Sweet Home; or, Friendship's Golden Altar/The Wayside
The Wayside.
I'm almost home. Dear native home,—in this quiet little village, nestled down closely by this sweet murmuring river,—how many sweet memories cling to thee! how beautiful thou art, surrounded by these proud hills and fine groves, scattered among which are neat cottages, green fields, and flourishing gardens!—the delight of the sober farmer and his prudent, loving wife. Where else does the glorious sun look down so cheerfully? How like a mantle of gold is his light thrown over these distant hills! and with what beauty does he tinge the heads of those stately oaks, silver maples, and proud pines, as they bow a welcome to the morning! Nor has he forgotten to gild the spire of the dear old church, with which are connected sweet and sad recollections. There I received instructions from the sacred Scriptures, and heard holy words from the man of God, never to be forgotten. But where are those who listened with me? I must go read the inscriptions on those plain monuments and marble slabs within the churchyard, (sacred place!) within whose bosom is locked the precious dust of loved ones. Here, in this corner, is my dear grandfather, the old man with silver hair, whose face shone so brightly when he talked of heaven and rest for the weary. And here, beside him, is one who shared his sunny days and dreary hours through many a year, but, weary of life, laid down to rest before him. Here is little Freddie's grave, and there his dear Alice, too.
O Death, thou hast sent gloom into many a happy heart; ay, and taken those who once made happy and bright a home in this little cottage. Dear old home—every thing around has a peculiar beauty to me; and each tells of joyous days and sunny hours. The old maple still stands firm, though the fierce winds of many a winter have beat upon it; and the elm spreads out his arms as lovingly as when I played beneath its shade with a merry group. I see them now, those honest, rosy faces; and "would I were a child again." Our young hearts had never known sorrow then, the bitter tears of disappointment had never dimmed our eyes, nor had our ears ever heard the last adieu of a dear sister, a fond father, and a tender mother. The future was then one long, bright, happy day of gladness and mirth.
Though sad changes, dark days, and gloomy scenes from the past ever come before me, here, still, it's a loved spot, a sacred place; for here I first heard the story of God and heaven, learned my first lesson of gentleness and forbearance, and was first taught to lisp my wants in the ear of Him who giveth every good.