The Litchfield County post., 1827-10-11
THE VALE OF TEARS.
By BERNARD BARTON.

! THE VALE OF TEARS.
! By BERNARD BARTON.
In visions which not of night, shady vale see,
The path of pilgrim tribes who are, who have been,
or shall be:
At either end are lowering Clouds mpervous to the
sight,
And frequent shadows veil, throughout, each CLEAN OF
passing light;
path is Of Joy and grefs, of many hopes and fears
Gladdened at times by sunny smiles, but ofener dim
med by tears.
Green leaves there, they quickly fade bright flow
ers, but soon they die;
Its banks aved by pleasant streams, but their
bed is dry;
And some that roll on to the last with undmlnlshed
Have lost that lmpid purity which graced their early
source,
They seem to borrow in their flow the tnge of dark
And cen their mournfuI murmuring sound BELTS the
vale of tears.
Pleasant that valleys opening appear to child
hoods view.
The flowers bright the turf green, the sky above
is blue.
A blast may blight, beam may scorch, cloud may
intervene
But lightly marked, and forgot they not such
scene;
Fancy still paints the future bright, and hope the pre-
sent cheers,
Nor can we deem the path we tread leads through a
vale Oh years. w.
But soon, too soon, the flowers that decked carly
path-way-side,
Have dropped and withered on their stalks and on e
by one have died;
The turf by moons fierce heat is scared, the sky is
There's thunder in the torrents tone, and tempest in
the blast;
Fancy is but phantom found, and Hope dream ap-
And more and more our hearts confess this life vale
of tears.
Darker and darker seems the path how sad to jour-
ney on,
When hands and hearts which gladdened ours APP
pear forever gone.
Some cold in death, and some, alas we fancied could
not chill,
Living to SELF and to the world to us colder STILL
With mournful retrospective glance look to bright
years,
And tread with solitary STEP SP the stormy vale of tears
Then wasting pain and slow disease trace burrows on
the brow, &ks ~
The grasshopper, aighting down, is felt burthen
The silver chord is loosenng fast its feeble, slender
The fountains pitcher soon must break, and bowl OF
purer gold
Oh were aot for that blest Hope which even death
How weary were our pilgrimage through this dark
vale Of tears.
From the London Quarterly Reriew.
WRITTEN IN A CHURCHYARD.
Matthew, xvii.
Methinks it is good to be here:
II thou wilt let us build-but for whom I!
Nor Elias, nor Moses appear,
But the shadows of we, that encompass the gloom,
The abode of the Dead and the place of the tomb
Shall we build to ambition Oh, no.
Affrighted he shrinketh away;
For see they would pin him below,
To a small narrow cave and begirt with cold clay,
To the meanest of reptiles peer and prey.
To Beauty All no She forgets
The charms which she welded before
Nor knows the foul worm, that he frets
The skin which but yesterday fools could adore,
For the smoothness it held the tint which it wore.
Shall we build to the purple of pride,
The trappings which dizen the proud!
Alas! they are all laid aside
And here's neither dress nor adornment allow'd-
But the long winding sheet & the fringe OF the shroud
To Richesl Alas tits in vain!
Who hid, in their turns have been hid:
The treasures are squanderd again
And here in the grave are all metals forbid,
But the tinsel that shone the dark coffin Ind.
To the pleasures which worth can afford
The revel, the laugh and the jeer!
All! here is plentiful board! a.
But the guests are all mute their ptful cheer,
And none but the worm is reveller here. A.
Shall we build to Affection and Love?
All, no they have wtherd and died
Or fled with the spirit above
Friends, brothers, and sisters, and laid side by side
Yet none have selected and none have replied.
Unto Sorrow! the dead cannot grieye:
Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear,
Which compassion itself could relieves
All! swee,ly they slumber, nor hope, love, or fear
Peace peace is the watch word, the only one here!
Unto death, to whom monarchs must bow
All no! for his empire is known, @
And here there are trophies enow
Beneath, the cold dead, and around the dark stone
Are the signs of scepue, that none may disown!
The first tabernacle to Hope we will build,
And look for the seepers around us to rise!
TRS second to Faith, which ensures it fulflld
And the third to tleIamb of the great sacrifice
Who bequeathed ny slem both, when he rose to the
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