riage. Very soon both parties yield to the sense of possession, and the feeling of security robs gallantry of motive and extracts the poetry from the mind. The beautiful attentions which were so pleasing before marriage are too often forgotten afterward; the gifts cease to come only with the asking; the music dies out of the voice; everything is taken for granted, and the love, which, like the silver jet of the fountain, leaped to heaven, denied its natural outlet, ceases to flow altogether. Then come dull, heavy, hard days, with two unhappinesses tied together, wishing themselves apart, and not always content with merely wishing. This is unnatural, unwise, and wrong. What our married life wants, to give it new tone and sweetness, is more of the manner as well as the sweetness of courting time. Love must have expression or it will die. It can be kept forever beautiful and blessed as at the first, by giving it constant utterance in word and act. The more it is allowed to flow out, in delicate attentions, in noble service, as in by-gone days, the stronger and more satisfying, and more blessed it will be. The house becomes more like home only when love drops its heavenly manna in it, fresh every day, from hearts yet warm with love; and the true marriage vow is made not once for all at the altar, but by loving words, and helpful service, and delicate attentions to the end, so beautifully illustrated in the matrimonial experience of the Bishop of Chichester, and so eloquently expressed by his own almost inspired pen. UNITED STATES HOTEL, NEWPORT, B. I. Walter Corbett, PROPRIETOR. H. C. BEMIS and C. W. CORBETT, ASSISTANTS. The United States Hotel is centrally located, and open the year round. I take pleasure in notifying my patrons and friends that I am prepared to exhibit stock of ENGLISH and FRENCH GOODS, for Spring and Summer wear. D. J. LAMBERT, Marchand Tailleur, 208 THAMES STREET, NEWPORT. JOHN ROGERS' CITY MUSIC STORE, 83 THAMES STREET, NEWPORT. PIANOS and MELODEONS to hire for the season or month. MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, and all of the POPULAR MUSIC of the day. 72 This communing of the Bishop with his buried wife is the more elevated, because it is the utterance of the truest and tenderest heart: Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed, My last good night! Thou wilt not wake, "Till age, or grief, or sickness must Marry my body to that dust It so much loves, and fill the room And follow thee with all the speed And every hour a step toward thee. At night when I betake to rest, Next morn when I rise nearer my west Of life, almost by eight hours' sail, Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale. "But hark! my pulse, like a soft drum Beats my approach, tells thee I come, And slow howe'er my marches be, I shall at last sit down by thee. The thought of this bids me go on And wait my dissolution, With hope and comfort. 'Dear, (forgive The crime,) I am content to live, Divided with but half a heart, "Till we shall meet and never part." |