Prev | Current Page 280 | Next

Hanna, Abigail Stanley

"Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland"


The white sea-gulls were floating through the air, often stooping as
if to dip their wings in the ocean waves, that murmured gently upon
the winding shore.
There was scarce a cloud to be seen in the sky, and the calmness of
nature whispered peace to the weary spirit.
As we crossed the ferry and entered the city, and witnessed the moving
tide of human life that was surging through the city mart jostling
against each other in their eager chase; and as we looked out upon the
motly group, human life was to be seen in almost all its forms.
Wealth hung out his golden trappings, and rolled by in all the
splendor of ease and luxury The children of poverty trudged on in
tattered garments, stung by pinching want, bearing heavy burdens upon
their heads, and weighed down by oppression.
These scenes awoke many reflections in the mind, and presented the
contrast of life.
Passing through the city with its tumults and its changes, we pursued
our way through Cambridge to the Cemetery.
The scenery was beautiful, and as we passed the elm tree where
Washington stood to give command to his army, how many associations
rushed upon the mind, filling it with remembrances of our country's
early struggles.
We entered the quiet shades "where rest the dead," sleeping beneath
the sober shadows of the forest trees that were scattering now and
then a withered leaf upon the grassy mounds that lay at their feet.
Here still, even here too, is the same contrast so visible in the
moving, active life of the city.


Pages:
268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292