The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1830-05-05
THE UNQUIET SLEEPER.
By ,. o. WHITTIER.

Some fifty or sixty yours since, an inhnbi-
tant of----N. Fl. was found dead little dis.
tance from his dwelling, which he left in the
morning in perfect health. There is story
prevalent among the people oftho neighbour.
hood, that, on the evening off the day on which
he was found dead, strange cries are annually
heard to issue from his grave We have con.
vorsed with some who really supposed they
had heard them in the dead Of the night, ris.
ing fearfully on the Autumn wind They rep.
resented tho sounds to be Of a most appalling
and unearthly nature Idle as this story may
be, we have made il the subject Of the follow.
ing lines:
The Hunter went forth with bis dog and gun,
In the earliest glow Of the golden sum
The trees Of the forest bent over his way,
In the changeful colours Of Autumn gay,
For tho frost had fallen the right before,
On the quiet greenness which Nature wore.
A bitter frost!-for the night was chill
And starry and dark, and the wind was still,
And so when the sun looked out on the hills,
On the stricken woods and the frosted rils,
The UNMARRIED green Of the landscape fed,
And u wild rich robe was given instead,
We know not whittier the hunter went,
Or how the last Of his days was spent;
For the noon drew nigh-but he came not back
And his wife sat down TO her frugal board,
Beside the empty scat Of her lord.
And the day passed on, and tho sun came down
To the hills Of the west like an angels crown,
The shadows heightened from wood and hill,
The mist cropt up from the mcaaow.rill,
III the broad sun sank, and the red light rolled
All over the West like a wave Of Gold
Yet no came not back-though tho stars gavc
forth
Their wizard light to the silent Earth;--
Aud his wife looked out from the lattice dim
In the earnest manner of fear for him;
And his fair haired child on tho door stone
stood
To welcome his father back from tho woodl
Ilc came not back!-yot they found him soon, /,
In the burning light Of tho morrow's noon,
ln tho fixed and vsionless sleep of Death,
Where tho rod leaves fell ut tho soft winds
breath;
And the dog whose step in the chase was feet,
Srouched silent and sad at the hunters feet
Ho slept in death--bu his sleep was ono,
Which his neighbours shuddered to look upon,
For his brow was black, and his open eyo
Was rod with the sign of agony;--
And they thought, rs they gazcd on his feat
That an evil deed had been dono on him.
They buried him where his fathers laid,
BY the messy mounds in the grave. yard shade,
Yet whispers Of doubt passed over the dead,
And beldames muttered while prayers were
said,
And the hand orthe sexton shook as he press d
The damp earth down on tho hunters breast.
The seasons passed and tho Autumn rain
And the coloured forest returned again,
Twas tho very eve that the hunter died,
Tho winds valid over the hare hill side,
And the wrcathlng limbs of tho forest shook
Their red leaves over tho swollen brook.
There came sound on the night air then,
Likc II spirit shrek, TO the homes Of men,
And louder and shriller it rose again
Like the fearful cry of tho mad with pain;
And trembled alike the timid and brave,
For they knew that it came from tho hunters
grave!
And, every year, when Autumn h:ngs
Its beautiful robo on created things,
When Piscataquas tide is turbid with rain,
And Cochccos woods are yellow again,
That cry is head from the grave yard earth,
Like the howl Of n demon struggling forth