Classic Poem

It was a sad day in autumn, pale, withering autumn, when a little
group of friends collected round the cradle of an infant of a few
weeks, who had tasted the cup of life, and now was turning seemingly
disappointed away from the bitter portion. The mild blue eyes were
raised to heaven, and that heavenly angelic expression, so peculiar
to expiring infancy rested upon his face, which was lovely in the
extreme, though wasted by disease. He was tenacious of life, and
lingered long in the embrace of the pale messenger, although the eye
was dim and the wrist pulseless.

The father, mother, sister, and brother, and grandmother, sat watching
the quivering flame that would rally for a few moments, then wane
again. Near by sat the nurse, bearing upon her lap the little twin
sister, who had her birth at the same hour with him, and who, like him
too, was passing away.

How soon they wearied of life, those frail, gentle ones, and the angel
came to bear them to a brighter, holier world, where the purity of
their sinless spirits should remain untarnished by the blight and
pollutions of earth.

We watched till the sun went down in the western sky, dim and shadowy,
enshrined long before his setting by a yellow autumnal haze, that cast
a melancholy subduing shade over the face of decaying nature that hung
out her fading flowers and withered leaves, as a token of the sad
change that was passing in her realm, while the evening breeze, as it
swayed the branches of the trees, bearing many a leaf to the ground,
and drifting them before his melancholy breath, seemed sighing a sad
requiem over departed glory.

Such a scene, at such an hour, spoke forcibly of the varied changes
and uncertainties of life, and as we looked upon the marble paleness
of the dear children, and compared them with the withering flowers
beneath the window, we felt that human life is but a flower that
perisheth.

In this instance, the worm had sapped the bud ere the brighter tints
were developed. As we stood in that chamber of death, we felt that God
was present, that He who had given life was about to take it back to
reign with Him, and though the deep fountains of grief were stirred,
there came a "still, small voice," heard through the silence of
that lone room, "Be still, and know that I am God," and we bowed in
submission to the Divine will.

The mist broke from the face of the sun, and his last setting beams
looked forth clear and bright upon the earth, tinging the fleecy
clouds with gold and purple, and they looked like gorgeous piles
of molten gold, over hung with crimson purple curtains, forming a
sumptuous canopy to decorate the heavens.

Even so with the babe, life's feeble taper seemed to revive and emit a
brilliant glare for a moment, the lips parted, the eyes wandered from
object to object, and seemed to survey all the room contained, gazing
most earnestly upon the face of the little sister, so soon to follow
him, then wearily closing them with a slight struggle, the spirit
passed away.

As we folded him in the vestments of the grave and laid him into the
silent halls of death, hope whispered of a glorious resurrection morn,
when those blue orbs should again awake from that long peaceful sleep,
and look out upon the beauties of the upper world.

They placed his little form in a wide coffin, and laid it in the tomb
to await the coming of his little sister.

A week passed away, a week of weary watchfulness and anxiety, of pain,
suffering and distress, and the angel returned again for the twin
spirit.

It was at the deep midnight hour when he announced his mysterious
presence, by laying his icy hand and spreading his marble paleness
over the form of the departing sister. The little frame was convulsed,
and writhed beneath the grasp of the pale visitant, but he pitied not,
relented not, but steady to his purpose, snapped the brittle thread of
life, performed the task he had been commissioned with, and hurried
away from that place of tears to cast his deep shadow over the sun
light of other homes, and fill other hearts with grief, and cause
other eyes to look red with weeping, "because death has come into the
world," and the children of men must fall before his withering blight.

Already had decomposition commenced its repulsive work in the form of
the little son, and he was laid away, while the coffin returned
for the other dear one, who was to moulder with him in its narrow
confines.

Deposited in the same tomb, was a coffin covered with mould, and
just ready to drop from the shelf upon which it was placed, and the
shrunken boards had separated, and it was perforated with large cracks
where it had been joined together. The lid was always unscrewed, and
was often raised by the hand of a fond mother, who looked upon the
dust of an only daughter, who had been the idol of her heart. She had
spared no pains in educating her, and she had well repaid the labor
bestowed upon her in the acquisition of knowledge.

She was beautiful in person, amiable in disposition, and was beloved
by a large circle of acquaintances. She was married early, to the
companion of her choice, who had been attentive to her from childhood,
declaring the first time he saw her, he never saw such beautiful curls
in his life, as Annie Grey's.

She had two little sons, and all looked bright and prosperous; Annie
was happy in the affection of her husband, her children and her
friends, but death lingered not for these things; he came, a most
unwelcome visitant, and bore his unwilling victim from the presence of
her agonized mother, "to join the pale nations of the dead."

She dressed her in the gilded trappings of life, bolstered her up in
bed, and curling her beautiful hair in glossy ringlets over her pale
face, had her likeness taken as large as life, and touched with
natural coloring, thus preserving the form and features of her child,
upon the senseless canvass, which was kept hung up in her room,
covered with black crape, during her life time.

Annie ever expressed repugnance at the idea of being deposited in
the ground, and her mother had this tomb built that she might there
repose, and she could watch her sleeping dust as it crumbled to decay.

Who that looked in upon that mouldering mass of blackened dust, and
contrasted it with the beautiful form that moved in life, but learned
an impressive lesson of the change that death makes upon the form of
youth and beauty? She had slept there many years, and the mother felt
the time was approaching, when she must take the last look of those
dear remains, and have them removed to the second vault, or buried
beneath the grassy turf; but ere the time arrived, the great reaper
gathered father and mother into his abundant harvest, and laid them by
her side.

Her husband, many years before, had passed from life's busy scenes,
and closed his eyes forever upon earth.

The little girl was placed in a coffin, and borne by weeping friends
to the burial place, and with her dead brother, lay side by side,
beautiful in death.

Fresh buds were placed in the hands of each, as they lay, with their
little arms entwined around each other, and their white marble
faces, looking up to the pure sky above, while their half-open lids
displaying their blue orbs, seemed looking out beneath the drooping
fringes, to take a last farewell of earth, sun, sky, friends, and all
the endearing associations of life.

A little mound was raised beside the grave of the maternal
grandfather, who had fallen suddenly, in the meridian of life, while
the strength of manhood was yet upon him. As the aged grandmother
turned from the grave of the little ones, she gave one lingering
glance to her husband's grave, and removing her glove from her hand,
pressed the marble slab, that stood at the head of it, and passed on,
with a sigh and a tear, to fulfil the remaining duties that awaited
her in life.

She had parted from him, many long years before, and now she had lived
her threescore years and ten, and her head was whitened with passing
years; but the infant of a few days had gone before her. But a few
more years passed, and you looked in vain upon earth for that weary
voyager,