Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1847-06-17
Summer Time,

They were right-those old German mines
ngers,-to sing the pleasant summer-time!-
What time it is!-IIow June stands Illuminated
in the calendar! The windows are all wide op-
en- only the Venetian blinds closed. Here and
there long streak of sunshine streams in through
crevice. We hear the low sound of the wind
among the trees; and, as it swelIs and freshens.
the distant doors clap too, with sudden sound
The trees are heavy with leaves; and the gardens
full of blossoms, red and white The whole at
mosphere is laden with perfume and sunshine
The birds sing, the cock struts about and crows
loltily Insects chirp in the grass Yellow but
ter-cnps stud the green carpet like golden but
tons, and the red blossoms of the clover like ru-
bies. The elm trees reach their long, pendul-
GUS branches almost to the ground White
clouds sail aloft and vapors fret the blue sky
with silver threads. The white village CLEANS
afar against the dark hills. Through the mead
ow winds the riyer,--careless, ndoIent 1t seems
to love the country, and is in no haste to reach
the sea. The bee only is at work. hot and
angry bee All things else arc at play; he never
plays and is vexed that any one should.
People drive out from town to breathe, and tc
be happy. Most of them have flowers in then
hands; punches of apple-blossoms, and still oft.
ener lIacs. Ye denizens Of the crowded city
how pleasant to you is the change from the sui
try streets to the open fields fragrant with clover
blossoms! How pleasant the fresh breezy coun-
try air, dashed with brine from the meadows!-
| how pleasant, above ALL the flowers the manifold
beautiful fowersl
1t is no longer day. Through the trees rise,
the red moon, and the stars are scarcely seen.-
In the vast show of night, the GOODNESS and thC
dews descend. sit at the open window to en-
Joy them; and hear only the voice OF the SUN
mer-wnd. Like black hulks, the shadows
of the great trees ride at anchor on the bill
Lowry sea of grass. | cannot see the red anc
blue flowers, but know that they are there
Far away in the meadow CLEANS the silver Char
les The tramp of horses hoofs sounds from thu
wooden bridge Then all is still, save the con
tnuous wind of the summer-night Sometime
| know not if it be the wind or the sound of tn
neighboring sea. The village clock Strikes an,
feel that am not alone.
: How different is it in the city! 1t is late an,
the crowd is gone You step out upon the bal
cony, and lie in the very bosom of the COOL dew
2 night, as if you folded her garments about yor
2 Beneath lies the public walk with trees, like
a fathomless, black gulf, into whose silent dark
r ness the spirit plunges and floats away, wit
: some beloved spirit clasped in its embrace. Th
: lamps are still burning up and down the Ion
# street. People 90 by, with grotesque shadows
, now foreshortened and now lengthening ava
h into the darkness and vanishing, while ne
}, one springs up behind the walker, and seems
+ pass him on the sidewalk The iron gates of tn
e park shut with jangng clang. There al
/ footsteps and loud voices, -tumult "a drunke
P brawI,-an alarm of hre;-then silence agar
d And now at length the city is asleep, and "
a can see the night The belated moon looks o
n er the roof, and finds no one to welcome her.
); The moonlight is broken. 1t lies here and thel
l. in the squares, and the opening streets,-angul
e like blocks of white marble.-LongtcltOw.