White Springs, Virginia
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This Site:
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JULY 13, 1861.] HARPER'S WEEKLY. 445 ALL IS WELL !THEY stood, mute lipped, with sullen eyes When spring was fresh and green, A tiny coffin at their feet, A new-made grave between. The earth was rich with bursting buds, The wind with grand perfumes, God's music, in a thousand tones, Swept softly round the tombs. The preacher, with a voice attuned To meet the music's swell, Stood heralding an angel's birth, The promise, " All is well!" The neighbors, with uncovered heads, In saddened groups stood by, With many a listening, trembling lip, And many a dimming eye. For every one of all the groups Who gathered sadly there Knew why, on either side the grave, Stood James and Ellen Ware. They knew how words of bitter strife Had words of love defied, And how a wandering man returned, The day his child had died. Returned too late to kiss the lips He loved so well with life; Returned with anger in his heart Against an angry wife. For she, when first the babe had drooped, With sullen scorn denied Her wish to have the father by The little sufferer's side. She steeled her heart with every word His angry tongue had said, And called him only to his home To find his darling dead. And so they stood beside the grave, The husband and the wife, Still warming in their heart of hearts The olden words of strife. The only two of all the crowd Unmoved to love and tears, With them the promise, " All is well!" Fell on unlistening ears. The prayer had ceased, the sexton stooped To lift the tiny load, To lay the baby child away Within its last abode. From either side the open grave Stepped James and Ellen Ware, And knelt beside the baby child That lay so silent there. Their heads were bowed, their hands were clasped Upon the coffin lid; The tears that struggled from their hearts Could be no longer hid. The preacher cast his eyes aloft, And stretched his hands in prayer, No word he spoke, we knew he prayed For James and Ellen Ware. Their hands crept blindly o'er the lid, And met in warm embrace, Their heads were lifted from their breasts, To gaze in either face. In sad, heart-broken tones they called Their baby's name aloud, And sobbing in each other's arms, They kissed its wooden shroud. And as the sexton stooped to lift Once more the little shell, They whispered to each other's heart The promise, " All is well!"
MARSHAL KANE, OF BALTIMORE.
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