Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1853-11-23
N0R, e.
A Letter from the Junior.
CAD1N, Nov. lob, 1853.

@hhA"p WV" AvS1y AoCOs
SENIOR Here is a day to please you and
stir the music Of the souls hidden harp. The
wind, this morning, played a grand overture
among the boughs Of the brown forest TO the
march Of approaching winter, but atnoonday
broad fecks Of native sunshine opensa thous-
and bright vistasi in the distant wilds of storm
and cloud. The hoary king has breathed up
on the hills and the meadow, and the dry
leaves chase each other across the plain, and
withered grass crisp under our feet as we
stroll along the brook side where, last June,
tho perch and minnow came out from their
hiding places TO look up at the sun. Autumn
is not without its pleasures the eye grows
bright and tho heart throbs wildly as we
gaze uponit-life's evening harbor-on which
the sunbeams Of the old years last hours
CLEAN and glitter from the western sky.
When I left you, the natural sky was hung
in mourning and the heavens wept. 1t was
n gloomy. cold and chcerless day. looked
out through the window upon the spires and
nude oaks Of the city and upon the blue orb
above the Capitol. Forests, fields and homes
werc passed on my way to the Cabin
Hero were cold herds shivering in the blast,
and there sunny faces, tinged with the rose
tints Of health, smiling through cottage win
dows rs we passed-withered rosebuds 10y
the garden wall and great oaks stretching
their barren arms upward, wondering that
soul possessing man should so seldom look
up to Heaven.
1 have ruralised since l saw you. Here
the wealth Of the forest-the golden leaves
and the brown ~nuts-rustle around your feet
and before you in tho path that leads by the
old mill. Old vigor warns the heart and
strengthens mind and body, as we roam the
forests and climb the russell hills.
The day and the season have c%onspired to
awake old memories and call up the phan-
toms Of the past, and lay at full length a
mong the playful leaves and look up to the
blue sky, its white clouds, and listen to the
murmuring songs Of Autumn. Who can for
get the wild rambles Of childhood, DER heath
and hill, when the nuts showered down
like rat,ling hail upon the dry leaves-and
the scramble Of merry fellows with their red
hands ~ploughing under the fallen robes Of
Summer for the sweet treasure? And who
can forget the little baskets carried home full
of the dainty morsels for the loved one,
there /? And who can forget the woodland
swing, among the tall trees in the vale, where
we gathered, and one by one, like the lark
flew up among the blithe spirits of the air
while the Autumn zephyrs played among
and tossed up our golden locks +? Our pulse
reel with kind feelings as the memory of oil
days come rushing upon us. And sorrow
flaps, her wing upon the bright page of othe
days, when we think of that loved one VIII,
foil in our wild games and died in her moth
er's arms that night. Her laugh rings in m,
ears yet-the same wild music as she flew
through the air the last time in our wood
land swing and fell at the foot of the cliff an,
whispered she was dying, and asked to b
taken to her mother. ALL poor Carrie, tn
flowers the young mourners planted on you
little green grave yet bloom in the sprinI
time, and men and women, who were child
rem then, 60 to the little hillock and drop
tear for poor dead Carrie !
The blue hills in the west pierce the sky
and the fringed horizon on every hand bend
down and mingles with the old earth, and W
lay among the leaves and dream of the pas
more than we can tell. "God made tn
Country" and His blessings are poured on
upon it. 1 find myself involuntarily hun
ming over Rogers stanzas, entitled "a Wish,
and with n quotation Of the same l will close
"Miue be n cot beside tho hill
A bee hives hum shall sooth my ear
A willowy brook that turns a mill,
With many a fall shall linger near.
The swallow oft, beneath my thatch,
Shall twittcr from her ~clay-built nest
Of shall the pilgrim lift the latch,
And share my meal a welcome guest.
Around my ivyod porch shall spring
Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew
And Lucy at her Wheel shall sing,
In russell gown and apron blue.
Tho village church, among the trees,
Where first our marriage vows were given,
With merry peals shall swell the breoze,
And point with taper spire to to Heaven"
The Appeal to the People," issued b
the late Temperance Convention, is awakel
ing q renewed interest in the Reform.
Yours, for the Conflict,
JUNIOR.