Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland by Abigail Stanley Hanna
page 17 of 371 (04%)
page 17 of 371 (04%)
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rays upon the thick curtains of morning glories that hung clustering
over our window, fragrant with their verdant leaves, and rich purple blossoms, and causing the dew-drops to glisten like sparkling diamonds, while the sweet odors of many scented flowers were borne upon every passing breeze. But could we now recognize this spot? oh no! the destroyer has been there, and there remains no trace of herb or flower; an ell has been built on to that end of the house, and the barn has been moved, so that our beautiful garden has been transformed into a door yard, and all traces of beauty are obliterated. Crossing the garden you next entered upon a large level lot covered with the richest grass that annually used to fall before the sythe of the mower, and descended by sloping hills to the above mentioned luxuriant meadow; through which ran a quiet winding stream that used to afford us an abundance of speckled trout and shining pickerel, to say nothing about the many play hours spent upon its margin; but now the stream is lost beneath the vast reservoir, and has washed away all traces of flowers, strawberries and verdant grass that used to mark its serpentine wanderings, by assuming a deeper green. The west end of this enclosure was intersected by what used to be called Virginia fence, then crossed into two separate places dividing one into a sheep-pasture, the other into a large garden for the cultivation of winter vegetables. In the pasture used to graze a large flock of sheep, and the snowy lambs sported over the rocks and ran down the hillside; does this remain the same? The rocks have been removed out of their places, and in their stead dwelling houses have been erected, and the busy hum of active life there resounds, and the prattling of children is heard instead of the bleating of lambs. |
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