Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/20

. young happiness, when we were blest with friends, and wealth, and love,” murmured a woman who sat by herself at the lower end of the quilt, and whose clean cap and dress were of a quality that denoted poverty; if we had died then he would not have gone down unhonored to the drunkard’s grave; nor should I have lived to toil day and night for that tear steeped bread which merely preserves my despised little ones from starvation. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors.”

"Well, after all, life is sweet,” cried the buxom wife of a thriving farmer, who though scarce thirty, already numbered eight children. “Surely the old people who sit with their children and grandchildren, surrounded by comforts guilered by their own industry, have no reason to wish they had died young. The Bible everywhere teaches that long life should be considered a blessing.”

"The ways of Providence are often wrapped in mystery,” observed a solemn looking lady. “He snatches one from the midst of all life's blessings and honors, and suffers another to drag on a long life of suffering and infamy; it is vain to search for his motives, he does as it pleases him, and although his dealings may appear like cruelty, we shall doubtless one day acknowledge that they were just.”

"Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” quoted a plainly dressed woman, whose placid brow looked as if neither sorrow, care, not discontent, had place beneath it. “However mysterious his dealing may appear, his children feel that he is supremely merciful. All that we have need of is living faith! Once possessed of that, we feel that for us to live is Christ, and to die is gain."

At this point of the conversation tea was announced and the quilters adjourned.

Take away that fair goblet—at least for tonight, "Till my heart is less heavy, my fancy more bright; In the land of the Stranger I pine when I see That memento of joys that have perish’d to me.

Of the looks I last pledged o'er its luminous brim, All are distant, and some of the brightest are dim, And this moment the gleams of its silver appear Like the flash of the plate on dead Revelry's bier.

‘And back from the bier, as I sit in the gloom In which Spring’s sickly twilight envelopes the room, Stalks that long-buried Bacchant, and circles my board With the shadows of all I have loved and deplored.

Take away that fair wine-cup!—I've none with me now To laugh back the ruby that reddens its flow— It was moulded for Hope's happy meetings with mirth, Not for passion’s pale hermit alone at his hearth.

The last beams of departing day enlightened a beautiful garden in the interior of Persia, whose breezes were laden with the perfumes of the orange, and whoso air was stirred by the sounds of music, softer and more sweet than mortal voice could produce. It was the birthday of tho fairy queen. She was resting sweetly on the bosom of a rose. Around her were gathered the most beautiful fairies, seeking encouragement from her eye. Sho waved her pearly wand and all was silent, save the gentle rustling of the leaves which formed her rosy bower. A sweet smile shone on her countenance as she sportively said,

“As a punishment for your presumption in aspiring to win my affections, I banish you from my presence for the space of one year, and at the expiration of that time, he who brings mo the most acceptable relic shall reign with me.”

They all eagerly left her presence, wandering through every region, until the appointed time, when they again awaited her decision. A fairy rushed before the rest, Whose sparkling eye plainly told that he thought his gift the most acceptable that could be produced.

“I have wandered,” said be, “through all the kingdoms of the earth, and visited the courts of the most powerful sovereigns, but found no treasure that I deemed of sufficient value for you, until I arrived at Great Britain; I saw with pleasure the prosperity of that great and powerful nation, but was filled with astonishment, when I learned that the regal sceptre was home by a young female. I hastened to her court and stole the brightest jewel from her crown, which I now present to you, not on account of its intrinsic value, but as a relic which may remind you of what woman can be.”

Another softly approached, and kneeling, presented his offering.

“I have passed the year,” said he, “among the loveliest of the earth, and sought in hall and bower for one who possessed charms of person heightened by those of intellect and purity of mind. At length a fair being crossed my path, who seemed to possess every charm in ite highest perfection, She was to me like a being sent from some celestial sphere, to show what mankind might have been if our first parents hed never sinned, and after cheering thia world for a while by her transcendant loves Iiness to vanish into heaven. She eppeared but seldom in the gey throng, for her pure and gentle spirit loved retirement better than the dissipated, the heartless crowd. I followed her to her retreat; but soon perceived by the unnatural brilliancy of her eye, and the hectic flush upon her cheek that the fell destroyer had marked her for his victim. Day and night I hovered over her pillow, as she seemed gradually fading away like a lovely lower. One beautiful evening she awoke from a tranquil slum- �