San Andreas independent., 1858-05-15
Written for the San Andreas 1ndependentl
THE DYING BARD.
BY "ALrH.'

Twas autumn: The sun had set behind the
Mountains crest Twilight deepened on
Inc hliis The nightingale was pensive and
Mute: All was solemn and still. save the breeze,
Which softly sighed as it swept, on; and
The gladsome spring joyousIy wandering
Amid the groves. Silence, calm and dreary,
Reigned supreme.
In little valley,
Walled In by massive rocks and snowy
Peaks on every side, ruined cabin
Stood, through whose shattered roof the fent rays
Of fckering lamp stole doubtfuly
Forth. and smiled on the beetIing crags near
By; like the last beam of Hope, playing DER
The ruins of q broken heart. 1t was
desolate spot; yet beautiful in
lis utter loneliness Poesy could
Love It Music linger there, and thought make
1t it's own abode. The ever-shifting surge
VI time, left it unchanged. save here and
There with -red oak, showed where his hand
Had been.
Twould seem that restless man had stunned
The sweet influences of its sOtudes,
Yet it was not so. In that lonely hut
Upon couch Of leaves and rushes Law
An Old man; whose long white hair fell
Like snow upon his shoulders. His once proud
And noble form, had wasted slowly, but
Surely, away. His broad and commanding
Brow, was written DER by the finger of
Griei and drawn tightly down. His finely
Chiseled lips. were tin and boodess; while
lis broad chest rose and fell, like Hopes light bark
On the waves of Fear. All bespoke bliglted
Love, the wreck OF power. and broken heart.
calm Indifference to all things,
Should have said had not bright flashing of
His eagle eyes belied the thought.
Ever as he turned him on lis rude
Misshapen bed, words of strange import
Came Kissing from between his clenched teeth
As if before his steady gaze We're spread the
sunny plain, on which he first hailed
The light of lifr's uncouded dawn. BLESSED
By chiidhoods thoughtless years; there his hand
First touched the tuneful chords, and sweeter
Never came, unwelcomed by song. Twas there,
He taught his skilleSs harp to breathe its
Sweetest lays till kings honOred the noble
Bard. and twned the minstrers wreath with the
Warriors sword.
Unused to think as
Others thought, to cringe and bow at others
Beck, his naughty soul refused with
The mandates of higher power; and
With his harp divine he left his native
Land for distant cmes. Gold, honors, fame,
And flowers marked his path
For wears he
Roved, wrapped in cold reserve, disIaining
All but fancys golden dreams and Musics
Heavenly tones. Often mingng with the
Gay he tired soon. Mirth had no charms for
Him. Loves star dmmed forever;
And Hope had fled the silent chambers of
His shattered heart. The wreathe which he once
Proudly wore was given to the jealous,
Winds and the dark-eyed daughters of CASTLE.
Wondered if he e'er Lad loved,
Sped on, and weary with the busy and
Heartless world he sought home amid
The rocks, wherein to dwell, secure from its
Jaded pleasures Its solitude soothed
His bleeding heart, and camed his sensitive
Spirit. There, he could reve in the bliss
OF his wild immaginings Of lovely
Visions and gmpses of floating spheres oft
Dimly beautiful; to which, his pining soul
Longed to and rest forever by
Musics golden fouIts
At night bright winged,
Angels came and beckoned him away. BY
Day, fond Fancy pointed with her airy
Finger to a farer land; while Music
Stealing to his side, whispered of strains
Sweeter than Earth had ever heard. The loved
Stood by him in the moonlight, and smiled
Hopes star, SO long clouded, cast aside
Its veil. and shed its beams upon him. Health
Denied him its blessing. H. fed on
Dreams and Musc,-whe thought like flame
Consumed him day by day, till weakness wrapped he
Robe around him and laid him in Lis couch
To rise no more
sat by his side for
Days, and gave him drink. He knew me not; yet
'Oit he fixed his eyes mine, and called me
By an unknown name. He rarely spoke.
Reasons throne tottering, and fell at last;
When springing forth. he caught his harp
And swept its silent chords, then from its breast,
Poured food of the most equisite
Tones. The strings rent-the Harp fell and th
Bard was dead. On that last wild strain, his
Spirit fled
yALLEcIro Calaveras County, Califa, May 10th, 1853