious image1 ,to dress it and to keep it4 ,hail1 to the ancient farmer1 ,naught to him the fall of stocks that turns pale the speculator1 ,naught to him the changes of trade1 wrinkling the brow of the merchant1 ,naught to him1 the light weight1 or exorbitant price of the baker2 ,sure was his bread1 howsoe'er the markets might fluctuate1 ,sweet loaves of a rich brown1 plentifully graced his table1 ,made by the neat hand of wife or daughter1 happy in healthful toil4 ,skilfully wrought the same hands1 amid the treasures of the dairy1 ,rich cheeses1 and masses of golden butter1 and bowls of fragrant milk ,not doled out warily1 as by city dames1 but to all1 free and flowing2 ,woman's right it was1 to crown the board with gifts of her own preparing2 ,rights not disputed1 not clamored for in public assemblies1 ,but conceded by approving ,love1 whose manliness threw around her ,a cherishing protection1 such as ,god willed in ,paradise4 99 99 99 99 99 ,dense was the head of the ,maple1 and in summer of a lustrous green1 ,yet earliest in autumn1 among all trees of the forest1 ,to robe itself in scarlet1 like a cardinal going to conclave4 ,subjected was it in spring1 to a singular phlebetomy2 ,tubes inserted through its bark1 drew away the heart's sweet blood1 ,pore after pore emptying itself1 till the great arteries were exhausted4 ,fires then blazed amid the thickets1 like the moveable camp of the gipsies1 ,and in boiling kettles1 fiercely eddying1 struggled the caloric1 ,with gases1 and the saccharine spirit1 until the granulated sugar1 ,showed a calm1 brown face1 welcome to the stores of the housewife2 ,moulded also into small cakes1 it formed the favorite confection ,of maiden and swain1 during the long evenings of courtship4 99 99 99 99 99 ,gamboling among wild flowers1 gadded the honey-bee1 ,bending down their innocent heads1 with a buzzing lore of flattery1 ,beguiling them of their essences1 which with tireless alacrity1 ,straightway deposited he in his cone-roof'd banking-house1 ,subtle financier--thinking to take both dividend and capital4 ,but failing in his usury1 for duly cometh the farmer1 ,despoiling him of his hoard1 yea6 haply of his life also4 ,stern was the policy of the olden times1 to that diligent insect1 ,not skill'd like our own1 to confiscate a portion of his earnings1 ,leaving life and limb unscathed for future enterprise4 ,welcome were the gifts of that winged chemist to a primitive people4 ,carefully cloistered in choice vases1 was the pure1 virgin honey1 ,sacred to honor'd guests1 or a balm to the sore-throated invalid4 ,dealt out charily1 was the fair comb to the gratified little ones1 ,or1 to fermentation yielded1 producing the spirited metheglin4 ,not scorn'd by the bee-masters1 were even those darken'd hexagons ,where slumber'd the dead like the coral-builders in reefy cell4 ,even these to a practical use devoted the clear-sighted matron1 ,calling forth from cavernous sepulchres cheerful light for the living4 ,cleansed and judiciously mingled with an oleagenous element1 ,thus drew she from the mould1 waxen candles1 whose gold-tinted beauty ,crown'd proudly the mantel-piece1 reserved for bettermost occasions4 ,unheard of1 then1 was the gas1 with briliant jet and gorgeous chandelier1 ,nor hunted they from zone to zone1 with barbed harpoon the mighty whale1 ,making the indignant monarch of ocean1 their flambeau and link-boy3 ,for each household held within itself1 its own fountain of light4 ,faithful was the rural housewife1 taking charge of all intrusted things1 ,prolonging the existence of whatever needed repair1 ,requiring children to respect the property of their parents1 ,not to waste or destroy1 but be grateful for food and clothing2 ,teaching them industry1 and the serious value of fleeting time1 ,strict account of which must be rendered to the ,master and ,giver of ,life4 ,prudence was then held in esteem and a laudable economy ,not jeered at by miserly names1 but held becoming in all1 ,for the poor1 that they might avoid debt2 and the rich that they might be justly generous4 99 99 99 99 99 ,ho6 for the flax-field1 with its flower of blue and leaf freshly green1-- ,ho6 for the snowy fleece1 which the quiet flock yield to their master1-- ,woman's hand shall transmute both1 into armor for those she loves1 ,wrapping her household in comfort1 and her own heart in calm content4 ,hark6 at her flaxen distaff cheerily singeth the matron1 ,hymns1 that perchance1 were mingled with her own cradle melodies4 ,back and forth1 at the ,great ,wheel1 treadeth the buxom damsel1 ,best form of calisthenics1 exercising well every muscle ,regularly and to good purpose1 filling the blue veins with richer blood4 ,rapidly on the spindle1 gather threads from the pendent roll1 ,not by machinery anatomized1 till stamina and staple fly away1 ,but with hand-cards concocted1 and symmetrically formed1 ,of wool1 white or grey1 or the refuse flax smoothed to a silky lustre1 ,it greeteth the fingers of the spinner4 ,in this ,hygeian concert ,leader of the ,orchestra1 was the ,great ,wheel's tireless tenor1 ,drowning the counter of the snapping reel1 and the quill-wheels fitful symphony1 ,whose whirring strings1 yielded to children's hands1 prepare spools for the shuttle4 ,at intervals1 like a muffled drum1 sounded the stroke of the loam1 ,cumbrous1 and filling a large space1 with its quantity of timber1 ,obedient only to a vigorous arm1 which in ruling it grew more vigorous4 ,from its massy beam were unrolled1 fabrics varied and substantial1 ,linen for couch and table1 and the lighter garniture of summer1 ,frocks of a flaxen color for the laborer1 or striped with blue for the younglings2 ,stout garments in which man bides the buffet of wintry elements4 ,from the rind of the stately butternut1 drew they a brown complexion1 ,or the cerulean borrowed from the tint of the southern indigo4 ,thus rustic ,industry girded itself1 amid household music1 ,as ,history of old1 set her fabulous legends to the harp4 ,ears trained to the operas of ,italy1 would find discordance to be mocked at1 ,but the patriot heard the ring of gold in the coffers of his country1 ,not sent forth to bankruptcy1 for the flowery silks of ,france2 ,while the listening christian caught the strong harmonies of a peaceful ,land1 ,giving praise to ,jehovah4 ,lo6 at the winter evening ,in these uncarpeted dwellings1 what a world of comfort6 ,large hickory logs send a dancing flame up the ample chimney1 ,tinging with ruddy gleam1 every face around the broad hearth-stone4 ,king and patriarch1 in the midst1 sitteth the true-hearted farmer4 ,at his side1 the wife with her needle1 still quietly regardeth the children4 ,sheltered in her corner-nook1 in the arm-chair1 the post of honor1 ,calm with the beauty of age1 is the venerable grandmother4 ,clustering around her1 watching the stocking that she knits1 are the little ones1 ,loving the stories that she tells of the days when she was a maiden1 ,stories ever mix'd with lessons of a reverent piety4 ,manna do they thus gather to feed on1 when their hair is hoary4 ,stretch'd before the fire1 is the weary1 rough-coated house-dog1 ,winking his eyes1 full of sleep1 at the baby1 seated on his shoulder1 ,proudly watching his master's darling1 and the pet of the family1 ,as hither and thither on its small feet it toddles unsteadily4 ,on the straight-back'd oaken settle1 congregate the older children4 ,work have they1 or books1 and sometimes the weekly newspaper1 ,grey1 on coarse1 crumpled paper1 and borrowed from house to house1 ,small-sized1 yet precious1 and read through from beginning to end1 ,bright1 young heads circling close1 peering together over its columns4 ,now and then1 furtive glances reconnoitre the ingle-side1 ,where before a bed of coals1 rows of red apples are roasting1 ,spitting out their life-juices spitefully1 in unwilling martyrdom4 ,finished1 and drawn back1 the happy group wait a brief interval1 ,thinking some neighbor might chance to come in and bid them good even1 ,heightening their simple refection1 for whose sake would be joyously added ,the mug of sparkling cider passed temperately from lip to lip1 ,sufficient and accepted offering of ancient1 true-hearted hospitality4 ,thus in colonial times dwelt they together as brethren1 ,taking part in each others' concerns with an undissembled sympathy4 ,but when the tall old clock told out boldly three times three1 ,thrice the number of the graces1 thrice the number of the fates1 ,the full number of the ,muses1 the hour dedicated to ,morpheus1 ,at that curfew departed the guest1 and all work being suspended1 ,laid aside was the grandmother's knitting-bag1 for in its cradle ,rock'd now and then by her foot1 already slumbered the baby4 ,then1 ere the fading brands were covered with protecting ashes1 ,rose the prayer of the ,sire1 amid his treasured and trusted ones1 ,rose his thanks for past blessings1 his petitions for the future1 ,his committal of all care to ,him who careth for his creatures1 ,overlooking nothing that ,his bountiful ,hand hath created4 ,orderly were the households of the farmer1 not given to idle merriment1 ,honoring the presence of parents1 as of tutelary spirits4 ,to be obedient and useful were the first lessons of the young children1 ,well learned and bringing happiness1 that ruled on sure foundations1 ,respect for authority1 being the initial of ,god's holy fear4 ,modern times might denounce such a system as tyrannical1 ,asking the blandishments of indulgence1 and a broader liberty2 ,leaving in perplexing doubt1 the mind of the infant stranger ,whether to rule or to be ruled he came hither on his untried journey1 ,rearing him in headstrong ignorance1 revolting at discipline1 ,heady1 high-minded1 and prone to speak evil of dignities4 ,welcome was ,winter1 to the agriculturist of olden times1 ,then1 while fruitful ,earth1 with whom he was in league1 held her sabbath1 ,knowledge entered into his soul4 ,at the lengthened evening1 ,read he in an audible voice to his listening family ,grave books of ,history1 or elaborate ,theology1 ,taxing thought and memory1 but not setting fancy on tiptoe ,teaching reverence for wise men1 and for ,god1 the ,giver of ,wisdom4 ,not then had the era arrived1 when of making books there is no end4 ,painfully the laboring press1 brought forth like the kingly whale ,one cub at a time1 guiding it carefully over the billows1 ,watching with pride and pleasure1 its own wonderful offspring4 ,a large1 fair volume1 was in those days1 as molten gold1 ,touched only with clean hands1 and by testators willed to their heirs4 99 99 99 99 99 ,winter also1 brought the school for the boys1--released from farm-labor4 ,early was the substantial breakfast1 in those short1 frosty mornings1 ,that equipped in season1 might be the caravan for its enterprise1 ,punctuality in those simple times being enrolled among the virtues4 ,there they go6 a rosy group1 bearing in small baskets their dinner2 ,plunging thro' all snow-drifts1 the boys1--on all ices sliding the girls1 ,yet leaving not the straight path1 lest tardy should be their arrival4 ,lone on the bleak hill-side1 stood the unpainted village school-house1 ,winds taking aim at it like a target1 smoke belching from its chimney1 ,bare to the fiery suns of summer1 like the treeless ,nantucket4 ,desks were ranged under the windows where on high benches without backs ,sate the little ones1 their feet vainly reaching toward the distant floor1 ,commanded everlastingly to keep still and to be still1 ,as if immobility were the climax of all excellence2 ,hard lesson for quick nerves1 and eyes searching for something new4 ,nature endowed them with curiosity1 but man wiser than she ,calling himself a teacher1 would fain stiffen them into statues4 ,no bright visions of the school-palaces of future days ,with seats of ease1 and carpets1 and pianos1 and pictured walls1 ,and green lawns1 pleasantly shaded1 stretching wide for play1 ,and knowledge fondling her pets1 and unveiling her royal road1 ,gleam'd before them as ,eden1 kindling smiles on their thoughtful faces4 ,favor'd were the elder scholars with more congenial tasks3 ,loudly read they in their classes1 glorying in the noise they made1 ,busily over the slates moved the hard pencils1 with a grating sound1 ,diligently on coarse paper wrote they1 with quill pens1 bushy topp'd1 ,blessed in having lived1 ere the metallic stylus was invented4 ,rang'd early around the fire1 have been their frozen inkstands1 ,where in rotation sits each scholar briefly1 by the master's leave1 ,roasting on one side1 and on the other a petrefaction1 ,keen blasts through the crevices delighting to whistle and mock them4 ,patient were the children1 not given to murmuring or complaining1 ,learning through privation1 lessons of value for a future life1 ,subjection1 application1 and love of knowledge for itself alone4 ,on a high chair1 sate the solemn ,master1 watchful of all things1 ,absolute was his sway and in this authority he gloried1 ,conforming it much to the ,spartan rule1 and the code of ,solomon1 ,showing no mercy to idleness1 or wrong uses of the slippery tongue3 ,yet to diligent students kind1 and of their proficiency boastful1 ,exhibiting their copy-books1 to committee-man and visitant1 ,or calling out the declaimers1 in some stentorian dialogue4 ,few were the studies then pursued1 but thoroughness required in all1 ,surface-work not being in vogue1 nor rootless blossoms regarded4 ,especially well-taught was the orthography of our copious language1 ,false spelling being as a sin to be punished by the judges4 ,in this difficult attainment the master sometimes accorded ,a form of friendly conflict sought with ardor as a premium1 ,stirring the belligerent element1 ever strong in boyish natures4 ,forth came at close of the school-day1 two of reproachless conduct1 ,naming first the best spellers1 they proceeded to choose alternately1 ,till all1 old and young1 ranging under opposite banners1 ,drawn up as in battle array1 each other stoutly confronted4 ,rapidly given out by the leaders to their marshall'd forces1 ,word by word1 with its definition1 was the allotted lesson1 ,vociferously answered from each side like discharges of artillery2 ,fatal was the slightest mistake1 fatal even pause or hesitation1 ,doubt was for the vanquished1 to deliberate was to be lost4 ,drooping with disgrace down sate each discomfited pupil1 ,bravely stood the perfect1 the most unbroken line gaining the victory4 ,not unboastful were the conquerers1 cheered with shouts on their homeward way1 ,crest-fallen were the defeated1 yet eager for a future contest4 ,strong elements thus enlisted1 gave new vigor to mental toil1 ,as the swimmer puts forth more force till the rapids are overpast4 ,dear to the persevering1 were those schools of the olden time1 ,respected were the teachers1 who with majestic austerity1 ,dispensed without favoritism1 a ,lacedamonian justice4 ,learning was not then loved for luxury1 like a lady for her gold1 ,but testing her worshippers by trial1 knew who sought her for herself4 99 99 99 99 99 ,not given to frequent feasting was the home-bred farmer of ,new ,england1 ,parties1 and the popular lectures swelled not his code of enjoyments4 ,one banquet1 climax of his convivial delight1 was the yearly thanksgiving1 ,substituted by puritan settlers for the ,christmas of the ,mother-,clime1 ,keeping in memory the feast of ingathering1 of the ,ancient ,covenant ,people2 ,drear ,november was its appointed season1 when earth's bounty being garnered1 ,man might rest from his labors1 and praise the ,lord of the ,harvest4 ,such was its original design1 but the tendencies of ,saxonism1 ,turn'd it more to eating and drinking1 than devotional remembrance4 ,yet blessed was the time1 summoning homeward every wanderer3 ,back came the city apprentice1 and from her service place the damsel1 ,back came the married daughter to the father's quiet hearth-stone1 ,wrapped warmly in her cloak is a babe1 its eyes full of wonder1-- ,hand in hand1 walked the little ones1 bowing low before the grandparents1 ,meekly craving their blessing1 for so had they been piously taught4 ,back to the birth-spot1 to the shadow of their trees ancestral1 ,came they like joyous streams1 to their first untroubled fountain1 ,knowing better how to prize it1 from the rocks that had barred their course4 ,in primitive guise1 journeyed homeward those dispersed ones4 ,rare1 in these days1 was the carriage1 or stage-coach for the traveller2 ,roads1 unmacadamized1 making rude havoc of delicate springs4 ,around the door1 horses gather with the antique side-saddle and pillion1 ,led thence to the full barn1 while their riders find heartfelt welcome4 ,then all whom culinary cares release1 hasten to the ,house of ,worship1 ,religion being invoked to sanction the rejoicing of the fathers4 ,plain was the village-church1 a structure of darkened wood1 ,having doors on three sides1 and flanked by sheds for the horses1 ,guiltless of blackening stove-pipe1 or the smouldering fires of the furnace4 ,assaulted oft were its windows1 by the sonorous ,north-,western1 ,making organ-pipes in the forest1 for its shrill improvisations ,patient of cold1 sate the people1 each household in its own square pew1 ,palisaded above the heads of the children1 imprisoning their roving eyes4 ,patiently sate the people1 while from 'neath the great sounding-board1 ,the preacher unfolded his sermon1 like the many-headed cauliflower4 ,grave was the good pastor1 not prone to pamper animal appetites1 ,but mainly intent to deal with that which is immortal4 ,prolix might he have been deemed1 save by the flock he guided1 ,who duteously accounted him but a little lower than the angels4 ,as solemn music to the sound of his monotonous periods ,listened attentively the young1 until he slowly enunciated ,fifteenthly1 in the division of his elaborate discourse4 ,then gadded away their busy thoughts to the ,thanksgiving dinner1 ,visioning good things to come4 ,at length1 around the table1 ,duly bless'd by the ,master of the feast1 they cheerily assemble4 ,before him1 as his perquisite1 and prerogative to carve4 ,in a lordly dish smokes the huge1 well-browned ,turkey1 ,chickens were there1 to whose innocent lives ,thanksgiving is ever a death-knell2 ,luscious roasters from the pen1 the large ham of a red complexion1 ,garnish'd and intermingled with varied forms of vegetable wealth4 ,ample pasties were attached1 and demolished with dexterity1 ,custards and tarts1 and compounds of the golden-faced pumpkin1 ,prime favorite1 without whose aid1 scarcely could ,new ,england have been thankful4 ,apples1 with plump1 waxen cheeks1 chestnuts1 and the fruit of the hickory1 ,bisected neatly1 without fragment1 furnished the simple dessert1 ,finale to that festival where each guest might be safely merry4 ,hence1 by happy-hearted children1 was it hailed as the pole-star1 ,toward which ,memory looked backward six months1 and ,hope forward for six to come1 ,dating reverently from its era1 as the ,moslem from his ,hegira4 ,hymen also hailed it as his revenue1 and crowning time2 ,bachelors wearied with the restraints that courtship imposes1 ,longed for it1 as the ,israelite for the jubilee of release1 ,and many a householder1 in his family-bible marked its date ,as the day of his espousals1 and of the gladness of his heart4 99 99 99 99 99 ,content was the life of agriculture1 in unison with that wisest prayer ,thy will be done4 ,wisest1 because who1 save the ,eternal ,knoweth what is best for man1 walking ignorantly among shadows1 ,himself a shadow1 not like ,adam our father in ,paradise1 ,rightly naming all things1 but calling evil1 good1 and good1 evil1 ,blindly blaming the discipline that might bless him ever-lastingly1 ,and embracing desires1 that in their bosom hide the dagger of ,ehud4 ,asketh he for honor8 ,in its train are envyings and cares2 ,wealth8 ,it may drown the soul in destruction and perdition2 ,power8 ,lo6 it casteth on some lone ,st4 ,helena to die3 ,surely1 safest of all petitions1 is that of our blessed ,saviour1-- ,not my will hut ,thine4 99 99 99 99 99 ,thus1 as it was in the days before us1 ,rural life in ,new-,england1 with its thrift1 and simplicity1 ,minutely have ,i depicted1 not emulous of embellishment4 ,more of refinement might it boast when our beautiful birth-clime1 ,from the colonial chrysalis emerging1 spread her wing among the nations4 ,then rose an aristocracy1 founded not on wealth alone ,that winds may scatter like desert sands1 or the floods wash away1 ,but on the rock of solid virtue1 where securely anchors the soul4 99 99 99 99 99 ,mid its cultured acres rose gracefully a dwelling of the better class1 ,large1 but not lofty1 its white walls softened by surrounding shades1 ,fresh turf at its feet like velvet1 green boughs bannering its head1 ,bannering1 and dropping music1 till the last rustle of the falling leaves4 ,there1 still in her comely prime1 dwelt the lady of the mansion4 ,moderate would her fortune be held in these days that count by millions1 ,yet rich was she1 because having no debts1 what seemed to be hers1 was so2 ,rich1 in having a surplus for the poor1 which she gladly imparted2 ,rich too1 through ,agriculture1 pursued less from need than habit4 ,habit mingled with satisfaction1 and bringing health in its train4 ,early widowhood had touched her brow with sadness such as time bringeth1 ,yet in her clear eye was a fortitude1 surmounting adversity4 ,busy were her maidens1 and happy1 their right conduct kindly approved1 ,busy also the swains thro' whose toil her fields yielded increase1 ,respect had she for labor2 knowing both what to require1 and when it was well performed1 ,readily rendering full wages1 with smiles and words of counsel1 ,accounting those who served her1 friends1 entitled to advice and sympathy4 ,thus1 looking well to the ways of her household1 and from each expecting their duty1 ,wisely divided she her time1 and at intervals of leisure1 ,books allured her cultured mind through realms of thought and knowledge4 99 99 99 99 99 ,but the deepest well-spring of her joys1 not yet hath been unfolded1 ,a fountain where care and sorrow forgot both their name and nature4 ,two little daughters1 like olive plants1 grew beside that fountain1 ,one1 with dark1 deepset eyes1 and wealth of raven tresses1 ,the other gleaming as a sunbeam1 through her veil of golden hair1 ,with a glance like living sapphire1 making the beholder glad4 ,clinging to the sweet mother's hand1 smiling when she smiled1 ,if she were sad1 grieving also1 they were her blessed comforters1 ,morn and ,even were they styled by admiring1 fanciful visitants1 ,so the evening and the morning1 were to her soul the first day1 ,after the heavy midnight of her weeping and widowhood4 ,side by side1 in sweet liberty hither and thither roamed those little ones1 ,hunting violets on the bank1 tasting cheese curds in the dairy1 ,seeking red and white strawberries1 as ripening they ran in the garden beds1 ,to fill the small basket for their mother1 covering the fruit with rose-buds1 ,peering archly to see if she would discover what was lurking beneath4 ,gamboling with the lambs1 shouting as the nest-builders darted by1 ,sharing in the innocence of one1 and catching song from the other4 ,nighty on the same snowy pillow1 were laid their beautiful heads1 ,the same morning beam kiss'd away their lingering slumbers1 ,the first object that met their waking eye1 was the bright1 sisterly smile4 ,one impulse moved both hearts1 as kneeling by their little bed1 ,breathed forth from ruby lips1 ,our ,father1 who art in ,heaven6 ,simple homage1 meekly blending in a blessed stream of incense4 ,forth went they among the wild flowers1 making friendship with the dragon-fly1 ,with the ant in her circling citadel1 with the spider at her silk-loom1 ,talking to the babbling brook1 speaking kindly to the uncouth terrapin1 ,and frog1 who to them seem'd dancing joyously in watery halls4 ,like the chirping of the wood-robin murmured their tuneful voices1 ,or rang out in merry laughter1 gladdening the ear of the ,mother1 ,who when she heard it afar off1 laughed also1 not knowing wherefore4 ,thus1 in companionship with ,nature1 dwelt they1 growing each day more happy1 ,loving all things that she cherish'd1 and loved by her in return4 ,yet not idly pass'd their childhood1 in ,new ,england's creed that were heresy1 ,promptly1 as strength permitted1 followed they examples of industry1 ,lovingly assisting the ,mother wherever her work might be4 ,surprising was it to see what their small hands could accomplish1 ,without trespassing on the joy of childhood1 that precious birthright of life4 ,diligently wrought they in summer1 at the dame's school with plodding needle1 ,docile at their lessons in winter1 stood they before the ,master3 ,yet learning most from ,home and ,mother1 those schools for the heart1 ,befitting best that sex1 whose sphere of action is in the heart4 ,attentive were they to the ,parents' rule1 and to the open book of ,nature1 ,teachers1 whose faithful pupils shall be wise towards ,god4 99 99 99 99 99 ,different were the two daughters1 though to the same discipline subjected4 ,grave was the elder born and thoughtful1 even beyond her years1 ,night upon her tresses1 but the star of morning in her heart4 ,exceeding fair was the younger1 and witty1 and full of grace1 ,winning with her sunny ringlets1 the notice of all beholders4 ,different also were their temperaments1 one loving like the ,violet ,shaded turf1 where the light falls subdued through sheltering branches1 ,the other1 as the ,tulip1 exulting in the lustrous noontide1 ,and the prerogatives of beauty1 to see1 and to be seen4 ,sweet was it to behold them1 when the sun grew low in summer1 ,riding gracefully through the green-wood1 each on her ambling palfrey1 ,one1 white as milk1 and the other like shining ebony1 ,for so in fanciful love had the ,mother selected for her darlings4 ,sweet was it to mark them1 side by side1 in careless beauty1 ,looking earnestly in each others' faces1 thought playfully touching thought4 99 99 99 99 99 ,chief speaker was ,miranda1 ever fearless and most fluent4 ,tired am ,i of always seeing the same dull1 old scenes4 ,i wish the rail-fences would tumble down1 and the sprawling apple-trees1-- ,and the brown farm-houses take unto themselves wings and fly away1 ,like the wild-geese in autumn1 if only something might be new4 ,there's the ,miller forever standing on that one same spot of ground1 ,watching his spouting wheel1 when there's water1 and when there is none1 ,grumbling1 ,i suppose1 at home1 to his spiritless wife and daughters4 ,i like not that fusty old ,miller1 his coat covered with meal1 ,ever tugging at bags1 and shoveling corn into the hopper4 ,discreetly answer'd ,bertha1 and the lively one responded1 ,lively1 and quick-sighted1 yet prone to be restless and unsatisfied1 ,counting rain-drops as they fall1 one by one1 from sullen branches4 ,seeing silly lambkins leap1 and the fan-tail'd squirrels scamper1 ,what are such things to me8 ,stupid ,agriculture ,i like not1 ,soap-making1 and the science of cheese-tubs1 what are they to me8 ,the chief end of life with these hinds and hindesses1 ,is methinks1 to belabor their hands1 till they harden like brick-bats4 99 99 99 99 99 ,look1 look1 ,miranda1 dearest6 ,the new moon sweetly rising ,holdeth forth her silver crescent1 which the loyal stars perceiving1 ,gather gladly to her banner1 like a host around their sovereign4 ,let us find the constellations that our good ,instructor taught us4 ,remember you not yesterday1 when our lesson was well-render'd1 ,how with unwonted flattery he call'd us his ,hesperus and ,aurora8 99 99 99 99 99 ,these hum-drum teachings tire me1 ,i'm disgusted with reciting ,and repeating1 day by day1 what ,i knew well enough before4 ,then quickening briskly her startled steed with the riding-whip1 ,she darted onward through the forest1 reaching first their own abode4 ,at night1 when they retired1 ere the waning lamp was extinguished1 ,that good time for talking1 when heart to heart discloseth ,what the work or the pride of day1 might in secrecy have shrouded1 ,said ,miranda1 ,i have seen our early play-mate1 ,emilia1 ,from a boarding-school return'd1 all accomplished1 all delightful1 ,so changed1 so improved1 her best friends might scarcely know her4 ,why might not ,i be favor'd with similar advantages8 ,caged here1 year by year1 with wings beating the prison-door2 ,i would fain go where she went4 ,if overruled ,i shall be wretched4 ,i must go1 ,bertha1 yes6 ,no obstacle shall withhold me4 99 99 99 99 99 ,oh ,miranda6 ,our ,mother6 ,in your company is her solace4 ,in your young life she liveth1 at your bright smile1 ever smileth1 ,such power have you to cheer her4 ,what could she do without you ,when the lengthen'd eve grows lonely1 and the widow sorrow presseth8 ,oh persuade her6 she cried1 with an embrace of passionate fervor1 ,persuade her1 ,bertha6 and ,i'll be your bond-servant forever4 99 99 99 99 99 ,seldom had a differing purpose ruffled long those sisterly bosoms4 ,wakeful lay ,bertha1 the silent tear for her companion1 ,while frequent sighs swelling and heaving the snowy breast of ,miranda1 ,betray'd that troubled visions held her spirit in their custody4 99 99 99 99 99 ,like twin streamlets had they been1 from one quiet fountain flowing1 ,stealing on through fringed margins1 anon playfully diverging1 ,yet to each other as they wander'd1 sending messages through whispering reeds1 ,then returning and entwining joyously1 with their cool chrystalline arms4 99 99 99 99 99 ,but who that from their source marketh infant brooklets issue1 ,like sparkling threads of silver1 wending onward through the distance ,can foretell which will hold placid course among the vallies1 ,content with silent blessings from the fertile soil it cheereth1 ,or which1 mid rocky channels contending and complaining1 ,now exulting in brief victory1 then in darken'd eddies creeping1 ,leaps its rampart and is broken on the wheel of the cataract4 99 99 99 99 99 ,generous is the love and holy that springeth from gratitude2 ,rooting not in blind instinct1 grasping not1 exacting not1 ,remembering the harvest on which it fed1 and the toil of the harvester2 ,fain would it render recompense according to what it hath received1 ,or falling short1 weepeth4 ,as the leaf of the white ,lily ,bendeth backward to the stalk whence its young bud drew nutrition1 ,so turneth the ,love of ,gratitude1 with eye undimm'd and fervent1 ,to parent1 friend1 teacher1 benefactor1 bountiful ,creator4 ,sympathies derived from such sources ever sacredly cherishing2 ,daughter of ,memory1 inheriting her mother's immortality1 ,welcome shall she find among angels1 where selfish love may not enter4 ,,canto ,,second4 ,in the gay and crowded city ,where the tall and jostling roof-trees ,jealous seem of one another1 ,jealous of the ground they stand on1 ,each one thrusting out its neighbor ,from the sunrise1 or the sunset1 ,in a boarding school of fashion ,was ,miranda comprehended1 ,goal of her supreme ambition4 --,girls were there from different regions1 ,distant ,states1 and varying costumes1 ,she was beautiful they told her1 ,and her mirror when she sought it ,gave concurrent testimony4 --,many teachers met their classes ,in this favorite ,institution ,where accomplishments or studies ,were pursued as each selected1 ,or their parents gave commandment4 ,but ,miranda was impeded ,in successful application1 ,by the consciousness of beauty ,and the vanity it fosters4 --,very fond was she of walking ,in the most frequented places1 ,fondly fancying all beholders ,gazed on her with admiration4 ,striking dresses1 gay with colors ,she disported and commended1 ,not considering that the highest ,of attractions in a woman ,is simplicity of costume1 ,and a self-forgetful sweetness4 --,men with business over-laden1 ,men of science1 pondering axioms1 ,men of letters1 lost in reverie1 ,she imagined when they passed her ,gaz'd with secret admiration1 ,ask'd in wonder1 who can that be8 ,backward turned perchance1 to view her1 ,as she lightly glided onward4 --,so completely had this beauty ,leagued with vanity1 uprooted ,serious thought and useful purpose1 ,and the nobler ends of being1 ,that even in the solemn ,temple ,where humility befitteth ,all who offer adoration1 ,close observance of the apparel ,of acquaintances or strangers1 ,and a self-display intruded ,on the service of devotion1 ,while her fair cheek oft-times rested ,daintily on gloveless fingers ,where the radiant jewels sparkled ,on a hand like sculptured marble4 99 99 99 99 99 ,meantime in the rural mansion ,whence with gladness she departed1 ,sate the mother and the sister ,by the hearth-stone or the lamp-light1 ,thinking of their loved ,miranda1 ,speaking of her1 working for her1 ,writing tender1 earnest letters ,to sustain her mid her studies1 ,fearing that her health might suffer ,by the labor and privation ,that a year at school demanded4 --,as the autumnal evenings lengthen'd1 ,bertha with a filial sweetness ,sought her mother's favorite authors1 ,and with perfect elocution ,made their sentiments and feelings1 ,guests around the quiet fireside4 --,page of ,livy1 or of ,csar1 ,stirring scenes of tuneful ,maro1 ,from their native1 stately numbers ,to the mother's ear she rendered2 ,or with her o'er ancient regions1 ,fallen sphynx1 or ruin'd column1 ,led by guiding ,rollin1 wandered1 ,deeply mused with saintly ,sherlock1 ,or through ,milton's inspiration ,scanned the lore of forfeit ,eden4 99 99 99 99 99 ,with the vertic rays of ,summer ,homeward came the fair ,miranda4 ,how the village people wonder'd ,at her fashions1 and her movements1 ,how she made the new piano ,tremble to its inmost centre ,with andante1 and bravura1 ,what a piece she had to show them ,of ,andromache the ,trojan1 ,wrought in silks of every color1 ,and 'twas said a foreign language ,such as princes use in ,paris1 ,she could speak to admiration4 --,greatly their surprise amused her1 ,but the ,mother and the ,sister ,with their eagle-eyed affection1 ,spied a thorn amid the garland1 ,heard the sighing on her pillow1 ,saw the flush invade her forehead1 ,and were sure some secret sorrow ,rankled in that snowy bosom4 99 99 99 99 99 ,rumor1 soon with hundred voices ,whisper'd of a dashing lover1 ,irreligious and immoral1 ,and the anxious ,mother counsel'd ,sad of heart her fair-hair'd daughter4 --,scarce with any show of reverence ,listen'd the impatient maiden1 ,then with tearless eyes wide open ,like full orbs of shadeless sapphire ,all unpausing1 thus responded4 --,i have promised ,aldebaran1 ,to be his1--alone1--forever6 ,and ,i'll keep that promise1 ,mother1 ,though the firm skies fall around me1 ,and yon stars in fragments shatter'd1 ,each with thousand voices warn'd me4 --,thou hast spoken words reproachful1 ,doubting of his soul's salvation1 ,of his creed ,i never question'd1 ,but where'er he goes1 ,i follow4 ,whatsoe'er his lot1 ,i'll share it1 ,though it were the darkest chamber ,in the lowest hell4 ',twere better ,there with him1 than 'mid the carols ,of the highest heaven1 without him4 ,swan-like arms were wrapped around her ,with a cry of better pleading1 ,oh ,miranda6--,oh my ,sister6 ,gather back the words you've spoken1 ,quickly1 ere the angel write them ,weeping on the doom's day tablet4 --,you have grieved our blessed ,mother3 ,see you not the large tears trickle ,down those channels deeply furrow'd ,which the widow-anguish open'd8 ,kneel beside me1 ,oh my ,sister6 ,darling of my cradle slumbers1 ,ask the grace of ,god to cleanse thee ,from thy blasphemy and blindness1 ,supplicate the ,great ,enlightener ,here to purge away thy madness1 ,pray our ,saviour to forgive thee4 99 99 99 99 99 ,bertha6 ,bertha6 speak not to me1 ,what knowest thou of love almighty8 ,naught except that craven spirit ,measuring1 weighing1 calculating1 ,that goes shivering to its bridal4 ,on this deathless soul1 all hazard ,here ,i take1 and if it perish1 ,let it perish4 ,from the socket ,this right eye ,i'd pluck1 extinguish ,this right hand1 if he desire it1 ,and go maim'd through all the ages ,that ,eternity can number4 --,prayer is not for me1 but action1 ,against thee1 and ,her who bare me ,stand ,i at ,love's bidding1 boldly ,in the armor that he giveth1 ,for life's battle1 strong and ready4 --,hush6 ,i've sworn1 and ,i'll confirm it4 99 99 99 99 99 ,in due time1 the handsome suitor ,paid his devoirs to ,miranda1 ,in her own paternal dwelling4 ,very exquisite in costume1 ,very confident in manner1 ,pompous1 city-bred1 and fearless ,was the accepted ,aldebaran4 --,axious felt she1 lest the customs ,of the rustic race around her1 ,so she styled her rural neighbors1 ,might discourage or disgust him1 ,but he gave them no attention1 ,quite absorbed in other matters4 --,in their promenades together ,she beheld the people watching ,mid their toils of agriculture1 ,saw them gaze from door and windows1 ,little ones from gates and fences1 ,on the stylish ,alderbaran1 ,and her heart leap'd up exulting4 --,notice took he of the homestead1 ,with an eye of speculation1 ,ask'd the number of its acres1 ,and what revenue they yielded4 ,notice took of herds and buildings ,with their usufruct1 and value1 ,closer note than seem'd consistent ,with his delicate position2 ,but ,miranda1 ,cupid blinded1 ,no venality detected4 --,he1 in gorgeous phrase address'd her1 ,with an oriental worship1 ,as some goddess condescending ,to an intercourse with mortals4 ,pleas'd was she with such observance1 ,pleas'd and proud that those around her ,should perceive what adoration ,was to her1 by him accorded4 --,when he left1 'twas with the assurance ,the next visit should be final4 ,marking on his silver tablet ,with gay hand1 the day appointed ,when he might return to claim her ,in the nuptial celebration4 99 99 99 99 99 ,there's a bridal in the spring-time1 ,when the bee from wintry covert ,talking to the unsheath'd blossoms1 ,meditates unbounded plunder1 ,and the bird mid woven branches ,brooding o'er her future treasures ,harkeneth thrilling to the love-song ,of her mate1 who nestward tendeth4 --,there's a bridal in the spring-time1 ,and the beautiful ,miranda ,through her veil of silvery tissue ,gleams1 more beautiful than ever4 ,from the hearth-stone of her fathers1 ,with the deathless love of woman ,trusting all for earth or heaven ,to a mortal's rule and guidance1 ,one1 but short time since1 a stranger1 ,forth she goes4 ,the young beholders ,gazing on the handsome bridegroom1 ,gazing on the nuptial carriage1 ,where the milk-white horses sported ,knots of evergreen and myrtle1 ,felt a pleasure mix'd with envy ,at a happiness so perfect4 --,but more thoughtful ones1 instructed ,by the change of time and sorrow1 ,by the cloud and by the sunbeam1 ,felt the hazard that attended ,such intrustment without limit1 ,vows that none had right to cancel ,save the hand of ,death's dark ,angel4 99 99 99 99 99 ,of the sadness left behind her ,in the mansion whence she parted1 ,loneliness1 and bitter heart-ache1 ,deep1 unutter'd apprehension1 ,fearful looking for of judgment1 ,it were vain in lays so feeble ,to attempt a true recital4 --,still1 to ,mother and to ,sister ,came epistles from ,miranda1 ,essenc'd and genteelly written1 ,painting happiness so perfect1 ,so transcending expectation1 ,so surpassing all that fancy ,in her wildest flights had pencil'd1 ,that even ,eden ere the tempter ,coil'd himself amid the blossoms ,fail'd to furnish fitting symbol4 99 99 99 99 99 ,heartfelt bliss is never boastful1 ,like the holy dew it stealeth ,to the bosom of the violet1 ,only told by deeper fragrance4 --,he who saith ,see6 see6 ,i'm happy8 ,happier than all else around me1 ,leaves1 perchance1 a doubt behind him ,whether he hath comprehended ,what true happiness implieth4 99 99 99 99 99 ,oh1 the storm-cloud and the tempest6 ,oh1 the dreary night of winter6 ,drifting snows1 and winds careering ,down the tall1 wide-throated chimney1 ,like the shrieking ghosts from ,hades4 ,shrieking ghosts of buried legions4 --,mother6 hear ,i not the wailing ,of a human voice8 ,my daughter6 ',tis the blast that rends the pine-trees4 ,the old sentry-,oak is broken1 ,close beside our chamber-window1 ,and its branches all are moaning4 ',tis their grief you hear1 my daughter4 99 99 99 99 99 ,but the maiden's car was quicken'd ,to all plaint of mortal sorrow1 ,and when next1 the bitter north wind ,lull'd1 to gather strength and vigor1 ,for a new exacerbation1 ,listening close1 she caught the murmur1 ,hush mein daughter6 hush mein baby4 ,then she threw the door wide open1 ,though the storm rush'd in upon her1 ,with its blinding sleet and fury4 ,what beheld she1 near the threshold1 ,prostrate there beside the threshold1 ,but a woman1 to whose bosom ,clung a young and sobbing infant8 --,oh the searching look that kindled ',neath those drooping1 straining eye-lids1 ,searching mid the blast and darkness1 ,for some helper in her anguish1 ,searching1 kindling look1 that settled ,into heavy1 deadly slumber1 ,as the waning taper flashes ,once1 to be relumin'd never4 ,still her weak arm clasp'd the baby1 ,rais'd its pining1 pinching features1 ,faintly cried1 ,mein kind6 ,have pity1 ,pity1 for the love of ,jesus6 --,yes1 forlorn1 benighted wanderer1 ,thy poor1 failing feet have brought thee ,where the love of ,jesus dwelleth4 ,gently in a bed they laid her1 ,chafed her stiffening limbs and temples1 ,pour'd the warm1 life-giving cordial1 ,but what seem'd the most to cheer her1 ,were some words by ,bertha spoken ,in her own1 dear native language4 ,voice of ,fatherland6 it quicken'd ,all the heart's collapsing heart-strings1 ,as though bath'd1 and renovated ,in the ,rhine's blue1 rushing waters4 99 99 99 99 99 ,o'er the wildering waste of ocean1 ,moved by zeal of emigration ,she had ventured with her husband ,to this western ,world of promise1 ,rainbow-vested ,el-,dorado4 ,on that dreary waste of waters ,he had died1 and left her mourning1 ,all unguided1 unbefriended4 --,there the mother-sorrow found her ,and compell'd her by the weeping ,of the new-born1 to encounter ,with a broken-hearted welcome ,life once more1 which in the torrent of her utter desolation ,she had cast aside1 contemning ,as a burden past endurance4 --,outcast in this land of strangers1 ,strange of speech1 and strange in manner1 ,she had travel'd1 worn and weary1 ,here and there1 with none to aid her1 ,ask'd for work1 and none employ'd her1 ,ask'd for alms1 and few reliev'd her1 ,till at length1 the wintry tempest ,smote her near that blessed roof-tree4 99 99 99 99 99 ,heavy slumber weigh'd her downward1 ,slumber from whence none awaketh4 ,yet at morn they heard her sighing1 ,on her pillow faintly sighing1 ,i am ready6 ,i am ready6 ,leonore6 my child6 my darling6 ,then they brought the infant to her1 ,cleanly robed1 and sweetly smiling1 ,and the parting soul turn'd backward1 ,and the clay-seal on the eyelids ,lifted up to gaze upon it4 ,bertha kiss'd the little forehead1 ,said mein kind1 and lo6 a shudder ,of this earth's forgotten pleasure ,trembled o'er the dying woman1 ,and the white hand cold as marble ,strove to raise itself in blessing1 ,for the mother-joy was stronger ,that one moment1 while it wrestled ,with the pausing king of terrors1 ,stronger than the king of terrors4 ,then they laid her icy fingers ,mid the infant's budding ringlets1 ,and the pang and grasp subsided ,in a smile and whispering cadence1 ,god1 mein ,god1 be praised6--and silence ,settled on those lips forever4 99 99 99 99 99 ,favor'd is the habitation ,where a gentle infant dwelleth1 ,when its brightening eye revealeth ,the immortal part within it1 ,and its curious wonder scanneth ,all its wide spread1 tiny fingers1 ,and its velvet hand caressing ,pats the nurse's cheek and bosom1 ,hoary ,age grows young before it1 ,as the branch that ,winter blighted ,at the touch of ,spring reviveth4 ,when its healthful form evolveth1 ,and with quadrupedal pleasure ,creeping o'er the nursery carpet1 ,aiming still1 its flowery surface ,with faint snatches to appropriate1 ,or the bolder art essaying ,on its two round feet to balance ,and propel the swaying body ,as with outstretch'd arms it hastens ,tottering toward the best beloved1 ,hope1 her freshest garland weaveth ,glittering with the dews of morning4 ,when the lisping tongue adventures ,the first tones of imitation1 ,or with magic speed o'ermasters ,the philosophy of language ,twining round the mind of others1 ,preferences1 and pains and pleasures1 ,tendrils strong1 of sentient being1 ,seeking kindness and indulgence1 ,loving sports and smiles1 and gladness1 ,tenderest love goes forth to meet it1 ,love that every care repayeth4 99 99 99 99 99 ,thus the little ,german exile ,leaning on her foster parents ,brought a love that soothed and cheer'd them1 ,and with sweet confiding meekness ,taught to older ones the lesson ,of the perfect trust1 we children ,of ,one ,great ,almighty ,parent ,should repose in ,his protection ,goodness and unerring wisdom3 ,though ,his discipline mysterious ,oft transcendeth feeble reason1 ,and perchance overthrows the fabrics ,that in arrogance we builded1 ,call'd our own1 and vainly rented ,to a troop of hopes and fancies1 ,gay-robed joys1 or fond affections4 99 99 99 99 99 ',tis a solemn thing and lovely1 ,to adopt a child1 whose mother ,dwelleth in the land of spirits3 ,in its weakness give it succor1 ,be in ignorance its teacher1 ,in all sorrow its consoler1 ,in temptation its defender1 ,save what else had been forsaken1 ,win for it a crown in ,heaven1-- ,tis a solemn thing and lovely1 ,such a work as ,god approveth4 99 99 99 99 99 ,blessed are the souls that nurture ,with paternal care the orphan1 ,neath their roof-tree lending shelter1 ,at their table breathing welcome1 ,giving armor for the journey ,and the warfare that awaiteth ,every pilgrim1 born of woman1 ,blessed1 for the grateful prayer ,riseth unto ,him who heareth ,the lone sigh of the forsaken1 ,bendeth1 mid the song of seraphs1 ,to the crying of the ravens1 ,from whose nest the brooding pinion ,by the archer's shaft was sever'd4 99 99 99 99 99 ,pomp and wealth1 and pride of office ,with their glitter and their shouting1 ,may not pass through death's dark valley1 ,may not thrill the ear that resteth ,mid the silence of the grave-yard2 ,but the deed that wrought in pity ,mid the outcast and benighted1 ,in the hovel or the prison1 ,on the land or on the ocean1 ,shunning still the applause of mortals1 ,comes it not to ,his remembrance ,who shall say amid the terrors ,of the last ,great ,day of ,judgment1 ,inasmuch as ye have done it ,unto one1 the least1 the lowest4 ,it was done to ,me1 your ,saviour4 ,,canto ,,third4 ,i'll change my measure1 and so end my lay1 ,too long already4 ,i can't manage well ,the metre of that master of the lyre1 ,who ,hiawatha1 and our forest tribes ,deftly described4 ,hexameters1 ,i hate1 ,and henceforth do eschew their company1 ,for what is written irksomely1 will be ,read in like manner4 ,what did ,i say last ,in my late canto8 ,something1 ,i believe ,of gratitude4 ,now this same gratitude ,is a fine word to play on4 ,many a niche ,it fills in letters1 and in billet-doux1-- ,its adjective a graceful prefix makes ,to a well-written signature4 ,it gleams ,a happy mirage in a sunny brain2 ,but as a principle1 is oft1 ,i fear1 ,inoperative4 ,some satirist hath said ,that gratitude is only a keen sense ,of future favors4 ,as regards myself1 ,tis my misfortune1 and perhaps1 my fault1 ,yet ,i'm constrain'd to say1 that where my gifts ,and efforts have been greatest1 the return ,has been in contrast4 ,so that ,i have shrunk ,to grant myself the pleasure of great love ,lest its reward might be indifference1 ,or smooth deceit4 ,others no doubt have been ,more fortunate4 ,i trust 'tis often so3 ,but this is my experience1 on the scale ,of three times twenty years1 and somewhat more4 99 99 99 99 99 ,in that calm happiness which ,virtue gives1 ,blent with the daily zeal of doing good1 ,mother and daughter dwelt4 ,once1 as they came ,from their kind visit to a child of need1 ,cheered by her blessings1--at their home they found ,miranda and her son4 ,with rapid speech1 ,and strong emotion that resisted tears ,her tale she told4 ,forsaken were they both1 ,by faithless sire and husband4 ,he had gone ,to parts unknown1 with an abandon'd one ,he long had follow'd4 ,brokenly she spake ,of taunts and wrongs long suffer'd and conceal'd ,with woman's pride4 ,then bitterly she pour'd ,her curses on his head4 ,with shuddering tears ,they press'd her to their hearts4 ,come back6 ,come back6 ,to your first home1 and ,heaven's compassions heal ,your wounded spirit4 ,lovingly they cast ,their mantle o'er her1 striving to uplift ,her thoughts to heavenly sources1 and allure ,to deeds of charity1 that draw the sting ,from selfishness of sorrow4 ,but she shrank ,from social intercourse1 nor took her seat ,even in the ,house of ,god1 lest prying eyes ,should gloat upon her downfall4 ,books1 nor work ,enticed her1 and the lov'd piano's tone ,waking sad echoes of the days that were1 ,she seem'd to shun4 ,her joy was in her child4 ,the chief delight and solace of her life ,to adorn his dress1 and trim his shining curls1 ,dote on his beauty1 and conceal his faults1 ,with weak indulgence4 ,oh1 ,miranda1 love6 ,teach your fair boy1 obedience4 ',tis the first ,lesson of life4 ,to him1 you fill the place ,of that ,great ,teacher who doth will us all ,to learn submission4 ,but ,miranda will'd ,in her own private mind1 not to adopt ,such old-world theories1 deeming the creed ,of the grey-headed ,mother1 obsolete4 --,her boy was fair2 but in those manners fail'd ,that render beauty pleasing4 ,great regard ,had he for self1 and play1 and dainty food1 ,unlike those ,jewish children1 who refused ,the fare luxurious of ,chaldea's king1 ,and on their simple diet grow more fair ,and healthful than their mates1 and wiser too1 ,than the wise men of ,babylon4 ,i've seen ,ill-fortune follow those1 whose early tastes ,were pampered and inured to luxury4 ,their palates seem'd to overtop the brain1 ,and the rank ,dives-pleasure1 to subvert ,childhood's simplicity of sweet content4 --,precocious appetites1 when overruled1 ,or disappointed1 lend imperious strength ,to evil tempers1 and a fierce disdain4 ,methought1 our ,mother-,land1 in this respect ,had wiser usages4 ,her little ones ,at their own regular1 plain table learn'd ,no culinary criticism1 nor claim'd ,admission to the richly furnish'd board ,nor deem'd the viands of their older friends ,pertain'd to them4 ,a pleasant sight it was ,at close of day1 their simple supper o'er1 ,to find them in the quiet nursery laid1 ,like rose-buds folded in a fragrant sheath ,to peaceful slumber4 ,hence their nerves attain'd ,firm texture1 and the key-stone of the frame1 ,this wondrous frame1 so often sinn'd against1-- ,unwarp'd and undispeptic1 gave to life ,a higher zest4 ,year after year swept by1 ,and ,conrad's symmetry of form and face ,grew more conspicuous4 ,yet he fail'd to win ,approval from the pious1 or desire ,to seek him as companion for their sons4 --,at school and college he defied restraint1 ,and round the associates of his idle hours ,threw a mysterious veil4 ,but rumor spake ,of them1 as those who would be sure to bring ,disgrace and infamy4 ,strong thirst for gold ,sprang with the weeds of vice4 ,his mother's purse ,was drain'd for him1 and when at length she spake ,in warm remonstrance1 he with rudeness rush'd ,out of her presence1 or withdrew himself ,all night from her abode4 ,then she was fain ,to appease his anger by some lavish gift ,from scant resources1 which she ill could spare1 ,making the evil worse4 ,the growth of sin ,is rank and rapid when the youthful heart ,abjures the sway of duty4 ,weaving oft ,the mesh of falsehood1 may it not forget ,what the truth is8 ,the wavering1 moral sense ,depraved and weaken'd1 fails to grasp the clue ,of certainty1 nor scruples to deny ,words utter'd1 and deeds done1 for conscience sleeps ,stifled1 and callous4 ,fearful must it be1 ,when ,truth offended and austere1 confronts ,the false soul at ,heaven's bar4 99 99 99 99 99 ,an aged man ,dwelt by himself upon a dreary moor1 ,and it was whisper'd that a miser's hoard ,absorb'd his thoughts4 ,there1 at the midnight hour ,the unwonted flash of lights was seen by those ,who chanced to pass1 and entering in1 they found ,the helpless inmate murder'd in his bed1 ,and the house rifled4 ,differing tracks they mark'd ,of flying footsteps in the moisten'd soil1 ,and eager search ensued4 ,at length1 close hid ,in a dense thicket1 ,conrad they espied1 ,his shoes besmear'd with blood4 ,question'd of those ,who with him in this work of horror join'd1 ,he answered nothing4 ,all unmov'd he stood ,upon his trial1 the nefarious deed ,denying1 and of his accomplices ,disclosing nought4 ,but still there seem'd a chain ,of evidence to bind him in its coil1 ,and ,justice had her course4 ,the prison bolts ,closed heavily behind him1 and his doom ,for years1 with felons was incorporate4 99 99 99 99 99 ,of the wild anguish and despair that reign'd ,in his ancestral home1 no words can give ,description meet4 ,in the poor mother's mind ,reason forsook its throne4 ,her last hope gone1 ,torn by a torrent from her death-like grasp1 ,having no anchor on the eternal ,rock1 ,she plunged beside it1 into gulphs profound4 --,she slept not1 ate not1 heeded no kind word1 ,caress of fondness1 or benignant prayer3 ,she only shriek'd1 ,my boy6 my beautiful6 ,they bind his hands6 ,and then with frantic cries ,she struggled 'gainst imaginary foes1 ,till strength was gone4 ,through the long syncope ,her never-resting lips essay'd to form ,the gasping sounds1 ,my boy6 my beautiful6 ,hence6 ,caitiffs6 hence6 my boy6 my beautiful6 ,and in that unquell'd madness life went out1 ,like lamp before the blast4 99 99 99 99 99 ,with sullen port ,of bravery as one who scorns defeat ,though it hath come upon him1 ,conrad met ,the sentence of the law4 ,but its full force ,he fail'd to estimate2 the stern restraint ,on liberty of movement1 coarsest fare1 ,stripes for the contumacious1 and for all ,labor1 and silence4 ,the inquiring glance ,on the new-comer bent1 from stolid eyes ,of malefactors1 harden'd to their lot1 ,and hating all mankind1 he coldly shunn'd ,or haughtily return'd4 ,yet there were lights ,even in this dark abode1 not often found ,in penal regions1 where the wrath of man ,is prompt to punish1 and remembereth not ,the mercy that himself doth ask of ,god4 --,a just man was the warden and humane1 ,not credulous1 or easily deceiv'd1 ,but hopeful of our nature1 though deprav'd1 ,and for the incarcerate1 careful to restrain ,all petty tyranny4 ,courteous was he ,to visitants1 for many such there were4 ,philanthropists1 whose happy faith believ'd ,prisons reforming schools1 came here to scan ,arrangements and appliances as guides ,to other institutions3 strangers too1 ,who 'mid their explorations of the ,state1 ,scenery and structures1 would not overlook ,its model-prison4 ,now and then1 was seen ,some care-worn mother1 leading by the hand ,her froward boy1 with hope that he might learn ,a lesson from the punishment he saw4 --,when day was closed and to his narrow cell ,bearing his supper1 every prisoner went1 ,the night-lock firmly clench'd1 beside some grate ,while the large lamp thro' the long corridors ,threw flickering light1 the ,chaplain often stood ,conversing4 ,of the criminal's past life ,he made inquiry1 and receiv'd replies ,foreign from truth1 or vague and taciturn3 ,and added pious counsels1 unobserv'd1 ,heeded but slightly1 or ill understood4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the leaden-footed weeks o'er ,conrad pass'd1 ,with deadening weight4 ,privation bow'd his pride4 ,the lily-handed1 smiting at the forge1 ,detested life1 and meditated means ,to accomplish suicide4 ,at dusk of eve1 ,while in his cell1 on darkest themes he mused1 ,before his grate1 a veiled woman stood4 --,she spake not1 but her presence made him glad1-- ,a purer atmosphere seem'd breathing round ,to expand his shrivell'd heart4 ,fair gifts she brought1 ,roses fresh-blown1 and cates1 and fragrant fruits ,most grateful to his fever'd lip4 ,oh speak6 ,speak to me6 ,but she glided light away1 ,and heavenly sweet1 her parting whisper said ,good night6 ,with the new moon ,i'll come again4 99 99 99 99 99 ,with the new ,moon6 ,hope6 hope6 ,its magic wand ,with phosphorescence ting'd that ,stygian pool ,of chill despair1 in which his soul had sank ,lower and lower still4 ,now1 at the forge ,a blessed vision gleam'd4 ,its mystery woke ,the romance of his nature4 ,every day ,moved lighter on1 and when he laid it down1 ,it breathed good night6 like a complacent child ,going to rest4 ,one barrier less remain'd ,between him and the goal1 and to each night ,a tarrying1 tedious guest1 he bade farewell1 ,like lover1 counting toward his spousal-morn4 99 99 99 99 99 ,but will she come8 ,and then1 he blamed the doubt4 ,his pulse beat quicker1 as the old moon died4 ,and when the slender sickle of pale gold ,cut the blue concave1 by his grated door ,stood the veil'd visitant4 ,the breath of flowers ,foretold her coming4 ,with their wealth she brought ,grapes in the cluster1 and a clasped ,book1 ,the holiest1 and the best4 ,show me thine eyes6 ,he pray'd4 ,but still with undrawn veil1 she gave ,the promise of return1 in whisper sweet1 ,good night6 good night6 ,wilt read my ,book8 and say ,oh ,lamb of ,god1 forgive6 ,so1 by the lamp ,when tardy ,evening still'd the din of toil1 ,he read of ,him who came to save the lost1 ,who touch'd the blind1 and they receiv'd their sight1 ,the dead young man1 and raised him from his bier1 ,reproved the raging ,sea1 and it was still3 ,deeds that his boyhood heard unheedingly4 ,but here1 in this strange solitude of pain ,with different voice they spake4 ,and as he read1 ,the fragrance of the mignionette he loved1 ,press'd 'tween the pages1 lured him onward still4 99 99 99 99 99 ,now1 a new echo in his heart was born1 ,and sometimes mid the weary task1 and leer ,of felon faces1 ere he was aware ,from a compress'd unmurmuring lip1 it broke1 ,o ,lamb of ,god6 ,if still unquell'd ,despair ,thrust up a rebel standard1 down it fell ,at the o'er-powering sigh1 ,o ,lamb of ,god6 ,and ere upon his pallet low1 he sank1 ,it sometimes breathed1 ,o ,lamb of ,god1 forgive6 ,like the taught lesson of a humbled child4 99 99 99 99 99 ,yet duly as the silver vested moon ,hiding awhile in the dark breast of night ,return'd to take her regent watch again ,over our sleeping planet1 softly came ,that shrouded visitant1 preferring still ,like those who guard us lest we dash our foot ,against a stone1 to do her blessed work ,unseen4 ,and with the liberal gifts she brought ,for body1 and for soul1 there seem'd to float ,a legacy of holy themes and thoughts ,behind her1 like an incense-stream4 ,he mused ,oft-times of patience1 and the dying love ,of our dear ,lord1 nor yet without remorse ,of that unsullied ,truth which ,vice rejects1 ,and ,god requires4 ,how beautiful is ,truth6 ,her right-lined course1 amid the veering curves ,and tangents of the world1 her open face ,seeking communion with the scanning stars1 ,her grave1 severe simplicity of speech ,untrammelled by the wiles of rhetoric1 ,by bribes of popular applause unbow'd1 ,in unison with ,him she dwells who ruled ,the tyranny of ,chaos1 with the words ,let there be light6 ,gladly we turn again ,to that fair mansion mid the rural vales ,where first our song awoke4 ,advancing years ,brought to its blessed ,lady no regret ,or weak complaint for what the hand of ,time ,had borne away4 ,enduring charms were hers ,on which he laid no tax2 the beaming smile1 ,the voice of melody1 the hand that mark'd ,each day with deeds of goodness1 and the heart ,that made ,god's gift of life more beautiful1 ,the more prolong'd4 ,its griefs she counted gains1 ,since ,he who wisely will'd them cannot err1 ,and loves while ,he afflicts4 ,their dialect ,was breathed in secret 'tween her soul and ,him4 ,but toward mankind1 her duties made more pure ,by the strong heat of their refining fires1 ,flow'd forth like molten gold4 ,she sought the poor1 ,counsell'd the ignorant1 consoled the sad1 ,and made the happy happier1 by her warmth ,of social sympathy4 ,she loved to draw ,the young around her table2 well she knew ,to cheer and teach them1 by the tale or song1 ,or sacred hymn1 for music dwelt with her ,till life went out4 ,it pleased her much to hear ,their innocent merriment1 while from the flow ,and swelling happiness of childhood's heart ,so simply purchased1 she herself imbibed ,a fuller tide of fresh vitality4 ,her favor'd guests exultingly rehears'd ,their visits to the ,lady1 counting each ,a privilege1 not having learned the creed ,which modern times inculcate in our land ,that whatsoe'er is old1 is obsolete4 --,still ever at her side1 by night and day ,was ,bertha1 entering into every plan1 ,with zealous aid1 assuming every care ,that brought a burden1 catching every smile ,on the clear mirror of a loving heart1 ,which by reflection doubled4 ,thus they dwelt1 ,mother and daughter1 in sweet fellowship1 ,one soul betwixt them4 ,filial piety ,thrives best with generous natures4 ,here was nought ,of self to cheek it1 so it richly bloom'd ,like the life-tree1 that yieldeth every month ,new fruits1 still hiding mid its wealth of leaves ,the balm of healing4 ,in that peaceful home ,the fair-haired orphan was a fount of joy1 ,spreading her young heart like a tintless sheet ,for ,love to write on4 ,sporting 'mid the flowers1 ,caroling with the birds1 or gliding light ,as fawn1 her fine1 elastic temperament ,took happiest coloring from each varying hour ,or changing duty4 ,kind1 providing cares ,which younglings often thoughtlessly receive ,or thankless claim1 she gratefully repaid ,with glad obedience4 ,pleas'd was she to bear ,precocious part in household industry1 ,round shining bars to involve the shortening thread1 ,and see the stocking grow1 or side by side ,with her loved benefactresses to work ,upon some garment for the ill-clad poor1 ,with busy needle4 ,as their almoner1 ',twas her delight to seek some lowly hut ,and gliding thence1 with noiseless footstep1 leave ,with her kind dole1 a wonder whence it came4 --,a heavenly blessing wrapp'd its wing around ,the adopted orphanage4 ,oh ye whose homes ,are childless1 know ye not some little heart ,collapsing1 for the need of parent's love1 ,that ye might breathe upon8 some outcast lamb ,that ye might shelter in your fold8 content ,to make the sad eye sparkle1 guide the feet ,in duty's path1 bring a new soul to ,heaven1 ,and take your payment from the ,judge's ,voice1 ,at the ,last ,day8 --,a tireless tide of joy1 ,a world of pleasure in the garden bound1 ,open'd to ,leonore4 ,from the first glance ,of the frail ,crocus through its snowy sheath1 ,on1 to the ripen'd gatherings of the ,grape1 ,and thorn-clad chestnut1 all was sweet to her4 ,she loved to plant the seed and watch the germ1 ,and nurse the tender leaflet like a babe1 ,and lead the tendril right4 ,to her they seem'd ,like living friends4 ,she sedulously mark'd ,their health and order1 and was skill'd to prune ,the too luxuriant spray1 or gadding vine4 ,she taught the blushing ,strawberry where to run1 ,and stoop'd to kiss the timid ,violet1 ,blossoming in the shade1 and sometimes dream'd ,the ,lily of the lakelet1 calmly throned ,on its broad leaf1 like ,moses in his ark1 ,spake words to her4 ,and so1 as years fled by1 ,young ,fancy1 train'd by ,nature1 turn'd to ,god4 ,her clear1 ,teutonic mind1 took hold on truth ,and found in every season1 change of joy4 --,yet her prime pleasure seem'd at wintry eve ,tho' storms might fall1 when from its branching arms ,the antique candelabra shed fair light ,on polished wainscot and rich curtains dropp'd ,close o'er the casements1 she might draw her seat ,near to her aged friend and take her hand ,and frame her voice to join some tuneful song1 ,treasuring whate'er of wise remark distill'd ,from those loved lips4 ,then1 as her ,mentor spoke ,of ,god's great goodness in this mortal life1 ,teaching us both by sorrow and by joy1 ,and how we ought to yield it back with trust ,and not with dread1 whenever ,he should call1 ,having such precious promises1 through ,christ ,of gain unspeakable1 beyond the grave1 ,the listening pupil felt her heart expand ,with reverent love4 ,friendship1 'tween youth and age ,is gain to both1--nor least to that which finds ,the germs of knowledge and experience drop ,and twine themselves around the unfrosted locks1 ,a fadeless coronet4 ,in this sweet home ,the lengthen'd day seem'd short for their delights1 ,and wintry evening brief4 ,the historic page ,made vocal1 brought large wealth to memory4 ,the lore of distant climes1 that rose and fell ,ere our ,new ,world1 like ,lazarus came forth1 ,the napkin round her forehead1 and sate down ,beside her startled sisters4 ,last of all1 ,the large time-honor'd ,bible loos'd its clasps ,and shed its manna on their waiting souls2 ,then rose the sacred hymn in blended tones1 ,by ,bertha's parlor-organ made intense ,in melody of praise1 and fervent ,prayer ,set its pure crown upon the parted day1 ,and kiss'd the ,angel1 ,sleep4 ,yet ere they rose ,from bended knee1 there was a lingering pause1 ,a silent orison for one whose name ,but seldom pass'd their lips1 though in their hearts ,his image with its faults and sorrows dwelt1 ,invoking pity of a pardoning ,god4 --,thus fled the years away1 the cultured glebe ,stirr'd by the vernal plough-share1 yielding charms ,to ,summer1 pouring wealth o'er ,autumn's breast1 ,pausing from weary toil1 when ,winter comes1 ,bringing its ,sabbath1 as the man of eld ,with snow upon his temples1 peaceful sits ,in his arm-chair1 to ruminate and rest4 99 99 99 99 99 ,once1 at that season when the ices shrink ,befere the vernal equinox1 at morn ,there was no movement in the ,lady's room1 ,who prized the early hours like molten gold1 ,and ever rose before the kingly ,sun4 --,on the white pillow still reposed her head1 ,her cheek upon her hand4 ,she had retired ,in health1 affection's words1 and trustful prayers ,hallowing her lips4 ,now1 on her brow there seem'd ,unwonted smoothness1 and the smile was there ,set as a seal1 with which the call she heard1 ,come6 sister-spirit6 ,she had gain'd the wish ,oft utter'd to her ,god1 to pass away ,without the sickness and enfeebled powers ,that tax the heart of love4 ,death that unbars ,unto the ready soul the ,gate of ,heaven1 ,claiming no pang or groan from failing flesh1 ,doth angel-service4 ,but alas6 the shock1 ,the chill1 the change1 the anguish1 where she dwelt1 ,and must return no more4 ,as one amaz'd ,the stricken daughter held her breath for awe1 ,god seem'd so near4 ,methought she saw the ,hand ,that smote her4 ,half herself was reft away1 ,body and soul4 ,yet no repining word ,announc'd her agony4 ,the tolling bell ,to hill and valley1 told with solemn tongue ,that death had been among them1 and at door ,and window listening1 aged crone and child ,counted its strokes1 a stroke for every year1 ,and predicated thence1 as best they might1 ,whom they had lost4 ,neighbor of neighbor ask'd1 ,till the sad tidings were possess'd by all4 --,a village funeral is a thing that warns ,all from their homes4 ,in the throng'd city's bound1 ,hearses unnoticed pass1 and none inquire ,who goeth to his grave4 ,but rural life ,keepeth afresh the rills of sympathy4 ,true sorrow was there at these obsequies1 ,for all the poor were mourners4 ,there the old ,came in the garments she had given1 bow'd down ,with their own sense of loss4 ,o'er furrow'd cheeks ,in care-worn channels stole the trickling tear4 ,the young were weepers1 for their memories stored ,many a gentle word1 and precept kind1 ,like jewels dropp'd behind her4 ,mothers rais'd ,their little ones above the coffin's side ,to look upon her face4 ,lingering they gazed ,deeming the lovely ,lady sweetly slept ,among the flowers that on her pillow lay4 99 99 99 99 99 ,he's but a tyro in the school of grief ,who hath not from the victor-tomb return'd ,unto his rifled home4 ,the utter weight ,of whelming desolation doth not fall ,till the last rites are paid4 ,the cares of love ,having no longer scope1 withdraw their shield1 ,and even the seat whereon the lost one sate1 ,the pen he held1 the cup from which he drank1 ,launch their keen darts against the festering soul4 --,the lonely daughter1 never since her birth ,divided from the mother1 having known ,no separate pleasure1 or secreted thought1 ,with deep humility resumed her course ,of daily duty and philanthropy1 ,not murmuring1 but remembering ,his great love ,who lent so long that blessing beyond price1 ,and from her broken censer offering still ,incense of praise4 ,she deem'd it fearful loss ,to lose a sorrow1 be chastis'd in vain1 ,not yield our joys1 but have them rent away1 ,and make this life a battle-field with ,god4 ,the sombre shadow brooding o'er their home ,was felt by all4 ,the heart of ,leonore ,dwindled and shrank beneath it4 ,vigor fled1 ,the untastcd meal1 and couch bedew'd with tears ,gave the solution to her wasted flesh1 ,and drooping eye-lids4 ,folded in her arms1 ,bertha with tender accents said1 my child1 ,we please not her who to the angels went1 ,by hopeless grief4 ,doubt not her watchful eye ,regards us1 though unseen4 ,how oft she taught ,to make ,god's will our own4 ,you1 who were glad ,to do her bidding then1 distress her not ,by disobedience now4 ,waste not the health ,in reckless martyrdom1 which ,heaven hath link'd ,with many duties1 and with hope to dwell ,if faithful found1 with ,her who went before ,and beckoning waits us4 ,from dull trance of grief ,by kind reproof awakened1 ,leonore ,strove to redeem her scholarship from blame ,and be a comforter1 as best she might ,to her remaining patroness4 99 99 99 99 99 ,within ,the limits of a neighboring town1 a wretch ,fell by the wayside1 struck by sudden ,death ,that vice propels4 ,a ,man of ,god1 who sought ,like his blest ,master every form of woe ,found him1 and to a shelter and a couch ,convey'd4 ,then bending down1 with earnest words ,for time grew short1 he urg'd him to repent4 ,say1 ,lord have mercy on my soul4 ,look up ,unto the ,lamb of ,god1 for ,he can save ,even to the uttermost4 ,slight heed obtain'd ,this adjuration1 wild the glazing eye ,fix'd on the wall1--and ever and anon ,the stiffening fingers clutch'd at things unseen1 ,while from those spent lungs came a shuddering sound1 ,that's he6 ,that's he6 ,the old man6 ,his grey hairs ,dabbled with blood6 ,then in a loud1 long cry1 ,wrung out by torturing pain1 ,i struck the blow6 ,i tell ye that ,i struck the blow1 and scaped4 ,conrad who bore the doom is innocent1 ,save fellowship with guilt4 ,and so he fled2 ,the voice of prayer around him1 but the soul ,beyond its reach4 ,the kneeling ,pastor rose ,sadly1 as when the ,shepherd fails to snatch ,a wanderer from the ,lion4 ,but the truth ,couch'd in that dismal cry of parting life ,he treasured up1 and bore to those who held ,power to investigate and to reprieve2 ,and authorized by them with gladness sought ,the gloomy prison4 ,conrad there he found ,in sullen syncope of sickening thought1 ,and cautiously in measured terms disclosed ,his liberation4 ,wondering doubt look'd forth ,from eyes that opening wide and wider still ,strain'd from their sockets4 ,yet the hand he took ,that led him from the cell1 and onward moved ,like ,peter following his angel guide ,deeming he saw a vision4 ,as the bolts ,drew gratingly to let them pass1 he seem'd ,to gather consciousness1 and restless grew ,with an unspoken fear1 lest at the last ,some sterner turnkey1 or gruff sentinel ,might bar their egress4 ,when behind them closed4 ,the utmost barrier1 and the sweet1 fresh air ,so long witheld1 fill'd his collapsing lungs1 ,he shouted rapturously1 ,am ,i alive8 ,or have ,i burst the gates of death1 and found ,a second ,eden8 ,the unwonted sound ,of his own voice1 freed from the drear constraint ,of prison durance1 swell'd his thrilling frame ,with strong and joyous impulse1 for 'tis said ,long stifled utterance is torturing pain ,to organs train'd to speech4 ,with one high leap ,like an enfranchis'd steed he seem'd to throw ,his spirit-chain behind him4 ,then he took ,the ,pastor's offer'd arm1 who led the way ,to his own house1 and bade him bathe and change ,his prison garments1 and repose that night ,under his roof4 ,with thoughtful care he spoke ,to his own household1 kindly to receive ,the erring one1--for we are sinners all1 ,and not upon our merits may depend ,but on abounding grace4 ,so when the hour ,of cheerful supper summon'd to the board1 ,he came among them as a comely guest1 ,refresh'd and welcome4 ,pleasant converse cheer'd ,the hospitable meal1 and then withdrawn ,into the quiet study 'mid the books1 ,that saintly good man with the hoary hair ,silvering his temples like a graceful crown1 ,strove by wise counsel to encourage him ,for life's important duties1 ,but he deem'd ,a ban was on him1 and a mark which all ,would scan who met him4 ,he whose lot hath been ,with fiends in ,pandemonium1 must expect ,hate and contempt from men4 ,not so1 my son6 ,wipe off the past1 as a forgotten thing1 ,propitiate virtue1 by forsaking vice4 ,the good will aid you1 and a brighter day ,doubtless awaits you4 ,be not too much moved ,by man's applause or blame1 but ever look ,unto a higher ,judge4 ,then there arose ,a voice of supplication1 so intense ,to the ,great ,pardoner1 that ,he would send ,his spirit down to change and purify ,the erring heart1 that those persuasive tones1 ,so humble1 yet so strangely eloquent ,breathed o'er the unhappy one like soothing spell ,of magic influence1 and he slept that night ,with peace and hope1 long exiled from his couch4 99 99 99 99 99 ,a summer drive to one sequestered long1 ,hath charms untold4 ,the common face of earth1 ,the waving grass1 the rustle of the leaves1 ,kiss'd by the zephyr1 or by winged bird ,disparted1 as it finds its chirping nest1 ,the murmur of the brooks1 the low of herds1 ,the ever-changing landscape1 rock and stream1 ,and azure concave fleck'd with silver clouds ,awaken rapturous joy4 ,this ,conrad felt1 ,while pleasure every kindling feature touch'd1 ,and every accent tuned4 ,but when they saw ,the fair ancestral roof through trees afar1 ,strong agony convuls'd him1 and he cried1 ,not there6 ,not there6 ,first take me to ,her grave6 ,and so to that secluded spot they turn'd1 ,where rest the silent dead4 ,on the green mound1 ,his ,mother's bed1 with sobs and groans he fell1 ,and in his paroxysm of grief would fain ,have torn the turf-bound earth away1 to reach ,the mouldering coffin4 ,then1 a flood of tears1 ,heaven's blessed gift burst forth1 ,oh weep1 my ,son6 ,these gushing tears shall help to wash away ,remorseful pangs1 and lurking seeds of sin4 ,here1 in this sacred tomb1 bury the past1 ,and strong in heavenly trust1 resolve to rise ,to a new life4 ,still kneeling on the sod ,with hands and eyes uprais'd1 he said1 ,i will6 ,so help me ,god6 ,the tear was on his cheek ,undry'd1 when to the home of peace they came4 ,there ,bertha greeted them with outstretch'd hands ,and beaming brow1 while the good ,pastor said1 ,thy ,son was dead1 but is alive again4 ,a sweet voice answer'd1 ,lost he was1 and found6 ,oh1 welcome home4 ,she would have folded him ,in her embrace4 ,but at her feet he fell1 ,clasping her knees1 and bowing down his head1 ,till she assured him that a mother's love ,was in her heart4 ,and there is joy in ,heaven ,because of him1 this day1 the good ,man said4 --,his tones were tremulous1 as up he rose1 ,ah1 my veil'd ,angel6 ,now ,i see thy face1 ,and hear thy voice4 99 99 99 99 99 ,what were the glowing thoughts ,of the meek shepherd1 as alone he took ,his homeward way8 ,the joy of others flow'd ,o'er his glad spirit like a refluent tide ,whose sands were gold4 ,had he not chosen well ,his source of happiness8 ,there are1 who mix ,pride and ambition with their services ,before the altar4 ,did the tinkling bells ,upon the garments of the ,jewish priest ,draw down his thoughts from ,god8 ,the mitred brow1 ,doth it stoop low enough to find the souls ,that struggle in the pits of sin1 and die8 ,methinks ambitious honors might disturb ,the man whose banner is the ,cross of ,christ1 ,and earth's high places shut him out of ,heaven4 --,yet this serene disciple1 so content ,to do his ,master's will1 in humblest works ,of charity1 had he not chosen well ,his happiness8 ,the hero hears the trump ,of victor-fame1 and his high pulses leap1 ,but laurels dipp'd in blood shall vex his soul ,when the death-ague comes4 ,more blest is he ,who bearing on his brow the anointing oil ,keeps in his heart the humility and zeal ,that sanctify his vows4 ,so1 full of joy ,that fears no frost of earth1 because its root ,is by the river of eternal life1 ,the white-hair'd ,pastor took his homeward way4 99 99 99 99 99 ,new life upon the farm4 ,a master's eye ,and step are there4 ,forest1 and cultured field1 ,and garden feel his influence4 ,forth at morn ,he goes amid the laboring hinds who bathe ,their scythe in fragrant dew1 mid all their toils ,teaching or learning1 with such cheerful port ,as won their hearts4 ,even animals partook ,his kind regard4 ,the horse1 with arching neck1 ,and ear erect1 replied as best he might ,to his caressing tones4 ,the patient ox1 ,with branching horns1 and the full-udder'd cow ,grew sleek and flourish'd and in happiest guise ,reveal'd his regency4 ,the noble dog1 ,o'erflowing with intelligence and zeal1 ,follow'd him as a friend2 even the poor cat ,oft scorn'd and distanc'd1 till her fawning love ,turns into abjectness1 crept to his knee ,without reproof1 and thro' her half-shut eyes ,regarding him1 ere into sleep she sank ,with song monotonous1 express'd her joy4 --,he loved to hear the clarion of the cock1 ,and see him in his gallantry protect ,the brooding mothers1--of their infant charge ,so fond and proud4 ,the generous care bestow'd ,for weal and comfort of these servitors ,and their mute dialect of gratitude ,pleas'd and refresh'd him1 while those blessed toils ,that quicken earth's fertility bestowed ,the boon of healthful vigor4 ,bertha found ,the burden of her cares securely laid ,on his young arm1 and gratefully beheld ,each day a portion of allotted time ,spent in the library1 with earnest care1 ,seeking the knowledge that in youth he scorn'd4 --,amid their rural neighborhood were some ,who frankly took him by the hand1 as one1 ,worthy to rise1 and others who preferr'd ,to cherish evil memories1 or indulge ,dark auguries4 ,but on his course he held ,unmov'd by either1 for to her he seem'd ,intent and emulous alone to please ,a higher ,judge4 ,when leaning on his arm ,she sought the ,house of ,god1 her tranquil brow ,seem'd in its time-tried beauty to express ,the ,nunc ,dimittis4 ,prisons are not oft ,converting places4 ,vicious habits shorn ,of their top branches1 strike a rankling root ,darkly beneath1 while hatred of mankind ,and of the justice that decreed such doom ,bar out the ,love ,divine4 ,yet ,bertha felt ,god's spirit was not limited1 and might ,pluck brands from out the burning1 and in faith ,believ'd the son of many prayers had found ,remission of his ,god4 ,his life she scann'd1 ,of honest1 cheerful industry1 combined ,with intellectual progress1 and perceived ,how his religious worship humbly wore ,the signet ,i have sinn'd2 while toward men ,his speech was cautious1 far beyond his years1 ,as one by stern ,experience school'd to know ,the human heart's deceptions4 ,yet at home ,and in that fellowship with ,nature's works ,which ,agriculture gives1 his soul threw off ,its fetters and grew strong4 ,once as they walk'd ,within a favorite grove1 consulting where ,the woodman's ax1 or pruning-knife had best ,exert their wholesome ministry1 he led ,to a fair resting-place1 a turf-bound seat1 ,beneath a spreading ,walnut1 carpeted ,with depth of fragrant leaves1 while a slight brook ,half-hidden1 half revealed1 with minstrel touch1 ,soften'd the spirit4 ,there1 in tones subdued ,by strong emotion1 he disclosed his love ,for ,leonore4 ,oh ,conrad6 she is pure ,and peaceful as the lily bud that sleeps ,on the heaven-mirror'd lake4 ,i know it well1 ,nor would ,i wake a ripple or a breath ,to mar its purity4 ,yet wait1 my ,son6 ,wait8 ,mother1 wait6 ,it is not in man's heart ,to love1 and wait8 ,but make your prayer to ,god4 ,lay your petition at his feet1 and see ,what is ,his will4 ,before that ,god ,i swear ,to be her true protector and best friend ,till death remove me hence1 if she confide ,at fitting time1 that holy trust to me4 ,oh angel ,mother6 sanction me to search ,if in her heart there be one answering chord ,to my great love4 ,so may we lead below ,that blended life which with a firmer step ,and holier joy tends upward toward a realm ,of perfect bliss4 ,thus authorized1 he made ,her mind's improvement his delight1 and found ,community in knowledge was a spell ,to draw young hearts together4 ,o'er the lore ,and language of her native land they hung ,gleaning its riches with a tireless hand1 ,deep and enamour'd students4 ,when she sang ,or play'd1 he join'd her with his silvery flute1 ,making the thrill of music more intense ,through the heart's harmony4 ,amid the flowers ,he met her1 and her garden's pleasant toil ,shared with a master's hand1 for well he knew ,the nature and the welfare of the plants ,that most she prized4 ,they loved the umbrageous trees1 ,and in their strong1 columnar trunks beheld ,the ,almighty ,architect1 and for ,his sake ,paid them respect4 ,at the soft twilight hour1 ,he sate beside her silently1 and watch'd ,the pensive lustre of her lifted eye1 ,intent to welcome the first star that hung ,its holy cresset forth4 ,unconsciously ,her moods of lonely musing stole away1 ,and his endear'd society became ,part of her being4 ,in her soul was nought ,of vanity1 or coquetry to bar ,that heaven-imparted sentiment which makes ,all hope1 all thought1 all self1 subordinate ,unto another's weal1 while life shall last4 99 99 99 99 99 ,one morn1 the orphan sought the private ear ,of her kind benefactress4 ,in low tones ,with the sweet modesty of innocence1 ,she told that ,conrad offered her his heart1 ,and in the tender confidence of trust ,entreated counsel from her changeless friend4 ,can you o'erlook the past1 my ,leonore8 ,our ,god forgives the penitent4 ,and we ,so prone to error1 cannot we forgive8 ,the change in ,conrad1 months and years have made ,more evident4 ,might ,i but sooth away ,the memory of his woes1 and aid his feet ,more steadfastly to tread in virtue's path1 ,and make him happier on his way to ,heaven1 ,my life and love ,i'd gladly consecrate4 99 99 99 99 99 ,wrapp'd in her arms the foster-mother gave ,a tearful blessing1 while on bended knee ,together they implored the approving smile ,of ,him1 who gives ability to make ,and keep the covenant of unending love4 ,a rural bridal1 ,cupid's ancient themes ,though more than twice-told1 seem not wearisome ,or obsolete4 ,the many tomes they prompt1 ,though quaint or prolix1 still a place maintain ,in library or boudoir1 and seduce ,the school-girl from her sleep1 and lessons too4 ,but ,i no tint of romance have to throw ,on this plain tale1 or o'er the youthful pair ,who gladly took the irrevocable vow4 99 99 99 99 99 ,their deep and thoughtful happiness required ,no herald pomp4 ,buds of the snowy rose1 ,on brow and bosom1 were the only gems ,of the young fair-hair'd bride1 whose ringlets fell ,down to her shoulders3--nature's simple veil ,of wondrous grace4 ,a few true hearted friends ,witness'd the marriage-rite1 with cheering smiles ,and fervent blessings4 ,and the coming years ,with all their tests of sunshine or of shade1 ,belied no nuptial promise1 striving each ,with ardent emulation to surpass ,its predecessor in the heavenward path ,of duty and improvement4 ,bertha's prayers ,were ever round them as a thread of gold ,wove daily in the warp and woof of life4 ,in their felicity she found her own ,reduplicated4 ,in good deeds to all ,who sought her aid1 or felt the sting of woe1 ,with unimpaired benevolence she wrought1 ,and tireless sympathy4 ,ordain'd she seem'd ,to show the beauty of the life that hath ,god for its end4 ,clearer its brightness gleam'd ,as nearer to its heavenly goal it drew4 ,the smile staid with her till she went above1 ,death harm'd it not4 ,her passport to that clime ,where ,love begun on earth1 doth end in joy1 ,forevermore4 ,,in ,,memoriam4 ,,rev4 ,,dr4 ,t4 ,m4 ,,cooley1 ,for more than sixty years ,pastor of one ,church in ,east ,granville1 ,mass41 died there in #ahei1 aged #hc4 ,not in the pulpit where he joy'd to bear ,the message of salvation1 not beside ,his study-lamp1 nor in the fireside chair1 ,encircled by those dearest ones who found ,in him their life of life1 nor in the homes ,of his beloved flock1 sharing with them ,all sympathies of sorrow or of joy1 ,is seen the faithful ,shepherd4 ,he hath gone ,to yon blest ,country where he long'd to be1 ,to stand before the ,great ,white ,throne1 and join ,that hymn of praise for which his course below ,gave preparation4 ,at one post he stood ,from youth till fourscore years1 averse to change ,though oft-times tempted4 ,for he did not deem ,restless ambition or desire of gold ,fit counterpoise for that most sacred love ,born in the inner chambers of the soul1 ,and intertwining with a golden mesh ,pastor and people4 ,like some lofty tree ,whose untransplanted roots in freshness meet ,the living waters1 and whose leaf is green ',mid winter's gather'd frost1 serene he stood1 ,more fondly honor'd for each added year1 ,while 'neath his shadow drew with reverent love ,successive generations4 ,hoary ,time ,linger'd with blessings for his latest day1 ,and now 'neath turf embalm'd with tears he sleeps1 ,waiting the resurrection of the just4 ,,madam ,,olivia ,,phelps1 ,widow of the late ,,anson ,g4 ,,phelps1 ,esq41 died at ,new ,york1 ,april #bdth1 #ahei1 aged #gd4 ,when the good mother dieth1 and the home ,so long made happy by her boundless love ,is desolate and empty1 there are tears ,of filial anguish1 not to be represt2 ,and when the many friends who at her side ,sought social sympathy and counsel sweet1 ,or the sad poor1 who1 for their ,saviour's sake1 ,found bountiful relief1 and kind regard1 ,stand at that altered threshold1 and perceive ,faces of strangers from her casement look1 ,there is a pang not to be told in words4 ,yet1 when the christian1 having well discharged ,a life-long duty1 riseth where no sin ,or possibility of pain or death ,may follow1 should there not be praise to ,him ,who gives such victory8 ,thus it is even now-- ,tears with the triumph-strain2 ,for we are made ,of flesh as well as spirit1 and are taught ,by ,joy and ,sorrow1 walking side by side1 ,and with strong contrast deepening truths divine4 ,but unto thee1 dear friend1 whose breath was prayer1 ,and o'er whose mortal sickness hovering ,faith ,shed heaven's content1 there was no further need ,of tutelage like that by which we learn1 ,too slow1 perchance1 with vacillating minds1 ,what the disciples of our ,lord should be2 ,for when the subjugation to ,god's will ,is perfect1 and affliction all disarmed1 ,is not life's lesson done8 ,,martha ,,agnes ,,bonner1 ,child of ,rob,e,r,t ,,bonner1 ,esq41 died at ,new ,york1 ,april #bhth1 #ahei1 aged #ac months4 ,there was a cradling lent us here1 ,to cheer our lot1 ,it was a cherub in disguise1 ,but yet our dim and earth-bow'd eyes ,perceiv'd it not4 ,its voice was like the symphony ,that lute-strings lend1 ,yet tho' our hearts the music hail'd ,as a sweet breath of heaven1 they fail'd ,to comprehend4 ,it linger'd till each season fill'd ,their perfect round1 ,the vernal bud1 the summer-rose1 ,autumnal gold1 and wintry snows ,whitening the ground4 ,but when again reviving ,spring ,thro' flowers would roam1 ,and the white cherry blossoms stirr'd ,neath the soft wing of chirping bird1 ,a call from angel-harps was heard1 ,cherub1--come home4 ,,madam ,,whiting1 ,widow of the late ,,spencer ,,whiting1 ,esq41 died at ,hartford1 ,april1 #ahei1 aged #hh4 ,life's work well done1 how beautiful to rest4 ,aye1 lift your little ones to see her face1 ,so calmly smiling in its coffin-bed6 ,there is no wrinkle there1--no rigid gloom ,to make them turn their tender glance away2 ,and when they say their simple prayer at night ,with folded hands1--instruct their innocent lips ,meekly to say3 ,our ,father6 may we live1 ,and die like her4 ,her more than fourscore years ,chill'd not in her the genial flow of thought ,or energy of deed4 ,the earnest power ,to advance home-happiness1 the kindly warmth ,of social intercourse1 the sweet response ,of filial love1 rejoicing in her joy1 ,and reverencing her saintly piety1 ,were with her1 unimpair'd1 until the end4 ,a course like this1 predicted close serene1 ,and so it was4 ,there came no cloud to dim ,her spirit's light1 when at a beckoning brief ,she heavenward went4 ,miss'd is she here1 and mourn'd2 ,from hall1 from hearthstone1 and from household board1 ,a beauty and a dignity have fled1-- ,and the heart's tears as freely flowed for her1 ,as for the loved ones1 in their prime of days4 ,age justly held in honor1 hath a charm ,peculiarly its own1 a symmetry ,of nearness to the skies4 ,and these were hers1 ,whose life was duty1 and whose death was peace4 ,,denison ,,olmsted1 ,,ll4,d41 ,professor of ,astronomy in ,yale ,college1 ,conn41 died at ,new ,haven1 ,may1 #ahei4 ,spring pour'd fresh beauty o'er the cultured grounds1 ,and woke to joyance every leaf and flower1 ,where erst the ,man of ,science lov'd to find ,refreshment from his toils4 ',twas sweet to see ,how ,nature met him there1 and took away ,all weariness of knowledge4 ,yet he held ,higher communion than with fragrant shrub1 ,or taper tree1 that o'er the forest tower'd4 ,his talk was with the stars1 as one by one1 ,night1 in her queenly regency1 put forth ,their sprinkled gold upon her sable robe4 ,he knew their places1 and pronounc'd their names1 ,and by their heavenly conversation sought ,acquaintance with their ,maker4 ,sang they not ,unto his uncloth'd spirit1 as it pass'd ,from sphere to sphere1 above their highest ranks1 ,with its attendant angel8 ,we are dark4 ,we ask1 and yet no answer4 ,but we trace ,in clearest lines the shining course he took ,among life's duties1 for so many years1 ,and hear those parting words1 that all is peace6#a ,the harvest-song of true philosophy4 ,his epitaph is that which cannot yield ,a mouldering motto to the tooth of time4 --,man works in marble1 and it mocks his trust1 ,but the immortal mind doth ever keep ,the earnest impress of the moulding hand1 ,and bear it onward to a race unborn4 --,that is his monument4 #a ,the last words of ,professor ,olmsted4 ,,herbert ,,foss1 ,only son of ,,samuel ,s4 ,,foss1 ,esq41 died ,may #bc;d1 #ahei1 aged three years and three months4 ,read more1 ,papa1 the loving infant cried1-- ,and meekly bow'd the listening ear1 and fix'd ,the ardent eye1 devouring every word ,of his dear picture book4 ,and then he spread ,his arms1 and folded thrice the father's neck4 --,the mother came from church1 and lull'd her boy ,to quiet sleep1 and laid him in his crib2 ,and as they watch'd the smile of innocence ,that sometimes lightly floated o'er his brow ,that ,sabbath eve1 they to each other said1 ,how beautiful4 ,there was another scene1-- ,the child lay compass'd round with ,spring's white flowers1 ,yet heav'd no breath to stir their lightest leaf4 ,and many a one who on that coffin look'd ,and went their way1 in tender whisper said ,how beautiful6 ,oh parents1 ye who sit ,mourning for ,,herbert1 in your empty room1 ,what if the darling of your fondest care ,scarce woke from his brief dream and went to ,heaven8 --,our dream is longer1 but 'tis mixed with tears4 ,for we are dreamers all1 and only those ,fully awake1 who dwell where naught deceives4 ,so1 when time's vision o'er1 you reach the land ,which hath no need of sun1 or waning moon ,to give it light1 how sweet to hear your child ,bid you good morning with his cherub tongue4 ,his last words to his father1 who was reading to him in a favorite book1 were1 ,read1 more1 papa1 please read more4 ,soon after1 and almost without warning1 he died4 ,,mrs4 ,,charles ,n4 ,,cadwallader1 ,died at ,philadelphia1 ,july #bnd1 #ahei1 five weeks after her marriage4 ,the year rolls round1 and brings again ,the bright1 auspicious day1 ,the marriage scene1 the festive cheer1 ,the group serenely gay1 ,the hopes that nurs'd by sun and shower ,o'er youth's fair trellis wound1 ,and in that consecrated rite ,their full fruition found4 ,but ,one unseen amid the throng ,drew near with purpose fell1 ,and lo6 the orange-flowers were changed ,to mournful asphodel4 ,five sabbaths walk'd the beautiful ,her chosen lord beside1 ,but ere the sixth illumed the sky ,she was that dread ,one's bride4 ,yet call her not the bride of ,death ,though in his bed she sleeps1 ,and broidering ,myrtle richly green ,o'er her cold pillow creeps3 ,she hath a bower where angels dwell1 ,a mansion with the blest1 ,for ,jesus whom she trusted here1 ,receiv'd her to ,his rest4 ,,rev4 ,,dr4 ,,james ,w4 ,,alexander1 ,pastor of the ,fifth ,avenue ,church1 ,new ,york1 died at the ,virginia ,springs1 ,july1 #ahei4 ,the great and good4 ,how startling is the knell ,that tells he is but dust4 ,the echo comes ,from where ,virginia's health-reviving springs ,make many whole4 ,but waiting there for him ,the dark-winged angel who doth come but once1 ,troubled the waters1 and his latest breath ,fled1 where his first was drawn4 ,that noble brow ,so mark'd with intellect1 so clear with truth1 ,grave in its goodness1 in its love serene1 ,will it be seen no more8 ,that earnest voice ,filling the ,temple-arch so gloriously1 ,with themes of import to the undying soul ,enforced by power of fervid eloquence ,is it forever mute8 ,that mind so rich ,with varied learning and with classic lore1 ,studious1 progressive1 affluent1 profound1 ,that feeling heart1 instinct with sympathy ,for the world's family of grief and pain1 ,the dark in feature1 or the lost in sin1 ,say1 are their treasures lost8 ,no1 on the page ,of many a tome1 traced by his tireless pen ,they live and brighten for a race to come1 ,prompting the wise1 cheering the sorrowful1 ,and for the little children whom he loved ,meting out fitting words1 like dewy pearls ,glittering along their path4 ,his chief delight ,was in his ,master's work4 ,how well performed ,speak ye whose feet upon ,salvation's rock ,were planted through his prayers4 ,his zeal involved ,no element of self1 but hand in hand ,walk'd with humility4 ,he needeth not ,praise from our mortal lips4 ,the monuments ,of bronze or marble1 what are they to him ,who hath his firm abode above the stars8 --,yet may the people mourn1 may freshly keep ,the transcript of his life1 nor wrongly ask ,when shall we look upon his like again8 ,,mrs4 ,,joseph ,,morgan1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,august1 #ahei4 ,i saw her overlaid with many flowers1 ,such as the gorgeous summer drapes in snow1 ,stainless and fragrant as her memory4 ,blent with their perfume came the pictur'd thought ,of her calm presence1--of her firm resolve ,to bear each duty onward to its end1-- ,and of her power to make a home so fair1 ,that those who shared its sanctities deplore ,the pattern lost forever4 ,many a friend1 ,and none who won that title laid it down1 ,muse on the tablet that she left behind1 ,muse1--and give thanks to ,god for what she was1 ,and what she is2--for every pain hath fled ,that with a barb'd and subtle weapon stood ,between the pilgrim and the promised ,land4 ,but the deep anguish of the filial tear ,we speak not of1--save with the sympathy ,that wakes our own4 ,and so1 we bid farewell4 99 99 99 99 99 ,life's sun at setting1 may shed brighter rays ,than when it rose1 and threescore years and ten ,may wear a beauty that youth fails to reach3 ,the beauty of a fitness for the skies1-- ,such nearness to the angels1 that their song ,peace and good will1 like key-tone rules the soul1 ,and the pure reflex of their smile illumes ,the meekly lifted brow4 ,she taught us this1-- ,and then went home4 ,,miss ,,alice ,,beckwith1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,september #bc;d1 #ahei4 ,the beautiful hath fled ,to join the spirit-train2 ,earth interposed with strong array1 ,love stretch'd his arms to bar her way1 ,all1--all in vain4 ,there was a bridal hope ,before her crown'd with flowers2 ,the orange blossoms took the hue ,with which the cypress dank with dew ,darkeneth our bowers4 ,affections strong and warm ,sprang round her gentle way1 ,young ,childhood1 with a moisten'd eye1 ,and ,friendship's tenderest sympathy ,watch'd her decay4 ,disease around her couch ,long held a tyrant sway1 ,till vanished from her cheek1 the rose1 ,and the fair flesh like vernal snows ,wasted away4 ,yet the dark ,angel's touch ,dissolv'd that dire control1 ,and where the love-knot cannot break ,nor pain nor grief intrusion make1 ,bore the sweet soul4 ,,mary ,,shipman ,,deming1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,nov4 #aath1 #ahci1 aged #d years and #f months4 ,the garner'd ,jewel of our heart1 ,the ,darling of our tent6 ,cold rains were falling thick and fast1 ,when forth from us she went4 ,the sweetest blossom on our tree1 ,when droop'd her fairy head1 ,we might not lay her 'mid the flowers1 ,for all the flowers were dead4 ,the youngest birdling of our nest1 ,her song from us hath fled2 ,yet mingles with a purer strain ,that floats above our head4 ,we gaze1--her wings we may not see3 ,we listen1--all in vain3 ,but when this wintry life is o'er1 ,we'll hear her voice again4 ,,rev4 ,,dr4 ,f4 ,w4 ,,hatch1 ,died at ,sacramento1 ,california1 ,january #afth1 #ahfj1 aged #gj4 ,a pleasant theme it is to think of him ,that parted friend1 whose noble heart and mind ,were ever active to the highest ends4 ,even sceptics paid him homage 'mid their doubts1 ,perceiving that his life made evident ,a goodness not of earth4 ,his radiant brow ,and the warm utterance of his lustrous eye ,told how the good of others triumph'd o'er ,all narrowness of self4 ,he deem'd it not ,a worthy aim of ,christ's true ministry ,to chaffer for the gold that perisheth ,or waste its ,god-given powers on lifeless forms2 ,but love of souls1 and love of ,him who died ,that they might live1 gave impulse to his zeal4 --,and so1 while half a century chronicled ,the change of empires1 and the fall of kings ,and death of generations like the leaves ,that strew the forest 'neath autumnal skies1 ,he toil'd unswerving in that ,one ,great ,cause ,to which the vigor of his youth was given4 --,and as his life1 its varied tasks well done ,shrouded its head and trustful went to ,him ,who giveth rest and peace and rich reward ,unto his faithful servants1 it behooves ,us to rejoice who have so long beheld ,his pure example4 ,from it may we learn ,oh sainted ,friend1 wherever duty calls ,with fervent hearts to seek for others' good1 ,and wear thy spirit-smile1 and win even here ,some foretaste of the bliss that ne'er shall end4 ,,mrs4 ,,payne1 ,wife of ,right ,rev4 ,bishop ,,payne1 died at ,monrovia1 ,liberia4 ,oh true and faithful6 ,twice ten earnest years ,of mission-toil in ,afric's sultry clime ,attest thy patience in thy ,master's cause1 ,thy self-denial and humility4 ,now1 neath the shadow of the princely palm1 ,and where ,liberia's church-crown'd summits rise1 ,are sighs from sable bosoms1 swelling deep ,with gratitude for all thy hallow'd care4 --,the ,prelate1 unto whom thy heart of hearts ,was link'd so tenderly1--who found in thee ,solace for exile from his native shore1 ,laments thy loss1 as the lone hours go by4 ,he mourns thee deepest1 for he knew thee best1 ,thy purity1 thy sublimated search ,for added holiness4 ,with angel hand ,press thou thy pattern on us1--we who dwell ,amid the fullness of the bread from ,heaven1 ,forgetful of our heathen brother's need4 ,now thou dost sweetly sleep1 where pain and woe ,follow thee not4 ,their trial-time is o'er1 ,their discipline perfected4 ,for thy will ,was subjugated to the ,will ,divine1 ,and through a dear ,redeemer's strength1 thy soul ,hath won the victory4 ,,mrs4 ,,mary ,,mildenstein ,,robertson1 ,wife of ,rev4 ,,william ,h4 ,c4 ,,robertson1 died at ,magnolia1 ,east ,florida1 ,january #acth1 aged #cd4 ,our buds have faded1--winter's frigid breath ,sigh'd o'er their bosoms1 and they fell away1 ,so in these household bowers the ice of death ,bids rose and lily ere their prime decay1 ,and see a ,passion-,flower from tropic skies ,beneath our drifted snows1 not without requiem lies4 ,a brilliant daughter of the ,cuban vales ,of generous mind1 impulsive1 strong and high ,twined the home-tendril where our northern gales ,sweep grove and forest with their minstrelsy1 ,labor'd for classic lore with studious part1 ,and planted friendship's germ in many an answering heart4 ,her filial piety intensely warm ,whose gushing tenderness no limit knew1 ,clasp'd day and night1 a ,mother's wasted form ,and o'er her failing powers protection threw1 ,cheering the darken'd soul with comfort sweet ,and girding it anew1 life's latest pang to meet4 ,then came the sacred vow for good or ill1 ,the life-long study of another's joy1 ,the raptur'd and unutterable thrill ,with which a mother greets her first-born boy1 ,the climax of those hopes and duties dear ,which ,heaven's unerring hand accords to ,woman's sphere4 ,and then the scene was ended1 and she found ,what here her ardent nature vainly sought1 ,unwithering flowers and music's tuneful sound ,without a shadow or discordant thought1 ,and entered through a dear ,redeemer's love ,the never-changing clime of perfect rest above4 ,,madam ,,williams1 ,widow of the late ,,ezekiel ,,williams1 ,esq41 and ,daughter of ,chief ,justice ,oliver ,ellsworth1 died at ,hartford1 ,february #bhth1 #ahfj1 aged #hg4 ,she was a link that bound us to the past1-- ,to the great days of ,washington1 when men ,loving their country better than themselves ,show'd to the world what patriot virtue meant4 ,she on the knee of her majestic sire ,drew to her listening heart when life was new ,those principles that made his honored name ,synonymous with wisdom1 and the might ,of holy truth4 ,so when in woman's sphere ,she took her post of duty1 still in all ,the delicate proprieties of life1 ,the inner sanctities of household weal1 ,in social elegance1 and in the deeds ,that christian pity to the poor extends1 ,she was our model2 and we saw in her ,the perfect lady of the olden time4 ,thus on the pleasant hill-top where she dwelt ,in her green-terraced home1 o'ercanopied ,by graceful elm1 mid evergreens and flowers1 ,the years stole over her1 and slowly wrote ,their more than fourscore on her faded scroll1 ,while the kind care of unexhausted love ,guarded her long decline4 ,and now she sleeps ,where thro' the riven snows1 the quickening turf ,gives emblem of the never-ending ,spring1 ,that wraps the accepted soul in robes of joy4 ,,samuel ,g4 ,,ogden1 ,,esq41 ,died at ,astoria1 ,new ,york1 ,april #eth1 #ahfj4 ,upon his suffering couch he lay1 ,whose noble form and mind ,the stress of fourscore years had tried1 ,yet left a charm behind4 ,the charm of heaven-born happiness ,whose beauty may not fade1 ,the charm of unimpair'd regard ,for all whom ,god had made4 ,upon his suffering couch he lay1 ,while sadly gathering there1 ,were loved and loving ones1 who made ,that honored life their care2 ,and 'mid the group1 a daughter's voice ,of wondrous sweetness read ,brief portions from the ,book ,divine1 ,as his dictation led4 ,bow down thine ear1 ,most ,merciful1 ,oh1 hearken while ,i speak1 ,now in my time of utmost need1 ,to ,thee alone ,i seek4 ,shew me some token1 ,lord1 for good1 ,before ,i pass away1 ,for ,thou hast ever been my strength1 ,my comforter and stay4#a ,so when that precious breath went forth1 ,her gentle hand was laid ,to close those pale and trembling lids ,in slumber's dreamless shade1 ,and then1 the pure and sacred flowers ,she for his burial twined1 ,and bade her struggling grief be still ,till the last rite declined4 ,through every trial change of life ,had reign'd within her breast ,a holy zeal of filial love1 ,that could not be represt2 ,its memories1 like a music strain1 ,still in that casket swell1 ,and wake perchance1 some fond response ,where watching angels dwell4 #a ,the #hfth ,psalm1 one of his favorites1 as death drew nigh was often read to him by his daughter1 who never left him1 day or night1 during his sickness1 and out of whose arms1 says one who was present1 when he drew his last breath1 the angels took him4 ,,mr4 ,,george ,,beach1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,may #dth1 #ahfj4 ,aye1 robe yourselves in black1 light messengers ,whose letter'd faces to the people tell ,the pulse and pressure of the passing hour4 ',tis fitting ye should sympathize with them1 ,and tint your tablets with a sable hue ,who bring them tidings of a loss so great4 ,what have they lost8 ,an upright man1 who scorn'd ,all subterfuge1 who faithful to his trust ,guarded the interests they so highly prized1 ,with power and zeal unchang'd1 from youth to age4 ,yet there's a sadder sound of bursting tears ,from woe-worn helpless ones1 from widow'd forms ,o'er whom he threw a shelter1 for his name ,long mingled with their prayers1 both night and morn4 ,the ,missionary toward the setting sun ,will miss his liberal hand that threw so wide ,its secret alms4 ,the sons of want will miss ,his noble presence moving thro' our streets ,intent on generous deeds2 and in the ,church ,he loved so well1 a silence and a chasm ,are where the fervent and responsive voice1 ,and kingly beauty of the hoary head ,so long maintained their place4 ,sudden he sank1 ,though not unwarn'd4 ,a chosen band had kept ,watch through the night1 and earnest love took note ,of every breath4 ,but when approaching dawn ,kindled the east1 and from the trees that bowered ,his beautiful abode1 awakening birds ,sent up their earliest carol1 he went forth ,to meet the glories of the unsetting sun1 ,and hear with unseal'd ear the song of heaven4 --,so they who truest loved and deepest mourn'd1 ,had highest call to praise1 for best they knew ,the soul that had gone home unto its ,god4 ,,miss ,,margaret ,c4 ,,brown1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,may #abth1 #ahfj4 ,gone1 pure in heart6 unto thy fitting home1 ,where nought of ill can follow4 ,o'er thy life ,there swept no stain1 and o'er its placid close ,no shadow4 ,as for us1 who saw thee move ,from childhood onward1 loving and serene1 ,to every duty faithful1 we who feel ,the bias toward self too often make ,our course unequal1 or beset with thorns1 ,give thanks to ,him1 the ,giver of all good1 ,for what thou wert1 but most for what thou art4 99 99 99 99 99 ,thy meek and reverent nature cheer'd the heart ,of hoary ,age even in thine early bloom1 ,and with sweet tenderness of filial care1 ,and perfect sympathy1 thy shielding arm ,pillow'd a ,mother's head1 till life went out4 ,we yield thee back1 with sound of holy hymns1 ,flowers in thy hand1 and bosom1--parting gifts ,of ,spring1 that makes our earth so beautiful1 ,faintly prefiguring thine eternal gain ,of flowers that never fade and skies that need ,not sun nor moon to light them4 ,so farewell1 ,our grief is selfish1 yet it hath its way1 ,nor can we stand beside thine open grave ,without a tear4 ,yet still doth chasten'd faith ,ask help of ,god1 to render back with praise ,a soul to which ,he gave the victory4 ,,miss ,,frances ,,wyman ,,tracy1 ,adopted daughter of ,mrs4 ,,william ,,tracy1 died at ,new ,york1 in #ahfj1 aged #ag4 ,o young and beautiful1 thy step ,was light with fairy grace1 ,and well the music of thy voice ,accorded with thy face1 ,and blent with those attractive charms ,how fair it was to see ,thy tenderness for her who fill'd ,a ,mother's place to thee4 ,yet all the pure and holy ties ,thus round thy being wove1 ,they are not lost1 they are not dead1 ,they have a life above4 ,what though the sleepless care of love ,might not avail to save1 ,and sorrow with her dropping tear ,keeps vigil o'er thy grave1 ,faith hath a rainbow for the cloud1 ,a solace for the pain1 ,a promise from the ,book ,divine ,to rise1 nor part again4 ,,deacon ,,normand ,,smith1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,may #bb;d1 #ahfj1 aged #hg4 ,one saintly man the less1 to teach us how ,wisely to live1--one blest example more ,to teach us how to die4 ,fourscore and seven1 ,swept not the beauty of his brow away1 ,nor quell'd his voice of music1 nor impair'd ,the social feeling that through all his life ,ran like a thread of gold4 ,in filial arms ,close wrapp'd with watchful tenderness1 he trod ,jordan's cold brink4 ,the world was beautiful1 ,but ,christ's dear love so wrought within his heart ,that to depart seem'd better4 ,many a year ,he lent his influence to the church he loved1 ,for unity and peace1 and countless gems ,dropp'd from his lips when the last sickness came1 ,to fortify young pilgrims in the course ,that leads to glory and eternal life4 ,as the frail flesh grew weak1 the soul look'd forth ,with added brightness thro' the clear1 dark eye1 ,as though it saw unutterable things1 ,or heard the welcome of beloved ones ,who went to rest before him4 ,so1 with smiles1 ,and prayers and holy hymns1 and loving words ,he laid the burden of the body down1 ,and slept in ,jesus4 ,,mrs4 ,,helen ,,tyler ,,beach1 ,wife of ,mr4 ,c4 ,n4 ,,beach1 died at ,philadelphia1 ,july #cjth1 #ahfj4 ,how strange that ,one who yesterday ,shed radiance round her sphere1 ,thus1 in the prime of life and health1 ,should slumber on the bier4 ,how sad that ,one who cheer'd her home ,with love's unvarying grace1 ,should leave at hearth-stone and at board ,nought save a vacant place4 ,the beaming hope that bright and fair ,around her cradle shone1 ,made cloudless progress year by year1 ,with lustre all its own1 ,while still unselfish and serene ,her daily course she drew1 ,to every generous impulse warm ,to every duty true3 ,yet all these pure and hallowed charms ,to favor'd mortals given1 ,that make their loss to earth so great1 ,enhance the gain of ,heaven4 ,,mrs4 ,,elizabeth ,,harris1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,sunday evening1 ,september #ith1 #ahfj1 aged #hj4 ,oh sorrowing ,daughter1 left alone ,in home's deserted sphere1 ,where every object group'd around1 ,in pleasant room1 or garden's bound ,is twined by links of sight or sound ,with the lost ,mother dear2 ,yet take sweet thoughts thy grief to soothe ,of what she was below1 ,her years to faithful duty given1 ,her comfort in the ,book of ,heaven1 ,her ready trust when life was riven1 ,to ,christ1 her ,lord1 to go4 ,and take sweet memories of the care ,that smoothed her couch of pain1 ,the grateful love that o'er her way ,kept tender vigil1 night and day1 ,and let its pure1 reflected ray ,thy drooping heart sustain4 ,so shall thy faith the pang assuage ,that heaves thy mourning breast2 ,for nearer brings each setting sun ,their blessed meeting who have won ,the plaudit of the ,judge1 ,well done1 ,come1 enter to my rest4 ,,miss ,,anna ,m4 ,,seymour1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,august #bdth1 #ahfj4 ,the beauteous brow1 the form of grace1 ,with all their youthful charms1 ,the hand that woke the pencil's power1 ,and bore to penury's lowly bower1 ,the never-wearied alms1 ,the sweet1 sweet voice that duly cheer'd ,a grateful ,sabbath train1 ,the uprais'd eye that taught them more ,of ,heaven1 than all their student lore1 ,must ne'er return again4 ,she took her flight as from the cage ,enfranchised warblers glide1 ,though friends were dear1 and life was fair1 ,she saw her ,saviour standing there1 ,beyond rough ,jordan's tide4 ,praise1 praise to ,him1 whose faithful hand ,prepared her glorious place1 ,for us is loss1--for her release1 ,the robe of rest1 the home of peace1-- ,for us1 the pilgrim race4 ,praise1--praise for her1--though love and grief ,still mournful vigil kept1-- ,the tear-wet incense ,he will take ,who at the grave1 for friendship's sake1 ,in holy sadness wept4 ,,caleb ,,hazen ,,talcott1 ,son of ,c4 ,,talcott1 ,esq41 died at ,hartford1 ,october #bfth1 #ahfj1 aged #b years and #f months4 ,there came a merry voice ,forth from those lips of rose1 ,as tireless through its fringing flowers ,the tuneful brooklet flows1 ,and with the nurslings feet ,engaged in busy play ,it made the parents' pleasant home ,a joyance all the day4 ,there breath'd a languid tone ,forth from those pallid lips1 ,as when some planet of the night ,sinks in its dread eclipse4 ,sing to me1 sing1 it cried1 ,while the red fever reign'd1 ,oh sing of ,jesus1#a it implored ,while struggling life remained4 ,then rose a mournful sound1 ,the solemn funeral knell1 ,and silent anguish settled where ,the nursery's idol fell4 ,but he who so desired ,his ,saviour's name to hear ,doth in ,his glorious presence smile1 ,above this cloud-wrapp'd sphere4 #a ,his request1 during his sickness was1 ,sing to me of ,jesus4 ,,miss ,,jane ,,penelope ,,whiting1 ,died at ,portland1 ,connecticut1 ,january #ast1 #ahfa4 ,i think of her unfolding prime1 ,her childhood bright and fair1 ,the speaking eye1 the earnest smile1 ,the dark and lustrous hair1 ,the fondness by a ,mother's side ,to cling with docile mind1 ,fast in the only sister's hand ,her own forever twined1 ,the candor of her trustful youth1 ,the heart that freshly wove ,sweet garlands even from thorn-clad bowers1 ,because it dwelt in love1 ,the stainless life1 whose truth and grace ,made each beholder see ,the gladness of a spirit tuned ,to heavenly harmony4 ,but when this fair ,new-,year looked forth ,over the old one's grave1 ,while bridal pleasures neath her roof ,their bright infusion gave1 ,upon the lightning's wing there came ,a message none might stay1 ,an angel1--standing at her side4 ,to bear the soul away4 ,for us1 was sorrow's startling shock1 ,the tear1 the loss1 the pain1 ,for her1 the uncomputed bliss ,of never-ending gain4 ,,miss ,,anna ,,freeman1 ,died at ,mansfield1 ,connecticut1 ,february1 #ahfa4 ,the world seems drearier when the good depart1 ,the just1 the truthful1 such as never made ,self their chief aim1 nor strove with glozing words ,to counterfeit a love they never felt2 ,but steadfast and serene--to ,friendship gave ,its sacred scope1 and ne'er from ,duty shrank1 ,though sternest toil and care environ it4 ,these1 loving others better than themselves1 ,fulfill the gospel rule1 and taste a bliss ,while here below1 unknown to selfish souls1 ,and when they die1 must find the clime where dwells ,a ,god of truth1 as tend the kindred streams ,to their absorbing ocean4 ,such was she ,who left us yesterday4 ,her speaking smile ,her earnest footstep hastening to give aid ,or sympathy1 her ready hand well-skill'd ,in all that appertains to ,woman's sphere1 ,her large heart pouring life o'er every deed1 ,and her warm interchange of social joy ,stay with us as a picture4 ,there1 we oft ,musing1 shall contemplate each lineament ,with mournful tenderness1 through gushing tears1 ,that tell our loss1 and her unmeasured gain4 ,,madam ,,pond1 ,widow of the late ,,caleb ,,pond1 ,esq41 died at ,hartford1 ,february #aith #ahfa1 aged #gc4 ,would any think who marked the smile ,on yon untroubled face1 ,that threescore years and ten had fled ,without a wrinkling trace8 ,yet age doth sometimes skill to guard ,the beauty of its prime1 ,and hold a quenchless lamp above ,the water-floods of time4 ,and she1 for whom we mourn1 maintained ,through every change and care1 ,those hallowed virtues of the soul ,that keep the features fair4 ,they raised a little child to look ,into the coffin deep1 ,who dream'd the lovely lady lay ,but in a transient sleep1 ,and gazed upon the face of death ,with eye of tranquil ray1 ,well pleased1 as with the snowy flowers1 ,that on her bosom lay4 ,then on the sad procession moved1 ,and mid funereal gloom1 ,the only son was there to lay ,his mother in the tomb4 ,oh1 memories of an only child1 ,how strong and rich ye are6 ,a wealth of concentrated love ,that none beside can share4 ,and hence1 the filial grief that swells1 ,when breaks its latest tie1 ,flows onward with a fuller tide ,than meets the common eye4 ,with voice of holy prayer she pass'd ,forth from her pleasant door1 ,where tender recollections dwell ,though she returns no more4 ,even so the pure and pious rise ,from tents of pain and woe1 ,but leave a precious transcript here ,to guide us where they go4 ,,annie ,,seymour ,,robinson1 ,daughter of ,,lucius ,f4 ,,robinson and ,mrs4 ,,eliza ,s4 ,,robinson1 died at ,hartford1 ,wednesday1 ,april #ajth1 #ahfa1 aged #f years and #b months4 ,dids't hear him call1 my beautiful8-- ,the ,sire1 so fond and dear ,who ere the last moon's waning ray1 ,pass'd in his prime of days away1 ,and hath not left his peer8 ,say1 beckoning from yon silver cloud ,though none beside might see1 ,a hand that erst with love and pride ,its little daughter's steps would guide-- ,stretch'd out that hand for thee8 ,the wreathing buds of snowy rose ,that o'er thy bosom lay1 ,were symbols in their beauty pale1 ,of thy young life so sweet and frail1 ,and all unstain'd as they4 ,oh stricken hearts6--bear up1--bear on1-- ,think of your ,saviour's grace1 ,think of the spirit-welcome given1 ,when at the pearly gate of ,heaven1 ,father and child embrace4 ,,mrs4 ,,georgiana ,,ives ,,comstock1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,april #cjth1 #ahfa1 aged #bb4 ,i saw a brilliant bridal4 ,all that cheers ,and charms the leaping heart of youth was there2 ,and she1 the central object of the group1 ,the cherished song-bird of her father's house1 ,array'd in beauty1 was the loved of all4 ,would ,i could tell you what a world of flowers ,were concentrated there--how they o'erflow'd ,in wreaths and clusters--how they climb'd and swept ,from vase to ceiling1 with their gay festoons ,whispering each other in their mystic lore ,of fragrance1 and consulting how to swell1 ,as best they might1 the tide of happiness4 ,a few brief moons departed and ,i sought ,the same abode4 ,there was a gather'd throng ,beyond the threshold stone4 ,a few white flowers ,crept o'er a bosom and a gentle hand ,that clasp'd them not4 ,a holy hymn awoke ,in plaintive melody2 but she who breath'd ,the very soul of music from her birth1 ,lay there with close-seal'd lips4 ,and the same voice ,that in the flushing of the autumnal rose ,gladly pronounced the irrevocable words ,what ,god hath join'd together let no man ,asunder put1 now1 in the chasten'd tones ,of deep humility and tenderness1 ,strove1 from the armory of ,heaven1 to gird ,the hearts that freshly bled4 ,at close of day1 ,in the lone1 sadden'd hour of musing thought1 ,i seem'd to view a scene where1 side by side1 ,bridals and burials gleam'd--the smile and tear-- ,anguish and joy--peace in her heavenly vest1 ,and brazen-throated war--and heard a cry1 ,such is man's life below4 ,i would have wept1 ,save that a symphony of harps unseen ,broke from a hovering cloud2 ,lo6 we are they ,who from earth's tribulation rose and found ,our robes made white4 ,henceforth we grieve no more4 ,list6 ,list6 ,she mingleth in that raptur'd strain ,who said so sweetly to her spirit's-guide1 ,that the dear ,lord whom she had early serv'd ,stood near in her extremity1 and gave ,her soul full willingness to leave a world ,all bright with beauty1 and requited love4 ,and so ,death lost his victory1 tho' he snatched ,the unwither'd garland out of ,hymen's hand1 ,and wound it in cold mockery round the tomb4 ,,wentworth ,,alexander1 ,son of ,dr4 ,,william and ,mrs4 ,,mary ,,wentworth ,,alexander1 died at ,fayette1 ,iowa1 ,may1 #ahfa1 aged #b years4 ,coming in from play1 he laid his head on his mother's bosom1 and said ,mama1 take your boy1--boy tired1 and never looked up healthfully again4 ,boy tired6 the drooping infant said1 ,and meekly laid his noble head1 ,down on that shielding breast1 ,which mid all change of grief1 or wo1 ,had been his ,paradise below1 ,his comforter and rest4 ,boy tired6 ,alas for nursing ,love1 ,that sleepless toiled and watched and strove1 ,for dire disease portends4 ,alas for ,science and its skill ,opposed to his unpitying will ,this mortal span that rends4 ,boy tired6 ,so thou hast past away1 ,from heat and burden of the day1 ,from snares that manhood knows1-- ,from want and wo and deadly strife1 ,from wrong1 and weariness of life1 ,hast found serene repose4 ,boy tired6 ,those words of parting pain ,thou never more wilt breathe again1 ,nor lift the moaning cry1 ,for naught to wound or vex1 or cloy1 ,invades the cherub home of joy1 ,no shade obscures the sky4 ,o1 mother6 ,when above ye meet1 ,when all these years1 so few and fleet1 ,fade like a mist away1 ,this sorrow that thy soul hath bowed1 ,shall seem but as an ,april cloud1 ,before the noon-tide ray4 ,,mrs4 ,,harvey ,,seymour1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,sunday1 ,may #eth1 #ahfa4 ,she found a painless avenue to make ,the great transition from a world of care ,to one of rest4 ,it was the ,sabbath day1 ,and beautiful with smile of vernal sun ,and the up-springing fragrance from the earth1 ,with all that soothing quietude which links ,the consecrated season unto ,him ,who bade the creatures ,he had made1 revere ,and keep it holy4 ,from her fair abode1 ,lovely with early flowers1 she took her way ,the second time1 unto the ,house of ,god1 ,and side by side with her life's chosen friend ,walk'd cheerfully4 ,within those hallow'd courts1 ,where holds the soul communion with its ,god1 ,she listening sate4 ,but then she lean'd her head ,upon her husband's shoulder1 and unmark'd ,by one distorted feature1 by the loss ,or blanching of the rose-tint on her cheek1 ,rose to more perfect worship4 ,it might seem ,as if a sacred temple1 purified ,by prayers and praises1 were a place sublime1 ,of fitting sanctity1 wherein to hear ,the inexpressive call that summoneth ,the ready spirit upward4 ,but the change ,in her delightful home1 what words can tell6 ,the shock and contrast1 when a mind so skill'd ,with order and efficiency to fill ,each post of woman's duty and of love1 ,vanished from all its daily ministries1 ,and the lone daughter found the guiding voice ,silent forevermore4 ,her's was the heart ,for an unswerving friendship1 warm and true1 ,and self-forgetful2 her's the liberal hand ,to those who pine in cells of poverty1 ,the knowledge of their state1 the will to aid1 ,the thought that cared for them1 the zeal that blest4 ,hence1 tears o'er rugged cheeks fell fast for her1 ,and the old white-hair'd pensioner knelt down ,beside her lifeless clay and cross'd himself1 ,and pour'd his desolate prayer2 for her kind heart ,saw in the creed of varying sects no bar ,to charity1 but in their time of need ,held all as brethren4 ',twas a pleasant spot1 ,amid fresh verdure1 where they laid her down1 ,while the young plants that o'er a daughter's grave ,took summer-rooting seemed in haste to reach ,forth their incipient roots and tendrils green ,to broider her turf-pillow4 ,sleep in peace1 ,ye1 whom the ties of nature closely bound1 ,and death disparted for a little while1 ,mother and gentle daughter1 sleep in peace2 ,your forms engraven deep on loving hearts1 ,as with a diamond's point1 till memory fade4 ,,mrs4 ,,frederick ,,tyler1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,wednesday1 ,june #aith1 #ahfa4 ,they multiply above1 with whom we walk'd ,in tender friendship1 and whose steadfast step1 ,onward and upward1 was a guide to us ,in duty's path4 ,they multiply above1 ,making the mansions that our ,lord prepared ,and promised ,his redeemed1 more beautiful ,to us1 the wayside pilgrims4 ,one1 this day ,hath gone1 whose memory like a loving smile ,lingereth behind her4 ,she was skilled to charm ,and make her pleasant home a cloudless scene ,of happiness to children and to guests2 ,but most to him whose heart for many years ,did safely trust in her1 finding his cares ,divided and his pleasures purified4 ,a sweet-voiced kindness1 prompting word and deed1 ,dwelt ever with her2 and1 when hours of pain ,narrowed the scope of her activities1 ,its radiance comforted the friends who came ,to comfort her4 ,with soul serenely calm ,she felt the cherished ties of earth recede ,that long had bound her in such fond control1 ,and with a hymn upon her whitening lip1 ,a thrilling cadence tremulously sweet1 ,into the valley of the shade of death ,entered unshrinkingly4 ,how blest to rise ,with song of praise1 unto that tuneful choir ,whose harps are ne'er unstrung1 and have no tone ,of weary dissonance4 ,the rose of ,june ,was in its flushing1 and a few brief moons ,had cast upon her lovely daughter's grave ,their hallowed lustre1 when we laid so low ,her perishable part1 seeming to hear ,their chant of welcome1 unto whom the ,sun ,no more goes down1 and partings are unknown4 ,,miss ,,laura ,,kingsbury1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,july1 #ahfa4 ,faithful and true in duty's sacred sphere1 ,how like the summer-lightning hath she fled6 ,one moment bending o'er the letter'd page1-- ,the next reposing with the silent dead4 ,no more by shaded lamp1 or garden fair2-- ,yet hath she left a living transcript here1 ,yon helpless orphans will remember her1#a ,and the young invalid she skilled to cheer2 ,and he who trusted in her from his birth1 ,as to a ,mother's love1--and friends who saw ,her goodness seeking no applause from earth1 ,but ever steadfast to its heavenly law3 ,for she1 like her of old1 with listening ear ,sate at the ,saviour's feet and won ,his plaudit dear4 #a ,she was a judicious and faithful manager of the ,female ,beneficent ,society of ,hartford4 ,,governor ,,joseph ,,trumbull1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,august #dth1 #ahfa2 and his wife1 ,mrs4 ,,eliza ,,storrs ,,trumbull1 the night after his funeral4 ,death's shafts fly thick1 and love a noble mark4 --,and one hath fallen who bore upon his shield ,the name and lineage of an honor'd race ,who gave us rulers in those ancient days ,where truth stood first and gain was left behind4 --,his was the type of character that makes ,republics strong1--unstain'd fidelity1-- ,a dignity of mind that mark'd unmov'd ,the unsought honors clustering round his path1 ,and chang'd them into duties4 ,with firm step ,on the high places of the earth he walk'd1 ,serving his ,country1 not to share her spoils1 ,nor pamper with exciting eloquence ,a parasite ambition4 ,with clear eye ,and cautious speech1 and judgment never warp'd ,by fancy or enthusiasm1 he pursued ,an even1 upright course4 ,his bounties sought ,unostentatious channels1 and he loved ,to help the young who strove to help themselves1 ,aiding their oar against opposing tides1 ,into the smooth1 broad waters4 ,thus flow'd on ,his almost fourscore years1--levying slight tax ,on form or mind1 while self-forgetful still1 ,he rose to prop the sad1 or gird the weak4 --,yet1 when at last1 in deep repose he lay1 ,his classic features1 and unfurrow'd brow1 ,wearing the symmetry of earlier days ,which ,death1 as if relenting1 render'd back ,in transitory gleam1 'twas sweet to hear ,his aged ,pastor at the coffin-side ,bearing full tribute to his piety ,so many lustrums1 that consistent faith ,which nerv'd his journey and had led him home4 ,home8--,yes6 ,give thanks1 ye1 who still travel on1 ,oft startled1 as some pilgrim from your side ,falls through the arches of ,time's broken bridge ,without a warning1 and is seen no more-- ,give thanks that he is safe1--at home1--in heaven4 99 99 99 99 99 ,back to the grave1 from whence ye scarce have turn'd1 ,break up the clods on which the dews of night ,but twice had rested4 ,lo6 another comes4 ,she1 who for many years had garner'd up ,her heart's chief strength in him1 finding his love ,armor and solace1 in all weal or woe1 ,seem'd the world poor without him1 that she made ,such haste to join him in the spirit-land8 ,through the dark valley of the shade of death1 ,treading so close behind him8 ,scarce his lip ,learn'd the new song of heaven1 before she rose ,to join the enraptur'd strain4 ,her earthly term ,of fair and faithful duty well perform'd1 ,in fear of ,god1 and true good will to man1 ,how blessed thus to enter perfect rest1 ,where is no shadow of infirmity1 ,nor fear of change1 but happy souls unite ,in high ascriptions to redeeming ,love4 99 99 99 99 99 ,and thou1#a sole daughter of their house and heart1 ,leading thy mournful little ones to look ,into the open and insatiate tomb1 ,with what a rushing tide thy sorrows came4 --,the sudden smiting1 in his glorious prime ,of him who held the key of all thy joys1-- ,the fair child following him1--the noble ,friend ,who watch'd thee with parental pride1--and now ,father and ,mother have forsaken thee4 --,the lessons of a life-long pilgrimage ,thou hast achiev'd1 while yet a few brief moons ,with waning finger1 as in mockery wrote ,of treasur'd hopes1 more fleeting than their own4 --,but mays't thou from these sterner teachings gain ,a higher seat1 where no o'ershadowing cloud ,veileth the purpose of ,god's discipline4 ,and mid their glad embrace1--the gone before1-- ,the re-united ne'er to part1--behold ,the teaching of no bitter precept lost1 ,nor tear-sown seed fail of its harvest crown4 #a ,mrs4 ,eliza ,s4 ,robinson1 the only child of ,governor and ,mrs4 ,trumbull1 whose early life had been a scene of singularly unbroken felicity1 was appointed to a fearful contrast of rapid and severe bereavements4 ,her noble husband1 ,lucius ,f4 ,robinson1 ,esq41 in the midst of his days and usefulness1 was suddenly smitten1--immediately after1 their beautiful child1 ,annie ,seymour1--then her distinguished relative1 ,chief ,justice ,storrs1 who from her birth had regarded her with a fatherly love2 and then both her parents1 side by side1 almost hand in hand1 passed to the tomb4 ,with unsurpassed calmness1 she met this whelming tide of sorrow1 girding herself to her maternal duties1 in tho armor of a disciple of ,jesus ,christ4 ,yet with little warning1 she was herself soon summoned to follow those beloved ones1 dying in ,august1 #ahfb1 at the age of #ce1 leaving three orphan daughters1 and a large circle of friends to lament the loss of her beautiful example of every christian grace and virtue4 ,,mrs4 ,,emily ,,ellsworth1 ,wife of ,govenor ,,ellsworth1 and daughter of ,noah ,webster1 ,,ll4,d41 died at ,hartford1 ,august #bc;d1 #ahfa4 ,not with the common forms of funeral grief ,we mourn for her who in the tomb this day ,taketh her narrow couch4 ,for we have need ,of such example as she set us here1 ,the sphere of christian duty beautified ,by gifts of intellect1 and taste refined2 ,a precious picture1 set in frame of gold ,and hung on high4 ,hers was a life that bore ,the test of scrutiny1 and they who saw ,its inner ministration1 day by day1 ,bore fullest witness to its symmetry1 ,its delicate tissues1 and unwavering crown ,of piety4 ,a heritage of fame1 ,and the rich culture of her early years ,wrought no contempt for woman's household care1 ,but gave it dignity4 ,order was hers1 ,and system1 and an industry that weighed ,the priceless value of each fleeting hour4 ,hers was a charm of manner felt by all1 ,a reference for authorities that marked ,the olden time1 and that true courtesy ,which made the aged happy4 ,scarce it seemed ,that she was of their number1 or the links ,of threescore years and ten1 indeed had wound ,their coil around her1 with such warmth the heart1 ,and cloudless mind retained their energies4 ,beauty and grace were with her to the last1 ,and fascination that withheld the guest ,beyond the allotted time4 ,more would we say1 ,but her affections 'tis not ours to touch ,in lays so weak4 ,he of their worth might tell1 ,whose dearest hopes so long with hers entwined1 ,and they who shared the intense maternal love1 ,that knew no pause of effort1 no decay1 ,no weariness1 but glazed the dying eye ,with heaven-born lustre4 ,so1 we bid farewell2 ,friend and ,exemplar1 we who tread so close ,in thine unechoing footsteps4 ,be thy faith ,as strong for us1 when we the bridge shall pass ,to the grand portal of ,eternity4 ,,rev4 ,,stephen ,,jewitt1 ,d4,d41 ,died at ,new ,haven1 ,august #beth1 #ahfa1 aged #gh4 ,i well remember him1 and heard his voice ,in vigorous prime1 beneath the ,temple-,arch1 ,his brow enkindling with its holy themes4 ,and ,i remember to have heard it said ,in what a patient studiousness of toil ,his youth had pass'd1 and how his manhood's tent ,spread out its curtains joyously1 to shield ,his aged parents1 from their lonely home ,amid the glory of the ,berkshire hills1 ,turning in tender confidence to him2 ,and giving scope to earn the boon that crowns ,the fifth commandment of the decalogue4 --,and this he did1 for their departing prayer ,fell balmily upon his filial heart1 ,as when the dying ,jacob1 blessed his race ,and worshipp'd1 leaning on his patriarch-staff4 --,his lengthened life amid a peaceful scene ,flow'd on1 with loving memories4 ,he had serv'd ,the ,church he lov'd1 not in luxurious ease1 ,but self-forgetful as a pioneer1 ,when she had fewer sons to build her walls1 ,or teach her gates salvation4 ,and the dome ,of yon fair ,college on its classic heighth ,so beautiful without1 and blest within1-- ,by liberal deeds1 as well as gracious words ,remembereth him and with recording pen ,upon the tablet of its earliest#a friends ,engraves his name4 ,so1 full of honor'd years1 ,blessing and blest1 he took his way1 above4 #a ,the ,rev4 ,dr4 ,jewitt was tho first founder of a scholarship in ,trinity ,college1 ,hartford1 a quarter of a century since4 ,,miss ,,delia ,,woodruff ,,godding1 ,a faithful ,teacher of the young from early years1 and recently the ,principal of a ,female ,seminary and ,boarding ,school at ,st4 ,anthony1 ,minnesota1 died suddenly of an attack of fever1 while on a visit at her paternal home in ,vermont1 ,september1 #aeth1 #ahfa4 ,thine earnest life is over1 sainted ,friend6 ,and hush'd the teaching voice that gladly pour'd ,knowledge and goodness o'er the plastic mind4 --,full many a pupil of thy varied lore ,amid thine own ,new-,england's elm-crowned vales ,holds thee in tenderness of grateful thought1 ,and far away in the broad-featured west ,where the strong ,sire of waters robes in green ,the shores of ,minnesota1 comes a wail ,from youthful bands expecting thy return1 ,to guide them1 as the shepherd leads the lamb4 ,they watch in vain4 ,the pleasant halls are dark ,once lighted by thy smile1 and flowing tears ,reveal the love that linger'd there for thee4 ,said we thy life was o'er8 ,forgive the words4 ,we take them back4 ,thou hast begun to live4 ,here was the budding1 there the perfect flower1 ,here the faint star1 and there the unsetting sun1 ,here the scant preface1 there the open ,book ,where angels read forever4 99 99 99 99 99 ,here on the threshold1 the dim vestibule ,thou with a faithful hand didst toil to tune ,that harp of praise within the unfolding heart ,which 'neath the temple-arch not made with hands ,swells the full anthem of ,eternity4 ,,miss ,,sara ,k4 ,,taylor1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,october #bc;d1 #ahfa1 aged #bj4 ,how beautiful in death ,the young and lovely sleeper lies-- ,sweet calmness on the close-sealed eyes1 ,flowers o'er the snowy neck and brow ,where lustrous curls profusely flow2 ,if 'twere not for the icy chill ,that from her marble hand doth thrill1 ,and for her lip that gives no sound1 ,and for the weeping all around1 ,how beautiful were death4 ,how beautiful in life6 ,her pure affections heavenward moving1 ,her guileless heart so full of loving1 ,her joyous smile1 her form of grace1 ,her clear mind lighting up the face1 ,and making home a blessed place1 ,still breathing thro' the parents' heart ,a gladness words could ne'er impart1 ,a faith that foil'd affliction's dart-- ,how beautiful her life4 ,gone to the ,better ,land6 ,before the world's cold mist could shade ,the brightness on her spirit laid1 ,before the autumnal breeze might fray ,one leaflet from her wreath away1 ,or crisp one tendril of the vine ,that hope and happiness did twine-- ,gone--in the soul's unfaded bloom ,that dreads no darkness of the tomb-- ,gone to the ,better ,land4 ,,mr4 ,,john ,,warburton1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,november1 #ahfa4 ,the knot of crape upon yon stately door1 ,and sadness brooding o'er the sun-bright halls1 ,what do they signify8 ,death hath been there ,where truth and goodness hand in hand with love ,walk'd for so many years4 ,death hath been there1 ,to do mid flowing tears his mighty work1 ,extinguishing the tyranny of pain ,and taking the immortal essence home ,where it would be4 ,yet is there left behind ,a transcript that we cherish1 and a chasm ,we have no power to fill4 ,almost it seems ,that we beheld him still1 with quiet step ,moving among us1 saintly and serene1 ,clear-sighted1 upright1 held in high regard1 ,yet meekly unambitious1 seeking nought ,of windy honor from the mouth of men ,but with the ,gospel's perfect code content1 ,breathing good-will to all4 ,freely his wealth ,wrought blessed channels mid the sons of need1 ,lending ,philanthropy and ,piety ,a stronger impulse in their mission-course ,to ameliorate and save4 ,so1 thus intent ,on higher deeds and aims than earth supplies1 ,an adept in that true philosophy ,learnt only in ,christ's school1 he calmly went ,unto his ,master and the ,class above4 ,,rev4 ,,henry ,,albertson ,,post1 ,died at ,warrensburgh1 ,new ,york1 ,november #abth1 #ahfa1 aged #bf4 #a,read me rejoicing ,psalms1 ,oh dearest one1 and best6 ,i go from war to peace1 ,from pain to glorious rest1 ,where the bright life-tree sheds ,around its precious balms1 ,so1 while ,i linger here ,read me rejoicing psalms4 ,and when my place ,i take ,amid the ransom'd throng ,who through a ,saviour's love ,uplift the immortal song1 ,repress the tear of grief ,that washes faith away1 ,and brave in zeal and love ,await our meeting-day4 ,yes1 let thy course below ,through all its fleeting days ,in its angelic ministries ,be as a psalm of praise4 #a ,his request of his wife during the sufferings of an acute dyptheria1 which suddenly separated him from an attached people1 was1 ,read me rejoicing ,psalms4 ,,miss ,,caroline ,l4 ,,griffin1 ,died at ,new ,york1 ,november #agth1 #ahfa4 ,,written ,,on ,,her ,,birth-,,day4 ,the day returns1 beloved friend ,when in thy ,mother's arms ,thou a fair gift from ,heaven wert laid ,in all thine infant charms1 ,that day1 with cloudless sky returns1 ,but yet thou art not here ,and from the smitten ,mother's eye ,distils the mourner's tear4 ,the wondrous brightness of thy smile1 ,thy tones of greeting kind1 ,the love of knowledge that inspired ,thy strong and ardent mind1 ,thy pity for the suffering poor1 ,thy patient zeal to teach ,their children1 though in manners rude ,and ignorant in speech1 ,and all thy many deeds and words ,of friendship's earnest part1 ,are with a never-fading trace ,depictured on my heart4 ,but thou art with that ,saviour dear ,who was thine early choice1 ,and mid thy blooming youth didst bend ,a listener to ,his voice1 ,so thy firm faith without a fear ,launch'd forth on ,jordan's wave ,the victor-palm-branch in thy hand ,that o'er stern ,death ,he gave2 ,and may we meet1 beloved friend ,at ,god's appointed day ,where every care and pain of earth ,have fled like dreams away4 ,,mr4 ,,normand ,,burr1 ,editor of the ,christian ,secretary for more than twenty years1 died at ,hartford1 ,december #eth1 aged #ei4 ,we knew him as a man of sterling worth1 ,whose good example is a legacy ,better than gold for those he leaves behind4 --,his inborn piety flowed forth in streams ,of social kindness and domestic love1 ,cheering with filial warmth the parents' heart1 ,and making his own home a pleasant place4 --,his was that self-reliant industry1 ,smiling at hardship1 which develops well ,the energies of manhood1 and lends strength ,to commonwealths4 ,by silent messenger1 ,a weekly scroll1 he strove to spread abroad ,the stores of knowledge1 and increase the fruits ,of righteousness4 ,hence is his loss bemoan'd ,by many who had never seen his face ,here in the flesh1 but thro' the links of thought ,held intimate communion4 ,the true life ,of virtue1 is not lost to men below1 ,though smitten by the frost of death it fall1-- ,its quickening memory survives1 to gird ,on in the heavenward race1 and gently guide ,where the high plaudit of the ,judge is won4 ,,hon4 ,,thomas ,s4 ,,williams1 ,late ,chief ,justice of ,connecticut1 died at ,hartford1 on ,sunday morning1 ,december #aeth1 #ahfa1 aged #hd4 ',tis not for pen and ink1 ,or the weak measures of the muse1 to give ,fit transcript of his virtues who hath risen ,up from our midst this day4 ,and yet 'twere sad ,if such example were allow'd to fleet ,without abiding trace for those behind4 ,to stand on earth's high places1 in the garb ,of ,christian meekness1 yet to comprehend ,and track the tortuous policies of guile ,with upright aim1 and heart immaculate1 ,to pass just sentence on the wiles of fraud1 ,and deeds of wickedness1 yet freshly keep ,the fountain of good-will to all mankind1 ,to mark for more than fourscore years1 a line ,of light without a mist1 are victories ,not oft achiev'd by frail humanity1 ,yet were they his4 ,of charities that knew ,no stint or boundary1 save the woes of man ,he wish'd no mention made4 ,but doubt ye not ,their record is above4 ,without the tax ,that age doth levy1 on the eye or ear1 ,movement of limbs1 or social sympathies1 ,in sweet retirement of domestic joy ,his calm1 unshadow'd pilgrimage was closed ,by an unsighing transit4 ,our first wintry morn ,lifted its ,sabbath face1 and saw him sit ,all reverent1 at the table of his ,lord1 ,and heard that kindly modulated voice ,teaching ,heaven's precepts to a youthful class ,which erst with statesman's eloquence controll'd ,a different audience4 ,the next holy day ,wondering beheld his place at church unfill'd1 ,and found him drooping in his peaceful home1 ,guarded by tenderest love4 ,but on the third1 ,while the faint dawn was struggling to o'ercome ,the lingering splendors of a full-orb'd moon1 ,the curtains of his tent were gently raised ,and he had gone1--gone1--mourn'd by every heart ,among the people4 ,they had seen in him ,the truth personified1 and felt the worth ,of such a ,mentor4 ',twere impiety ,to let the harp of praise in silence lie1 ,we who beheld so beautiful a life ,complete its perfect circle4 ,praise to ,him ,who gave him power in ,christ's dear name to pass ,unharm'd1 the dangerous citadel of time1 ,unsullied1 o'er its countless snares to rise ,from earthly care--to rest1--from war--to peace1-- ,from chance and change1--to everlasting bliss4 ,give praise to ,god4 ,,colonel ,h4 ,l4 ,,miller1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,december #cjth1 #ahfa4 ,sorrow and ,joy collude4 ,one mansion hears ,the children shouting o'er their ,christmas ,tree1 ,while in the next resound the widow's wail ,and weeping of the fatherless4 ,so walk ,sickness and health4 ,one rounds the cheek at morn1 ,the other with a ghost-like movement glides ,unto the nightly couch1 and lo6 the wheels ,of life drive heavily1 and all its springs ,revolving in mysterious mechanism ,are troubled4 ,and how slight the instrument ,that sometimes sends the strong man to his tomb1 ,revealing that the glory of his prime1 ,is as the flower of grass4 ,of this we thought ,when looking on the face that lay so calm ,and comely in its narrow coffin-bed1 ,remembering how the months of pain that sank ,his manly vigor to an infant's sigh ,were met unmurmuringly4 ,dense was the throng ,that gather'd to his obsequies1--and well ,the ,pastor's prayer of faith essayed to gird ,the smitten hearts that whelm'd in sorrow mourn'd ,husband and sire1 whose ever-watchful love ,guarded their happiness4 ,slowly moved on ,the long procession1 led by martial men ,who deeply in their patriot minds deplored ,their fallen compeer1 and bade music lay ,with plaintive voice1 her chaplet down beside ,his open grave4 ,then1 the first setting sun ,of our ,new-,year1 cast off his wintry frown1 ,and seemed to write in clear1 long lines of gold ,upon the whiten'd earth1 the glorious words1 ,so shall the dead arise1 at the last trump1 ,sown here in weakness1 to be raised in power1 ,sown in corruption1 to put on the robes ,of immortality4 ,praise be to ,him ,who gives through ,christ our ,lord1 to dying flesh ,such victory4 ,,colonel ,,samuel ,,colt1 ,died at ,hartford1 on ,friday morning1 ,january #ajth1 #ahfb4 ,and hath he fallen1--whom late we saw ,in manly vigor bold8 ,that stately form1--that noble face1 ,shall we no more behold8-- ,not now of the renown we speak ,that gathers round his name1 ,for other climes beside our own ,bear witness to his fame2 ,nor of the high inventive power ,that stretched from zone to zone1 ,and 'neath the pathless ocean wrought1-- ,for these to all are known2-- ,nor of the love his liberal soul ,his native ,city bore1 ,for she hath monuments of this ,till memory is no more2 ,nor of the self-reliant force ,by which his way he told1 ,nor of the ,midas-touch that turn'd ,all enterprise to gold1 ,and made the indignant ,river yield ,unto the ozier'd plain1-- ,for these would ask a wider range ,than waits the lyric strain3 ,we choose those unobtrusive traits ,that dawn'd with influence mild1 ,when in his noble ,mother's arms ,we saw the noble child1 ,and noted mid the changeful scenes ,of boyhood's sport or strife1 ,that quiet1 firm and ruling mind ,which marked advancing life4 ,so onward as he held his course ,through hardship to renown1 ,he kept fresh sympathy for those ,who cope with fortune's frown1 ,the kind regard for honest toil1 ,the joy to see it rise1 ,the fearless truth that never sought ,his frailties to disguise1 ,the lofty mind that all alone ,gigantic plans sustain'd1 ,yet turned unboastfully away ,from fame and honors gained2 ,the tender love for her who blest ,his home with angel-care1 ,and for the infant buds that rose ,in opening beauty fair4 ,deep in the heart whence flows this lay1 ,is many a grateful trace ,of friendship's warm and earnest deed ,which nought can e'er replace2 ,for in the glory of his prime ,the pulse forsakes his breast1 ,and by his buried little ones ,he lays him down to rest4 ,and thousand stand with drooping head ,beside his open grave1 ,to whose industrious1 faithful hands1 ,the daily bread he gave1 ,the daily bread that wife and babe ,or aged parent cheer'd1 ,beneath the pleasant cottage roofs1 ,which he for them had rear'd4 ,there's mourning in the princely halls ,so late with gladness gay1 ,a tear within the heart of love ,that will not dry away2 ,a sense of loss on all around1 ,a sigh of grief and pain-- ,the like of him we lose to day1 ,we ne'er shall see again4 ,,madam ,,hannah ,,lathrop1 ,died in ,norwich1 ,connecticut1 ,january #ahth1 #ahfb1 aged #ib4 ,had ,i an artist's pencil1 ,i might sketch ,her as she was1 in her young matronhood ,graceful and dignified1 serene and fair4 --,i well remember1 when at ,sabbath-morn1 ,with pious zeal1 the rural church she sought1 ,our rural church1--by rocks o'er-canopied1-- ,where with her stately husband and their group ,of younglings bright1 each in the accustom'd seat1 ,how many a glance was toward her beauty bent ,admiringly4 ,in those primeval days ,the aristocracy that won respect1 ,sprang not from wealth alone1 but laid its base ,in goodness and in virtue4 ,thus she held ,her healthful influence in society ,without gainsaying voice4 ,the polity ,of woman's realm1--sweet home1--those inner cares ,and countless details that promote its peace1 ,prosperity and order1 were not deem'd ,beneath the highest then1 nor wholly left ,to hireling hands4 ,this science she upheld1 ,and with her circle of accomplishments ,and charms so mingled it1 that all combined ,harmoniously4 ,that energy and grace ,so often deem'd the exclusive property ,of youth's fresh season1 or of vigorous prime1 ,she brought to ,age1 an unencumbered dower1 ,making the gift of being beautiful1 ,even beyond ninety years4 ,and though the change ,of mortal life1 dispers'd her cherish'd band1 ,and some had gone their own fair nests to build ,and some arisen to mansions in the skies ,alone1 yet undismay'd1 her post she kept1 ,guiding a household in the same good ways ,of order and of hospitality4 ,so1 when with mild decline1 the sunset came1 ,her powers still unimpair'd1 all willingly ,as a confiding and obedient child ,goes to its father's house1 she went above4 ,,henrietta ,,selden ,,colt1 ,daughter of ,col4 ,,samuel and ,mrs4 ,,elizabeth ,,colt1 died ,january #bjth1 #ahfb1 aged #g months and #bg days4 ,,the ,,mourning ,,mother4 ,a tomb for thee1 my babe6 ,dove of my bosom1 can it be8 ,but yesterday in all thy charms1 ,laughing and leaping in my arms1 ,a tomb and shroud for thee6 ,a couch for thee mine own1 ,beneath the frost and snow6 ,so fondly cradled1 soft and warm1 ,and sheltered from each breath of storm1 ,a wintry couch for thee6 ,thy noble father's there1 ,but the last week he died1 ,he would have stretched his guarding arm1 ,to shelter thee from every harm1 ,nestle thee to his side4 ,thy ruby lip skill'd not ,that father's name to speak1 ,yet wouldst thou pause mid infant play ,to kiss his picture when away1 ,the love smile on thy cheek4 ,thy brother slumbereth there1 ,our first-born joy was he1 ,thy little sister sweetly fair1 ,most like a blessed bird of air2 ,a goodly company4 ,only one left with me1 ,one here and three above1 ,be not afraid my precious child6 ,the ,shepherd of the lambs is mild1-- ,sleep in ,his love4 ,thou never saw'st our ,spring ,unfold the blossoms gay2 ,but thou shalt see perennial bowers1 ,enwreathed with bright and glorious flowers1 ,that cannot fade away4 ,and thou shalt join the song1 ,that happy cherubs pour1 ,in their adoring harmonies3 ,i'll hear ye1 darlings1 when ,i rise ,to that celestial shore4 ,yes1 there's a ,saviour dear1-- ,keep down1 oh tears1 that swell6 ,a righteous ,god who reigns above1 ,whose darkest ways are truth and love1 ,he doeth all things well4 ,,the ,,little ,,brothers1 ,,william ,,childs ,,brewer1 died ,jan4 #bdth1 #ahfb1 aged #g years1 and ,,george ,,cleveland ,,brewer1 aged #e years1 at ,springfield1 ,mass41 ,feb4 #dth1 #ahfb4 ,the noble boy amid his sports ,droop'd like a smitten flower ,that feels the frost-king's fatal shaft1 ,and withers in its bower4 ,but then a younger darling sank ,in childhood's rosy bloom1 ,and those whose hearts were one from birth1 ,were brothers in the tomb4 ,not in the tomb4 ,ah no6 ,they rose ,through ,christ their ,saviour's love1 ,in his blest presence to cement ,their deathless bond of love4 ,are they not dwelling side by side8 ,have they not 'scaped the strife1 ,the snares1 the sins1 the woes that stain ,this pilgrimage of life8 ,oh heart of sorrowing ,love1 be strong6 ,tho' tenderest ties are riven1 ,for do not earth's bereavments aid ,the angel-chant of ,heaven4 ,,mr4 ,,david ,f4 ,,robinson1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,january #bfth1 #ahfb1 aged #fa4 ,we did not think it would be so2-- ,we kept ,the hope-lamp trimm'd and burning4 ,day by day ,there came reports to cheer us2--and we thought ,god in his goodness would not take away ,so soon1 another of that wasting band ,of worthies1 whose example in our midst1 ,precious and prized1 we knew not how to spare4 ,these were our thoughts and prayers2-- ,but ,he who reigns ,above the clouds had different purposes4 99 99 99 99 99 ,on the low pillow where so late he mourn'd ,his gifted first-born1 in the prime of days1 ,circled by all that makes life beautiful ,and full of joy1 his honored head is laid1-- ,the ,sire and ,son1--ne'er to be sunder'd more4 ,yet his unblemish'd memory still survives1 ,and walks among us2--the upright intent1-- ,firmness that conquer'd obstacles1--the zeal ,for public good1--the warmth of charity1 ,and piety1 that gave unwithering root ,to every virtue4 ,of the pleasant home ,where his most fond affections shed their balm ,and found response1--now in its deep eclipse ,and desolate1 it is not ours to speak2 ,nor by a powerless sympathy invade ,the sacredness of grief4 ',twere fitter far ,for faith to contemplate that glorious ,home ,which knows no change1 and lose itself in praise ,of ,him1 who to ,his faithful followers gives ,such blessed passport o'er the flood of ,death1 ,that where ,he is1 there shall ,his servant be4 ,,mr4 ,,samuel ,,tudor1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,january #bith1 #ahfb1 aged #ib4 ,we saw him on a winter's day1 ,beneath the hallowed dome1 ,where for so many years his heart ,had found its ,sabbath-home1 ,yet not amid his ancient seat ,or in the accustomed place ,arose his fair1 and reverend brow1 ,and form of manly grace4 ,then ,music1 through the organ's soul ,melodious descant gave1 ,but yet his voice so rich and sweet ,swell'd not the sacred stave1 ,the ,christmas wreaths o'er arch and nave ,were lingering still to cheer ,his parting visit to the fane ,which he had help'd to rear4 ,and flowers were on the coffin-lid ,and o'er his bosom strown1 ,fit offering for the friend who loved ,the plants of every zone1 ,and bade them in his favor'd cell ,unfold their charms sublime1 ,and felt the florist's genial joy ,repel the frost of time4 ,no cloud of sorrow marr'd his course1 ,save when her loss he wept1 ,whose image in his constant soul ,its angel presence kept1 ,but heavenly ,mercy's balm was shed ,to cheer his lonely breast1 ,for tenderest love in filial hearts ,his latest moments blest4 ,and so1 for more than ninety years ,flow'd on his cloudless span1 ,in love of ,nature1 and of ,art1 ,and kindred love for man1 ,our oldest patriarch1 kind and true1 ,to all our ,city dear1 ,his cordial tones1 his greeting words ,no more on earth we hear4 ,last of that band of noble men ,who for their ,church's weal ,took counsel in her hour of need ,and wrought with tireless zeal1 ,nor in their fervent toil declined ,nor loiter'd on their ways1 ,until her ,gothic towers arose ,and her full chant of praise4 ,but as we laid him down with tears1 ,the westering ,sun shone bright1 ,and through the ice-clad evergreens ,diffused prismatic light1 ,type of the glory that awaits ,the rising of the just1 ,and so1 we left him in the grave ,that ,christ his ,lord had blest4 ,,henry ,,howard ,,comstock1 ,youngest child of the late ,capt4 ,,john ,c4 ,,comstock1 died at ,hartford1 ,february #aath1 #ahfb1 a fortnight after his father1 aged #aa months4 ,it was a fair and mournful sight ,once at the wintry tide1 ,when to the dear baptismal rite ,was brought an infant1 sweet and bright1 ,his father's couch beside1 ,his dying father's couch beside1 ,whose eye1 with tranquil ray1 ,beheld upon that beauteous head ,the consecrated water shed1 ,then calmly pass'd away4 ,a little while the lovely babe1 ,as if by angels lent1 ,with soft caress and soothing wile ,invok'd a widow'd mother's smile1 ,then to his father went4 ,christ's holy seal upon his brow1 ,christ's sign upon his breast1 ,he 'scaped from all the cares and woes ,that earth inflicts or manhood knows1 ,and enter'd with the blest4 ,,rev4 ,,dr4 ,,david ,,smith1 ,for many years ,pastor of a ,church in ,durham1 ,conn41 died at ,fair ,haven1 ,march #c;d1 #ahfb1 aged #id4 ,the transcript of a long1 unblemish'd life ,replete with happiness and holiness1 ,is a fair page to look upon with love ,in this world's volume oft defaced by sin1 ,and marr'd with misery4 ,and he1 who laid ,his earthly vestments down this day1 doth leave ,such tablet for the heart4 ',twas good to see ,that what he preach'd to others1 he portray'd ,before them in example1 that the eye ,adding its stronger comment to the ear1 ,might lend new impulse to the flock he led ,toward the ,great ,shepherd's fold4 99 99 99 99 99 ,along his path ,sorrows he met1 but such as wrought him gain1 ,and joys that made not weak his hold on heaven1 ,but touch'd his brow with sunbeams1 and his heart ,with warmer charity4 ,year after year1 ,home's duties and its hospitalities ,were blent with cheerfulness1 and when the chill ,of hoary ,time approach'd he took no part ,in that repulsive criticism of age1 ,pronouncing with a frown1 the former days ,better than these4 ,the florid glow that tints ,the cheek of health1 which youth perchance1 accounts ,its own peculiar beauty1 dwelt with him ,till more than fourscore years and ten achiev'd ,their patriarch circle1 while the pleasant smile ,and genial manner1 casting light around ,his venerable age1 conspired to make ,his company desirable to all4 ,and so beloved on earth and waited for ,above1 he closed this mortal pilgrimage ,in perfect peace4 ,,miss4 ,,emily ,b4 ,,parish1 ,formerly a ,teacher in ,hartford1 died at ,cleveland1 ,ohio1 ,march #abth1 #ahfb4 ,teachers1--she is not here ,with the first breath of ,spring ,her aid to your devoted band ,with cheering smile and ready hand ,untiringly to bring4 ,pupils1--her guiding voice1 ,her sweetly warbled strain ,urging your spirits to be wise ,with daily1 tuneful harmonies ,ye shall not hear again4 ,parents1--and loving friends ,the parents' heart who shared1 ,give thanks to that abounding grace ,which led her through the ,christian race1 ,to find its high reward4 ,lover1--the spell is broke ,that o'er your life she wove1 ,look to her flitting robes that gleam ,so white1 beyond cold ,jordan's stream1 ,look to the ,land of ,love4 ,,harriet ,,allen ,,ely1 ,died at ,providence1 ,rhode ,island1 ,april #bgth1 #ahfb1 aged #g years and #b months4 ,seven blest years our darling daughter1 ,we have held thee to our hearts1 ,every season growing dearer2 ,we have held thee near and nearer1 ,never dreaming thus to part4 ,seven brief years--our only daughter-- ,sweet has been the parent rule1 ,infant watch by cradle nightly1 ',till we saw thy footsteps lightly ,tripping joyously to school4 ,germ of promise1--bud of beauty1 ,to our tenderest nurture given1 ,not for our too dim beholding ,was thy fair and full unfolding2 ,that perfection is in ,heaven4 ,earth no license had to harm thee1 ,time no power to touch thy bloom1 ,holy is our faith to meet thee1 ,glorious is our trust to greet thee ,far beyond the conquering tomb4 ,,miss ,,catharine ,,ball1 ,daughter of ,hon4 ,judge ,,ball of ,hoosick ,falls1 ,n4,y41 died at the ,city of ,washington1 #ahfb4 ,bright sunbeam of a father's heart ,whose earliest radiance shone ,delightful o'er a mother's eye ,like morning-star in cloudless sky1 ,say1 whither hast thou flown8 ,fair inmate of a happy home ,whose love so gently shed ,could a serene enchantment make ,and love in stranger bosoms wake1 ,ah1 whither art thou fled8 ,they know1 who trust the ,saviour's word ,with faith no tear can dim1 ,that such as bear ,his spirit here ,and do ,his will in duty's sphere ,shall rise to dwell with ,him4 ,they know1 who feel an ,angel near1 ,though hid from mortal sight ,and reaching out to her their hand ,shall safer reach that ,pleasant ,land ,whose buds no blast can blight4 ,even ,i1 who but with fleeting glance ,beheld thee here below1 ,from its remembered sweetness gain ,new impulse toward that heavenly train ,whose harps in never-ceasing strain ,with ,god's high praises glow4 ,,mrs4 ,,morris ,,collins1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,may #aith1 #ahfb4 ,frail stranger at the gate of life1 ,too weak to grasp its key1 ,o'er whom the ,sun on car of gold ,hath but a few times risen and roll'd1 ,unnoticed still by thee1-- ,to whom the toil of breath is new1 ,in this our vale of time ,whose feet are yet unskill'd to tread ,the grassy carpet round thee spread ,at the soft1 vernal prime1-- ,deep sympathy and pitying care ,regard thy helpless moan1 ,and 'neath thy forehead arching high ,methinks1 the brightly opening eye ,doth search for something gone4 ,yon slumberer 'mid the snowy flowers1 ,with young1 unfrosted hair1 ,awakes not at the mournful sound ,of bird-like voices murmuring round ,why sleeps our ,mother there8 ,hers was that sunshine of the heart1 ,which ,home's fair region cheer'd1 ,hers the upright1 unselfish aim1 ,the fond response to duty's claim1 ,the faith that never fear'd4 ,oh mystery6 brooding oft so dark ,o'er this our path below1 ,not ours1 with wild1 repining sigh1 ,to ask the wherefore1 or the why1 ,but drink our cup of woe4 ,so1 in her shrouded beauty cold1 ,yield to the earth its own1 ,assured that ,heaven will guard the trust1 ,of that which may not turn to dust1 ,but dwells beside the ,throne4 ,,mrs4 ,,margaret ,,walbridge1 ,died at ,saratoga1 ,n4,y41 ,june #b;d1 #ahfb1 aged #ce4 ,,written ,,on ,,her ,,birth-,,day4 ,this was her birth-day here1 ,when summer's latest flowers ,were kindling to their flush and prime1 ,as if they felt how short the time ,in these terrestrial bowers4 ,she hath a birth-day now ,no hastening night that knows1 ,she hath a never-ending year ,which feels no blight of autumn sere1 ,nor chill of wintry snows4 ,she hath no pain or fear1 ,but by her ,saviour's side ,expansion finds for every power2 ,and knowledge her angelic dower ,an ever-flowing tide4 ,they sorrow1 who were called ,from her sweet smile to part1 ,who wore her love-links fondly twined ,like woven threads of gold refined ,around their inmost heart4 ,tears are upon the cheeks ,of little ones this day1 ,god of the motherless1--whose eye ,notes even the ravens when they cry ,wipe ,thou their tears away3 ,oh1 comfort all who grieve ,beside the sacred urn1-- ,for brief our space to wail or sigh1 ,like grass we fade1 like dreams we fly1 ,and rest with those we mourn4 ,,the ,,brothers1 ,mr4 ,,fisher ,,ames ,,buell1 died at ,hartford1 ,may #aith1 #ahfa1 aged #be1 and ,mr4 ,,henry ,r4 ,,buell1 on his voyage to ,europe1 ,june #bjth1 #ahfb1 aged #cj1 the only children of ,mr4 ,,robert and ,mrs4 ,,laura ,,buell4 ,both gone4 ,both smitten in their manly prime1 ,yet the fair transcript of their virtues here1 ,and treasured memories of their boyhood's time ,allay the anguish of affection's tear4 ,one hath his rest amid the sacred shade ,whose turf reveals the mourner's frequent tread1 ,and one beneath the unfathomed deep is laid ,to slumber till the sea restores her dead4 ,the childless parents weep their broken trust1 ,hope's fountain failing at its cherish'd springs1 ,and widow'd sorrow shrouds herself in dust1 ,while one lone flowret to her bosom clings4 ,yet no blind chance this saddening change hath wrought1 ,no dark misrule this mortal life attends1 ,a ,heavenly ,father's never-erring thought ,commingles with the discipline ,he sends4 ,not for ,his reasons let us dare to ask1 ,his secret counsels not aspire to read1 ,but faithful bow to each allotted task ,and make ,his will our solace and our creed4 ,,hon4 ,,phillip ,,ripley1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,july #hth1 #ahfb1 aged #fh4 ,it is not meet the good and just ,oblivious pass away1 ,and leave no record for their race1 ,except a dim and fading trace1 ,the memory of a day4 ,we need the annal of their course1 ,their pattern for a guide1-- ,their armor that temptation quell'd1-- ,the beacon-light that forth they held ,o'er ,time's delusive tide4 ,within the ,house of ,god ,i sate ,at ,summer's morning ray1-- ,and sadly mark'd a vacant seat ,where erst in storm1 or cold or heat ,while lustrums held their way1 ,was ever seen with reverent air ,intent on hallow'd lore1 ,a forehead edg'd with silver hair1 ,a manly form bow'd low in prayer1-- ,they greet our eyes no more4 ,and where #a,philanthropy commands ,her lighted lamp to burn1 ,and youthful feet inured to stray ,are wisely warn'd to duty's way1 ,repentant to return1 ,he1 with a faith that never fail'd1 ,its first inception blest1-- ,and year by year1 with zeal untired1 ,wise counsel lent1--new hopes inspired1 ,and righteous precepts prest4 ,they did him honor at his grave1 ,those men of mystic sign1 ,whose ancient symbols bright and fair1 ,the ,book1 the ,level1 and the ,square1 ,betoken truth benign3 ,all do him honor1 who regard ,integrity sincere1 ,but they who knew his virtues best1 ,while fond remembrance rules the breast1 ,will hold his image dear4 #a ,mr4 ,ripley was a persevering friend and patron of the ,state ,reform ,school at ,west ,meriden4 ,he had long sustained the office of ,trustee for the ,county of ,hartford1 and was at the time of his death1 the ,chairman of that body1 and a prominent member of its ,executive ,committee4 ,his frequent visits to that ,institution1 his attention to all its internal concerns1 and earnest satisfaction in its prosperity1 entitle him to its grateful remembrance4 ,,richard ,,ely ,,collins1 ,son of ,mr4 ,,morris ,,collins1 died at ,wethersfield1 ,september #eth1 #ahfb1 aged #c months and #bg days4 ,it was a sad and lovely sight ,they call'd us to behold1 ,that infant forehead high and fair1 ,those beauteous features sculptured rare1 ,yet breathless all1 and cold4 ,heard it in dreams1 an angel voice ,soft as the zephyr's tone8 ,the yearning of a ,mother mild ,to clasp once more her three months' child ,but a few days her own8 ,just a few days of wasting pain ,she linger'd by its side1 ,and then consign'd to stranger arms ,the frail unfolding of the charms ,she would have watch'd with pride4 ,yet happy babe6 to reach a home ,beyond all sorrowing cares1 ,where none a ,mother's loss can moan ,or seek for bread1 and find a stone1 ,or fall in fatal snares4 ,thrice happy1--to have pass'd away ,ere ,time's sore ills invade1-- ,from fragrant buds that drooping shed ,their life-sigh o'er thy coffin-bed-- ,to flowers that never fade4 ,,miss ,,elizabeth ,,brinley1 ,died at ,hartford1 ,september #bhth1 #ahfb4 ,we miss her at the chancel-side1 ,for when we last drew near1 ,the holy ,eucharist to share1 ,she1 with the warmth of praise and prayer ,was meekly kneeling here4 ,we miss her when the liberal hand ,relieves a thirsting soil1 ,and when the ,blessed ,church demands ,assistance for the mission bands ,that on her frontier toil4 ,we miss her 'mid the gather'd train ,of children#a young and poor1 ,whom year by year she deign'd to teach ,with faithful zeal and patient speech1 ,and hope that anchor'd sure4 ,her couch is in the ancestral tomb ,with ,putnam's honor'd dust1 ,the true in word1 the bold in deed1 ,a bulwark in his ,country's need1 ,a tower of strength and trust4 ,her spirit's home is with her ,lord1 ,whom from her youth she sought1 ,the miss'd below hath found above ,the promise of a ,god of ,love ,made to the pure in thought4 #a ,the well-conducted ,industrial ,school in connection with ,st4 ,paul's ,church1 where she had been for several years an indefatigable and valued teacher4 ,,mr4 ,,john ,a4 ,,taintor1 ,died at ,hartford1 on ,saturday ,evening1 ,november #aeth1 #ahfb1 aged #fb years4 ,a sense of loss is on us4 ,one hath gone ,whose all-pervading energy doth leave ,a void and silence 'mid the haunts of men ,and desolation for the hearts that grieve ,in his fair mansion1 so bereft and lone1 ,whence the inspiring smile1 and cheering voice have flown4 ,those too there are who eloquently speak ,of his firm friendship1 not without a tear1 ,of its strong power to undergird the weak ,and hold the faltering feet in duty's sphere1 ,while in the cells of want1 a broken trust ,in bitterness laments1 that he is of the dust4 ,in foreign climes1 with patriotic eye ,he sought what might his ,country's welfare aid1 ,and the rich flocks of ,spain1 at his behest ,spread their proud fleeces o'er our verdant glade1 ,and ,scotia's herds1 as on their native shore ,our never-failing streams1 and pastures rich explore4 ,intent was he to adorn his own domain ,with all the radiant charms that ,flora brings1 ,there still1 the green-house flowers pronounce his name1 ,the favor'd rose its grateful fragrance flings1 ,and in their faithful ranks to guard the scene ,like changeless memories rise1 the unfading evergreen4 ,on friendly deeds intent1 while on his way ,a widow'd heart to cheer1--,one grasp'd his hand ,whose icy touch the beating heart can stay1 ,and in a moment1 at that stern command ,unwarn'd1 yet not unready1 he doth show ,the great transition made1 that waits on all below4 ,yet1 ah6 the contrast1--when the form that pass'd ,forth from its gates1 in full vitality1 ,is homeward1 as a lifeless burden borne1 ,no more to breathe kind word1 or fond reply1 ,each nameless care assume with earnest skill1 ,nor the unspoken wish of those he loved fulfill4 ,but hallow'd lips within the sacred dome ,where he so long his sabbath-worship paid ,have given his soul to ,god from whence it came ,and laid his head beneath the cypress shade1 ,while be ye also ready1 from his tomb1 ,in a ,redeemer's voice1 doth neutralize the gloom4