Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1847-09-17

III 'he euIuy uHe OF june
Mid the brook that murmurs yonder,
Deep the weary OK is wading
TO the cool retreat, far under
Where the arching boughs o'ershading,
Shun the fly,
Tiresome yoke, and burning sky.
Happy valley so s%erenely
Mornings toilsome season closing;
Fen the scythe, that moved so keenly,
Rake and haystack seem reposing;
Vale and hill,
Rural noontide-warm and still.
Long the thirsty fields have waited,
OF refreshing nectar dreaming;
But the tokens have abaIed,
Every hope fallacious seeming;
Dropping low,
All the harvests mourn the wo.
Voice beyond the mountains !-hearken!
Natures awful bass is pealing;
Clouds the fair horizon darken,
Over all the valley Stealing
Up! prepare!
There's a deluge in the air!
Now the distant woods awaken,
Where the gusty wind is calling;
Now the nearer trees are shaken,
And the great round drops are falling;
Take the lane!
There will be drenching rain
Homestead ours was very lowly,
Rafters on the lattice pressing;
Yet though humble, it seemed holy
For, when God sent down his blessing
From the cloud,
The old roof would sing aloud
With the Past as memory mingles,
Often yet mine ear is listening
For that anthem of the shingles
Hopeiul-tiIl mine eye is glistening
With this truth
Gone the music of my youth
Now descends the trimming fountain!
Window, door and ewes are dripping;
Der the pasture, up on the mountain,
Scampering cattle soon outstrip2ing-
Onward yet
All the landscape drowning wet!
Leisure now for jest and story,
Village news, or song, or reading,
Ballad tales of love and glory:
All the Gathering storm unheeding,
Let it pour
Cannot reach the old oak floor!
Peace within that household ever;
Loves sweet rule each breast controlling
Truths high precepts broken never
What though clouds around are rolling
Let them roll
Theirs the sunshine of the soul!
Matchless Painter leaf and flower
All their faded hues Ieyiyinu.
How the garden drinks the shower,
Life and loneliness deriving;
Grove and glade
All in sprightly pearls arrayed.
Fen less mournlul yon lone willow,
By the churchyard ever weeping;
And the daisies DER each pillow
Where the blessed dead are sleeping,
Seem TO Jay
We revive-and SO will they.
ionder, at the Inn, together
Fast a wayside group collecting;
Much discourse of rainy weather.
Idle almanac rejecting,
Boy and man
Each predicting all he can.
Hark the ring Of happy voices;
Wagon from the school appearing;
How each drowning imp ~rejoices,
AS the puzzled team 90 veering
Gee, and haw,
With the noisy load they draw.
Slowly eventide advances;
Fanny the repast preparing,
Slyly from the easement g~lances;
Who the youth the storm uncaring
At The gate!
Bushes Fanny-whispers Kate.
Is he stranger worn with travel,
Refuge from the torrent seekiDgi
Timid looks the doubt u%nravel,
Looks all eloquently speaking!
Happy guest,
With a welcome so contest!
Earnest he apologies,
From the mill in haste returning,
(Ah, forgive young loves DISCUSSES,
although it rains, his heart is burning;)
He will stay
Just a m on his way.
Round the ready board all seated,
Now the fragrant tea is pouring,
And the grateful grace repeated,
HIM, all bountiful, adoring,
From whose hand
Showering plenty cheers the land.
Now the motley barn-yard nation,
Cackling, lowing, neighing, squealing,
Crowd at their accustomed station,
For the evening fare appealing;
Hsstens Ned
And the poor wet things are fed.
Forth from home the dairy maiden
Rears aUav her milkv traaeuraa