A Bachelor's Reverie [pp. 601-609]

A Bachelor's ReveKe. 607
But this ill, strong hands, and Heaven's help,
will put down. Wealth again; Flowers again;
Patrimonial acres again; Brightness again. But
your little Bessy, your favorite child is pining.
Would to God! you say in agony, that wealth
could bring fulness again into that blanched
cheek, or round those little thin lips once more;
but it cannot. Thinner and thinner they grow;
plaintive and more plaintive her sweet voice.
"Dear Bessy"-and your tones tremble; you
feel she is on the edge of the grave. Can you
pluck her back? Can endearments stay her?
Business is heavy, away from the loved child;
home. you go, to fondle while yet time is leftbut this time you are too late.
She is gone.
She cannot hear you; she cannot thank you for
the violets you put within her stiff white hand.
And then-the grassy mound-the cold shadow
of head-stone!
The wind, growing with the night, is rattling
at the window panes, and whistles dismally. I
wipe a tear, and in the interval of my Reverie,
thank God, that I am no such mourner.
But gaiety, snail-footed, creeps back to the
house-hold. All is bright again.
The violet's bed's not sweeter, than the delicious breath
Marriage sends forth.
Aye, put your hair away,-compose yourselflisten again.
No, there is nothing.
Put your hand now to his brow,-damp indeed-but not with healthful night-sleep; it is
not your hand, no. do not deceive yourself-it is
your loved boy's forehead that is so cold; and
your loved boy will never speak to you againnever play again-he is dead!
Oh, the tears-the tears;-what blessed things
are tears! Never fear now to let them fall on his
forehead, or his lip, lest you waken him! Clasp
him-clasp him harder-you cannot hurt, you
cannot waken him! Lay him down, gently or not,
it is the same; he is stiff; he is stark and cold.
But courage is elastic; it is our pride. It recovers itself easier, thought I, than these embers
will get into blaze again.
But courage, and patience, and faith, and hope
have their limit. Blessed be tw man who escapes such trial as will determine limit!
'ro a lone-man it comes not near; for how
can trial take hold where there is nothing by
which to try?
A funeral? You reason with philosophy. A
grave-yard? You read Hlervey and muse upon
the wall. A fiiend dies? You sigh, you pat
your dog,-it is over. Losses? You retrenchyou light your pipe-it is forgotten. Calumny?
Her lip is rich and full; her cheek delicate as You laugh-you sleep.
a flower. Her frailty doubles your love. But with that childless wife clinging to you in
And the little one she clasps-frail too-too love and sorrow-what then?
frail;-the boy you had set your hopes and heart Can you take down Seneca now and cooly
on. You have watched him growing, ever pret- blow the dust from the leaf-tops? Can you crimp
tier, ever winning more and more upon your soul. your lip with Voltaire? Can you smoke idly,
The love you bore to him when he first lisped your feet dangling with the ivies, your thoughts
names-your name and hers-has doubled in all waving fancies, upon a church-yard wall-a
strength now that he asks innocently to be taught wall that borders the grave of your boy?
of this, or that, and promises you by that lively Can you amuse yourself with turning stinging
curiosity that flashes in his eye, a mind full of Martial into rhyme? Can you pat your dog, and
intelligence. seeing him wakeful and kind, say, " it is enough?"
And some hair-breadth escape by sea, or flood, Can you sneer at calumny and sit by your fire
that he perhaps may have had-which unstrung dozing?
your soul to such tears as you pray God, may be Blessed, thought I again, is the man who esspared you again-has endeared the little fellow capes such trial as will measure limit of patience
to your heart a thousand fold. and limit of courage!
And now, with his pale sister in the grave, all But the trial comes: colder and colder were
that love has come away from the mound, where growing the embers.
worms feast, and centers on the boy. That wife, over whom your love broods, is
How you watch the storms lest they harm him! fading. Not beauty fading;-that now that your
How often you steal to his bed late at night, and heart is wrapped in her being would be nothing.
lay your hand lightly upon the brow, where the She sees with quick eye your dawning apprecurls cluster thick, rising and falling with the hension, and she tries hard to make that step of
throbbing temples, and watch, for minutes to- hers elastic.
gether, the little lips half parted, and listen- Your trials and your loves together have cenyour ear close to them-if the breathing be reg- tered your affections. They are not now as
ular and sweet! when you were a lone man, wide-spread and
But the day comes-the night rather-when superficial. They have caught from domestic
you can catch no breathing. attachments a finer tone and touch. They can
607
A Bachelor's Rever;e.