The Trinity times., 1855-08-11
EELR TED FOE TRY.
The Closing Scene.

= = ~ ~ s-
The Closing Scene.
By T. BUCHANAN READ.
Within the sober realm Of leahess trees
J he russet year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned reaper in his hour Of ease
When all the fields are lying brown and
bare.
The pray barns, looking from their hazy
hills
Der the dim waters, widening in the wales,
Sent down the AIR greeting to the mills,
On the dun thunder Of alternate fails.
All sights were mellowcd, and all sounds
subducd
The hlll- seemed farther, and the streams
sng low;
As in dream, the distant woodman hewed
His winter log with many mufiled blow.
The em5attled forests, erewhile, armed in
Their banners bright with every martial
hue,
Now stood, like some snd beaten host 0! old,
Withdrawn afar ia Times remotest blue
On tlumberous wings the yulture tried his
hipht;
The dove scarce heard his s'ghing mates
complaint;
And Ike a star. slow drowning in ,hr ! Qht.
The village church yane seemed 10 pale
aud faint.
II g sentinel cock upon the Hill side crew
n tI. h..
fnre-
Silent till some replying wnrder blew
Ills alien horn, and then was heard no
more.
Where, erst, the joy within the elms tall
crest
Made garrulous tronble round her un-
fcdgcd young
And uhere tie oriolrhung her swnyng n"st,
By every hghtwlud like cen'or swung
Where snng the noisy masons Of the caves
The busy swallows cIrcling ever made,
Tor, bodiug NJ the rustic mind 6tl ewes
An early harvest, and plenteous year.
Where every bird which charmed the vcrDal
Shook the sweet slunbcr from his ings
~ morn,
To warn the rear ers of the rosy enst -
All now was SOM less. empty. aud iorlorr.
Alone from nut the -iubble, pipcd the quail.
And cruakcd the CROW, through all the
dreamy ploom;
Alone the pheasant, drumming in the vale,
Made echo to the distant cottage loom.
There wns no bud, no bloom upon the bowers ;
The a,dcr. woye their thin shrouds night
b night:
The Il ,tl, 4 ,wn. the only ghost Of flowers.
SIll,d ,lowly by poss,d nos'less out OF
eight.
Amid all ,his--in this most chcerless air,
And where the woodb ne shed upon the
porch
Its CRIMSON leaves as If the year stood there
Fning he floor with his inverted torch =
Amid nh this. the centre Of the scene,
The white haired matron with monotonous
~-~~~~
Pied The swift wheel, and with her joyless
mien,
sa. like a Fate, and watched the flying
thread.
She had known sorrow. He had walked
with her,
OF .upp"d, and broke with her the ashcn
crust;
And, in The dead leaves, still she heard the
sir
or his black mantle trailing in the dust
While yet her cheek was bligh, with summer
bloom,
Her country summoned, and she gave her
all,
And twice, war bowed to her his sable
Re.gnye the swords, to rust upon the wall.
Ee-cavc the swords-but not tho hand that
drew,
And stuck for liberty the dying blow
Nor him. who to- his sire and country true,
Fell mid the ranks of the invading foe.
Long but not loud, the drouing wheel went
on,
Like the low murmurs Of hive ut noon
Lowe. but not loud, the memory of the gone.
Brcaihrd through her lips sad and
trcmulous tuue.
AT last tho thread was snnpped-her head
WAS bowed
Lie d,opp,d the dlstaG through his hands
serene;
And loving neighbors smooIhcd her careful
shroud
While Death and Winter closed the Au-
tumn scene"
4 writer in the North Biiisi Rou.er con
.iders The Closing Scene the best poem
ever written by an American! The illu.tri
Gus critic proba ly never read Bryant
"Thanntop is"
CrRous TyroCBArulcAL ERRoR - Prof
French. in his lutttt work IN lhe Euglirl