The adopted daughter and other tales |
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46. | ONE LEAF OF LIFE. |
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The adopted daughter | ||
327
ONE LEAF OF LIFE.
(A SKETCH.)
BY MRS. L. G. ABELL.
There she lay and faintly whispered.
“Oh how lingering is this death!
Every pulse of joy has faded,
But still feebly pants the breath.
All of love that e'er I cherished,
All of hope that e'er I knew,
All of happiness has perished
In this heart, once warm and true!
Still I linger—Still am dying—
Inch by inch—and hour by hour
Dead the heart and heavy lying,
Oh how chilling is its power;
Life hath long since lost its blessing
None but cruel words to hear,
Like cold rain-drops they have frozen
Up my heart and every tear!
Woman—could ye look upon me,
Know the struggles I have known,
Feel the chords of life thus breaking,
As I in dying here alone—
Oh what lessons would be given
To the young and to the old,
Ye would banish from your dwellings,
That, which makes the heart so cold;
“Oh how lingering is this death!
Every pulse of joy has faded,
But still feebly pants the breath.
All of love that e'er I cherished,
All of hope that e'er I knew,
All of happiness has perished
In this heart, once warm and true!
Still I linger—Still am dying—
Inch by inch—and hour by hour
Dead the heart and heavy lying,
Oh how chilling is its power;
Life hath long since lost its blessing
None but cruel words to hear,
Like cold rain-drops they have frozen
Up my heart and every tear!
Woman—could ye look upon me,
Know the struggles I have known,
Feel the chords of life thus breaking,
As I in dying here alone—
Oh what lessons would be given
To the young and to the old,
Ye would banish from your dwellings,
That, which makes the heart so cold;
328
How it creeps along my vitals
Checking there the purple tide”—
One faint gasp and all was over—
Thus a sorrowing woman died!
Gently raise the shroud above her,
Oh how pale her marble brow—
And how peaceful is her slumber,
Grief can no more move her now!
Lay the white folds back upon her,
Let the broken hearted rest.—
Oh Intemperance! Thou her murderer!
Man—how cruel such a death!
Gentle woman meek and dove eyed,
Go at midnight hour and see
Thy pale sister, sadly lying,
It shall be a voice to thee—
It shall come and breathe its whisper
When thy curtain folds are drawn—
It shall rouse thee from thy slumbers,
As thou risest with the dawn.
It shall echo in thy bosom
Swaying every thought and deed,
Till it rouse the soul to action,
And some heart that voice shall heed!
It shall breathe its spirit warnings
Daily—nightly—unto thee—
“Sister rest not—Earth is mourning,
Ye must—act decidedly.”
Checking there the purple tide”—
One faint gasp and all was over—
Thus a sorrowing woman died!
Gently raise the shroud above her,
Oh how pale her marble brow—
And how peaceful is her slumber,
Grief can no more move her now!
Lay the white folds back upon her,
Let the broken hearted rest.—
Oh Intemperance! Thou her murderer!
Man—how cruel such a death!
Gentle woman meek and dove eyed,
Go at midnight hour and see
Thy pale sister, sadly lying,
It shall be a voice to thee—
It shall come and breathe its whisper
When thy curtain folds are drawn—
It shall rouse thee from thy slumbers,
As thou risest with the dawn.
It shall echo in thy bosom
Swaying every thought and deed,
Till it rouse the soul to action,
And some heart that voice shall heed!
It shall breathe its spirit warnings
Daily—nightly—unto thee—
“Sister rest not—Earth is mourning,
Ye must—act decidedly.”
The adopted daughter | ||