"
The voice ceased. The king uttered a loud, hysterical laugh, descended
from his palace, and ran into the park, a raving maniac.
. . . . . . .
Stillness reigns in the home of Joram. No merry voices fall on the ear of
the passer-by. The few that move around the premises tread carefully and
silently, while solemnity settles on each countenance. The voice of song
is hushed; the loud peals of melody are no longer heard; and for many a
day the "Harp of Judah" has remained in its corner, and no delicate hand
has swept its well-tuned strings. Inside of that mansion to-day you
witness not that joy which is wont to pervade it. You perceive cheeks wet
with tears, and bosoms heaving with sighs. The inmates converse together
in whispers, and tread lightly. In an apartment richly furnished, into
which the beams of the sun are not permitted to enter, we find assembled
a large company of relatives and near friends. It is not an occasion of
small import that calls them thus together.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220