Litchfield enquirer., 1854-10-05
.Wsceliapg.
FvK HE ENQUIRER Thoughts for the Thinker No. V
ETsvGYpos A1G11ros. PIER OM A.


 AvG Sl, l854.-The last day 0: Sum mer what summer to one human soul {!
 Ass man. buried for lite in duhgeon from the bolt of which they drew and broke and scatlered ia fragments, the only ---the iaduplicable key, gets through some loop, hole in the thick walls. dim sense of living world. shadow of bird wing. perhaps. crossing that Assure. o, mon,entary twinklipg transit of star. or bee. like hum of secular activities --so. in the chained prisonment of it's being. has the mind of whose pulses am conscious. caught 2 immers O ex'e,ior light and joy -bul with the impious Lalf mu, mur, they can never be mine. 'as s''@
 o Sumner to-day looking thy las, upon the ,wsr'd thou hast gi.ted so with beauty. and upon the living hearts to whom divcssely thou has, minisiered grief or smiles. look thy Is. upon me. Frre- well go to thine oblivion. Bu. with thee goes not one shrobbing emotion thou hast quickened-one deaihless experience thou hast wrought. Peace to thy shadow --faie thee well But not thus. at word perish from me thy scolcl ing foot. p, ints. nay nor thy la,e, offices of sweetest love :: for God, Cieatef of Ugh. out of darkness. charged thee. strange doer of his will, alike with horror and peace for me.
 o, Summerl witch what terrific VI hiri- wind. and fiery soul-droaght, and fierce emotion, hast thou rncked. and rifted. and sh,ivelled this mazed and helpless sphi .
 Q. Summer passed in chief upon the beach--noi of the briny. waving Sea, bathing myself amid it's images of gran. deur and joy. Would 1t had been. Ocean -Aihy thunder beaten shore. thus ttcdden by day. by night. under such awful fas> cination. In all thy voices. saddened, or of wrath. in all thy lumul,uous l,cavings, in the eternal silence of thy depths, are thinhtritS of profound calmness and peace 10 me. How grandIy. vpon my child hea,t. long yeats ago. fssbed the dazz' ling sheen of thine emerald waves, like light of Gods eyc. How often. often-ah they tease not echoing yet, '. se spirit>brsalhings -lforn thy shudder. ing verge, plsintiye and iiiisty si ghings- blent wiih murmurs of tine exhausted surf -stiaDge under cho, ds, as of the pant;ng. human life. wrapped ih thy cold wet shroud. O Sea l--irrepressible gaspings of Deaths myriad prey. thrust into thy vast caves. iD all his ages of wild ravening cruise over tiiy sicrmy waste. O See !! :. | Hath other than thou. my soul. listened that ghost, wall of the Ocean-or is it. Inst. as nigh the grave of one's buried heart. shadows and zspbyrs seem forms and whispe.ings from elss rily=p phantom sighs haunt thy beach lof me. of dear ones sspulchred ;n thy vault. o Sea ? hear them still, as tie shell in my eabins.. keeps vi hin its homes sick heart. undyiug voices of the tide and wave. Strange sounds. yesaFather, nebulae oi sopnd, inarliculste minglings of ethereal vitrAtion--moist exhslings of sobbing desire, of piteous bbmsD yearnihgs. as Il tm"liors Oi drowned hearts Iings,e cd upon and et.T haunted thee. cagnivorOus Sea But bos thsrs. on clif or strand Of the salt, billowy main--not amid ulterances ot natnl e. even such e these. have spen, she infinite hours oG misesy compressed within thess GeH Wesks of Summers stay. Not thsrs Z Oh from the yaWping