A PLASTER CAST FROM POMPEII.

Southland Times, Issue 613, 2 January 1867, Page 3

A PLASTER CAST FROM POMPEII.

[eboh "masteb and schoiab," &c, bx c. h. PLtrMTBE.] [In recent excavations at Pompen the dust in which the city was entombed was found to have taken the mould of the bodies of a group of men, women and chUdren, who appeared to have taken refuge in the courtyard of a vUla. To remove the mould was impossible, but plaster of Paris was poured in, and the cast thus obtained (one of them that of a girl of sixteen or seventeen) are now in the Museum there. — Bevue des Deux Mondes, xlvn. p. 231.] Once I was young and fresh, fair with the fairest ; Now thou who standest there know'st not, nor carest ; Then the youths sang my praise, flushed with the dancing. Now thine eye coldly falls, here and there glancing. Lo ! the hot air was thick, stifling and steaming ; Through the grey mist the sun rose, dimly gleaming. Then a wUd flash of fire, crash as of thunder j All faces black with fear, aU sick with wonder. Then the white dust feU fast, blinding our vision ; Men who had feared the gods mocked in derision ; Mockers in fear feU down, Death's speU upon them j Gamesters threw up their dice ; Hades had won them. Hushed was the minstrel's song, stiff grew the Uthest ; All the stout hearts waxed faint, awe-struck the blithest ; I to my mother ran, Love's shelter seeking ; Men sought their wives and babes, gasping, not speaking. StiU the hot dust came down, choking our breath then, And on our hearts there feU darkness of death then ; Friends, mothers, chUdren fled, in the dark meeting, Whispering, ere life had fled, last words of greeting. Flowers in my hair were twined, gracefully braided Now by the scorching blast withered and faded - Necklet of gold I wore, pearls that I cherished — These thou hast looked on here, all else has perished. I to the court-yard gate rushed in my madness, After wUd throbs of dread, fear conquering sadness, There they were met, my friends, father, and mother, Faithful slave, lover true, sister and brother. So we faced death at last, each to each dinging ; Some in their wUd despair, frenziedly singing ; Most with clenched hands and Ups, stiffened with sorrow ; We, who were met there then saw no tomorrow. Bright was the life we Uved ; this was its ending. Had we provoked the gods, blindly offending ? Did they look down in wrath, jealously grudging, Did they chastise our guilt, righteously judging ? Long had those fires of heU peacefuUy slumbered ; Men Uved, and toUed, and loved, years none had numbered ; ' Now the dread doom came on, sent without warning ; Sunk in the night of death, where was our morning ? Gladly our years had passed, buying and selling, Dancing with pipe and harp, lovers' tales telling; Now the fierce wrath of gods dried up life's fountain; Fire-streams none knew tiU then flowed from yon mountain. One there was, even then, tranquU, nnaltered ; Calmly he looked on death, voice had not faltered: Strange in his blood and speech, men looked with jeering ; Girls, in their pride of heart, shrank back, half fearing. Now as we sank in death came his voice clearer, First Bounding far away, then near and nearer : Voice, as of one who prays, eagerly pleading, For friends, and foes, and aU, stUl interceding. "So once of old the fire burst on Lot's city ; So Thou dost smite us now, Lord of aU pity. Through all the crowds I see, aged or youthful, Not ten, nor five are found, righteous and truthful " Yet, Lord, have mercy now, spare those who perish; Take them and teach them, Lord, chasten and cherish ; Babes in the dawn of life, youths in its morning, Thou hast redeemed them, Lord, not one soul scorning." Such were the words we heard, strengthening and cheering : So we sank down to sleep, hoping, yet fearing ; Just for one breath we- knew what death's strange . calm meant, Then we were Bafe entombed, dust our embalmment. Now we Ue side by side, none knows our story, What has come after death, darkness or glory ; None reads the lesson right, awe-struck with wonder, Though these clay Ups might speak louder than thunder. Go thou, who standest there tranquUly dreaming. Learn the stern truths that Ue under all seeming, Feeding the pride of life, thou thyself starvest ; Thine is the seed-time now ; whose is the harvest ?