Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1855-01-04
The Leaves of Autumn.

Ine Leaves OF Autumn.
The leaves are falling, in town and country,
in forest, pasture, lane and street. All along
on the cold stones, emblems of decaying ma
ture-of the fall of all things that live and
move on the EARTH
Sweeping, sweeping, every day are thou
sand brooms to gather up the fallen leaves that
have fallen where they are not wanted. They
are never wanted where they fall, and fallen
leaves are always getting into somebody's
way, and so the broom is set to work to get
them out of his path, but greater broom is
sweeping down, leaving the limbs where they
were growing SO green and beautiful only
few days ago, stark and stiff as things of death
rather than life. Sweep, sweep, sweep, and
still the leaves come down like the fakes of
the first snow Of autumn. only that they have
none of that whiteness.
And if they had, like city snow, how soon
all that purity would be lost-trampled under
the army of feet that crush the falling leaves
of autumn down into miry bed.
Alas it is not only the leaves falling from
the trees that are trampled under foot. Buds,
blossoms, and fruit-the fruit OF human toll
yea, human life, all fall to the earth, and are
swept out OF the way, or trampled under foot
trodden down into the mire, where they perish
as the leaves-the fallen leaves of autumn
Who counts the fallen-who cares where they
fall, so that they do not fall in our path, or are
soon swept out of it.
Last year-no, it was the year before-when
the leaves were falling, we were out in the
country where maple leaves, tinted with gold,
and all the variegated hues that make up the
richness of the autumn, in an American for
est. IT'S glorious sight, which the painter
has often attempted to deineate, but always
ending where he begun-in an attempt. 1t is
beauty that must be seen in the woods, not
in the picture gallery.
Among the splendors of that scene of peace
full Joy, when the tinted leaves glittered like
things of gold, silver, crimson and emerald,
just before the season of falling leaves, we met
young girl just budding into womanly beau
ty. Seventeen times had she seen the leaves
of autumn fall, and the flowers of spring bios
som into life, and hers was all like the latter,
always blooming, never falling
! No frost had ever touched leaf of her tree
Of life-no bird that sings among the green
leaves and fragrant flowers of spring, was
more cheerful and happy than this country
girl
But like nearly all Of her class she had a
longing desire-a burning curiosity to come to
the city.
'Only, said she, for one day, if could
only see New York, | would come home con-
tented. do wish father would let me go il
he don't, | shall run away some day for curl
osity.'
Vainly we tried to satisfy that curiosity by
descriptions of all that is most curious in this
most curious enchanted isle of Manhattan
1t was soothing for time, but we fear it was
like the fresh fuel added to the fire it only
burnt the fresher, after it was left to itsel
again TO slowly kinde into a blaze.
Because she wore as many tints as the ma
ple-because her hair was auburn-her eyes
blue--her teeth pearl-her skin so white and
smooth, and cheeks so rosy-her voice so sill
very, and heart pure as gold-we called hel
the Autumn Leaf
Time is fleeting. How quickly two years
fitted past and brought again the season O
autumn leaves, but not the remembrance O
her whom we had in sporting mood called the
Autumn Leaf; for like others, cherished fol
the time, she had faded from our remembrance
until one evening-late hours we sometimes
wander-when the autumn leaves were falling
almost as thick as the pelting drops Of the
cold October storm that brought them dowr
upon our head, and carpeted the pavement a
our feet, all at once the forgotten country
scene of two years past came rushing into ou
mind, as we toiled on our way. Wha
brought it back, and at such time9 The
falling leaves! Or was it some magnetic in
fuence connected with that Leaf of autumn
This scene was unlike that. That was al
light and sunsfine-this all storm and dark
ness. Yet the sight of that came back so viv.
id that it absorbed all thoughts of the present
and we went on mechanically We wondered
, flour little Autumn Leaf had ever been waftet