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Show The Rights of Me. Women of Zion, mid the Rights of the Women of all Nations. - ' Vol. , IO - in .... -''- I-. "14. I SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH, JANUARY 10, 1880. No. 16. rt A' TRIBUTE OF MEMORY. i . WRITTEN TOjjTHK -- MEMBERS OF TJIE-CIIOI- tt OF TIIE I V FIFTEENTH WARD, SALT LAKE CITV. -- IVc forgotten, oh friends of long years, v. : r V ' Of my brightest and happiest, days, That your faces are dimmed by the sfiadows and tears, rOf the joys of a wanderer's ways? ' Forget the warm hand clasp of friendship so true,' 'J'The smile and kind greeting of all? sTo! the ties of Affection that strengthened and grew Must last till the Master's call. ;' ' ' Forget "Oh, my Father," as sung by bur choir, ' MSarahV .'Janet", and "lire?' These were written for us tuned on "Tom's Golden Lyre," And with VAshton"' and "Morgan'! for aye will endure. . In spring" balmy hours and summer's fierce heat,"""". Do you think 1 " - . . " -- " And when autumn leaves covered the ground, ' And in cold, wintry blasts'stiU gladly we met, ' . To the call of the organ's sweet sound. " oh, cherisl.nd prize well your gift f, ; Of music, 'tis sent from -- Fron earth's care and rust your soul it will lift .' , ; ' Unto regions of glory and love. ' The ' ' Lights by the Shore, " oh, I see them again-,- ' ; And "Sabbath Bells" joyfully ring. . Be still, oh, my heart, cease, cease this wild pain, For with, God and His ransomed our Nellie doth sing On the "Bright Golden Shore; " oh,1 forgive these last tears, -For you sang her farewell white so silent she lay, With her crown of sweet flowers, she who ladened the : . , And,-"Henry,- " I4s, : v , ' iJ year, ; And I thank thee, I thank thee for singing that day; In my heart's sacred chambers, oft memory will turn To that Sleeper, the singer, the song's gentle 'strain, Though crushed are the flowers and broken thtf urn, Their sweet fragrance eternal must ever remain.' Forget not the absent who mingled with you In the joys and the sorrows gone bye; Sweet memories' flowers my pathway "will strew, , " Immortelles, for they never can die. In bye and bye" may we all meet again, And renew the fond ties past, And sing to His praise in one glad refrain, , ' ... And in joy that forever will last- et of-th- , e ' ... '.. ; . Hope. CRAWFORD'S GLEN, About eight miles (Irish miles, which are almost i longer than the" English) from Belfast, is the little yillage of Crawfordsburn. It consists of a few houses, of primitive architectural style built together "along the road for a distance of forty or fifty rods-oone side and the same length on' the other, only the homes of the goodfolk on the latter side are more detached. Whatever chancres occur in the appearance of the'village, which, is named lium iuj proximity tu one oi me vyrawiora estates, are so gradual as to :pfbvoke lew exclamations of surprise, though their rar'ity subject them to more than general scrutiny. I should have said the village seems to take its name from tho Crawford's estate hard by; but fur gome unaccountable reason, or rather, for no reason whatever, the word "burn," which' follows the name Crawford instead, of conveying the'idea that it is Crawford's village," means literally Crawford's stream or brook. A "burn" ' is a small stream; and. as one flows through the estate it has been given the name.of the family.: n Tho presumption is that: the few cottages which now claim a postoffice, growing- up in r . - the yjcimty.of timi-burhave gradually appropriated, or been accorded, the name of. the! sweet little brook that winds its way through n brown of the grass foretold a rising green, the long, oval leaf of the laurel, which yields its -place ouly when forced to - make room for the new ones that annually succeed , it, already strewed the ground. From under tho thick covering of fast decaying foliage the green stems of a wild flower were beginning timidly to appear; but of the prevailing green which tells that spring is truly present, there was barelv a trace. Still, it was beautiful. The monotony of death was, relieved by the green of the ivy , which, from the ground far up, closely encircled the trunks of noble tree, ' whose denuded branches stood out skeleton-like- , elearlv dark ncainst tho blue skv. Thero was 1 -- green sod, . The, village has a local reputation for 'three reasons: It is near the shore of the Belfast Lough, reputed to rival the beauty of is the center of some of the Lake Geneva,-anmost charming country in the north of Ireland; it has one of the neatest, cleanest and. cosiest little inh3 in the three kingdoms; and lastly, it nestles on the yergo of a glen whose beauty, once seen, i3 never to be forgotten. It is this Crawfordsburn Glen of that gives glen the to the village such fame as it may enjoy, this that attracts the tourist, and, during summer, makes it the scene of visitation by hundreds in search! of natural beauty or a day's peaceable recreation. Though I have seen it times (without nnmW, I well remember the first walk I took through its winding length since the mystery of time effaced the more acute recollections which childhood gives to all. A lingering sense of something once known, not unlike the sensation one has when his feelings rather than ' his mind seem to recall a dream so fully forgotten that even the dim outlines no longer remain an inde finite; undefinable consciousness of forgotten pleasuresfloated through the mind, but left little, if: anything, to which one could )in even the thread of a recollection. As morning dawned the. murmur of waters falling close by, was the first of many indistinct sensations that g confusedly passed through my (breams. I saw myself long years ago standing beside a waterfall heaped about with an the soun abuneo of richest gr'cii,- watched the tender leaf come to full growth, seen the fair flowers of spring yield to the cf summer, these, in deeper and richer bloom .1 i i 111 turn, 8ucceeuea oy tue Drown tints ana iewer blossoms of autumn, and then all "covered with the snows of winter, and never gazed upon it when it was not a scene of. surpassing loveli'r--:- ?::';.: A; ness. .i i t ii i ADove tue village roau, aoout a scone a throw, is a dam, which feeds an old flour mill d , : .wtioantiy disturbed Uj icot, seemed to possess a strange, a fascinating naturalness. I could also see the yet kindly whose one. of glance injunctions I had disobeyed by wandering from a given spot; still, all was vague and uncertain. When half way half-threateni- ng down the Glen a strong tide of recollection lhe ocean breeze sweeps o er the --heart, and subfreighted with the odor of dued by the mild breath of a tardy spring, Rafted the wind over the gulf of intervening yearsi and' in a moment all became strangely familiar. I had inhaled every breeze from Yew York to England, drank in the gales 'along the coast of Scotland, and scented every zephyr from the land of thistles and heather to that of the Shamrock and St. Patrick, for that peculiar odor of land and wave which lingered in like the perfume of "a delicious flower recalled strongly after long years, and had never found it until now'. ' It was a spring day, but so early, or rather, spring waa so late, that no tree had yet begun, to put forth its leaves. A yellowish cast in the .sea-we- my-min- d ed i that has lately been converted into one for ejiwing up trees which have ceased to be useful m. mirnnsaa nnrl trw mira . i . rtlata frv il iiii.ii i.ti ji Iinn ft mrr in.nnmAal Iiiiuuu ' iliiii second T s walk those of younger growth. Ten uuo tutu uio uiuij uu tug jjboovu tli ia&, vuivugu an old gateway, on the right hand side of which is a solid stone wall. Through this wall a. branch of esca Ionia, or wild fuchsia, as thick as a man's wrist, has forced its way, from . 1 X wnicn cany m uuue, uuu on even iuio Novem1 . th. y, r . - half-wakin- I have nevrer so beautiful as in winter. it is the father of "The Tenanta'.Rights Act,"whoseJ, beneficial effects were not known until some years after his body had been laid beneath. the ; " the-"swe- the Crawford estate until its .complaining .mingle with those of the ocean about a mile'dietant. The village ha3' awide reputation for two reasons: It is'on the estate of the Earl of Dufferin, now Viceroy, of India, and it ha3 taken the name" of Sherman Crawford, a man whose brba.d and liberal, yet conservative views regarding,the policy that should be pursued iowar'd hif native laud, were far riper than the;time3'"n" which he livedo I.fh is jbade is alive to tho events now transpiring in the "Green Isle 6f the Ocean,", he may enjoy the consciousness of. knowing' how1 largely instrumental he ha3 been in contributing to whatever of recent liberality the English government has. 'accorded' his countrymen. lie is really' o, 1 I i. - 1 TkT 1 1 ber, a profusion of coral - pendants with pur- pie centres, hung within easy reach. "I have seen the thin arms of the wild rose, whose flowers were of spotless white, run through and through the. escalonia branches and min- gle its white bloom with the red and purple of its rival of the wall, until it stole so much of that' rival's coral hue as cat a blush of inef-abl-e tenderness over its own petals. The mill, while not ruined, is, nevertheless, partially moss grow and ivy hidden. As soon aa it has been passed is one fairly in the Glen. Three -waterfalls are near it. A small one almost at its edge, a larger one some thirty feet farther in size between these two, still down, and one, ' . 1 ll " Tl . )'ver. .Between ine secona ana mira iaus, a rustic bridge spans the stream, which is reached by a steep bridle path. Directly below the last fall ia a fair plat of green (in the midst of which stands a tall and gracetul treejlormed by the burn which sweeps to the right in a pleasing curve. At the point where the stream again turns to the left is a rustic seat.oerhung with laurel and beech.from which the three falls, the rustic bridge, the dense undergrowth . of : laurel, hazle, boxwood- and beech, the fringing of grass?J,he bloom of the milk white and pink thorne and the nobler trees, present a picture to tho eye such as ir never to bo forgotten. " ... 1 1 II. - TIia llt.tlfi 8trp..irnlaahed into foam. noura headlong over each successive full, tho jutting rocks, (now deeply bedded with waves) which interrupt its flow, and then glides away as though ashamed of the tumult it had half-coverin- . X Jl - ... . A. A. I- - I g sin ri TT oring to pen, down its clianging beauties and For reproduce lem on the faulty canvas. the greater part or the Ulen two pams ttaa down one' on tho right hand side of the stream, and one on the left When summer comes, with . |