Brookville American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1858-1861, 1858-06-25
Ectoes Of tte Beautiful.
TUE ut ocTUn crHuE
BY t. BUcHANAN REED.

The following Is pronounced by the Westminster
Review to be unquestionably the best American
Poem ever written:
Within the sober realm Of eahess trees,
The russct year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned reaper in his hour Of ease,
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
The gray barns, looking from their hazy hills,
Ger the dun waters, widening In the wales,
Sent down the air a greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder Of alternate fails.
All sights were mcllowed, and all subdued;
The hills seemed further, and the stream sang
As in a dream; the distant woodman hewed
His winter log, with many a mufied blow.
The embattled forest, ere while armed IN gold,
Their banners armed with every martial hue,
Now stood like some sad, beaten host Of old,
Withdrawn afar in Times remotest blue.
On sombre wings the vulture tried her fight;
The dove scarce heard his signing mates COM
plant;
Andii star slow drowning in the light.
The village church vane seemed TO pale and faint.
The sentinel cock upon the hillside crew
Crew twice-and all was stiller than before;
Silent, .ii some replying warder blew
Ills alien horn, and then was heard no more.
vh~-. erss the iav. within the elm's tall crest.
Make rarruious trouble round her unfedged
Young.
And where tho oriole hung her swaying nest,
By every light wind like n censor swung.
Where sang the noisy martins Of the caves,
The busv swallows. circling near
Forehodinr. as the rustic mind believes.
An carly harvest and plenteous year.
where everv bird which charmed the vernsl feast.
Shook the sweet slumher from It's wing at morn,
To warn the rcarers NJ the ROSY east:
All now soui-less. empty and forlorn.
Alore from ont the stuhhlo. pincd tho quail;
And e-naked the crow thro' al the drcary gloom;
Alone. the pheasant drummed in the vail,
Made echo to the distant cottage loom.
Thc-e WI. no bud. no b'oorn nron the howers;
The sniders move their thin shrouds night by
n;rhl.
Tb. shi.,ie down, the oniv ghost of flowers.
Sailed slowly by-passing noisciess out Of sight.
Avid all ,his. in this mort cherries air.
AMI whore the woodhine she'd upon the porch
r,s c-imson leaves, ~ " the wear stood there,
riring the floor with his inverted torch
Arid al This. the ccnirc of tho scene.
Tho white haired matron with mnnotonous tread,
prod the swirs wheel. and with her iovous mein.
Sat like n Fate and watched the flying thread.
sAe had known sorrow Tie had walked with her'
on snnped and broke with hc- the nshcn crust
And ~ The dead leaves stli she heard the stir
or his black mantle stirring In the dust.
White vet her check wns bright with summer bloom
Her country summoned and she gave h"r ALL
And twice war bowed 10 her his sable plume
Re-gavo the sword 10 rust upon the WALL
Pn.rave the swovti--hnt not The hnnd that drow
And struck for liberty the dying blowi
Nor him who. 10 bis sire and country true,
Foil mid the ranks Of the invading foe.
Long. but not loud. tho dronng wheel went on,
Like theiow murmurs of n hive ~ noon;
Long, hut not loud the memory of the gone
Brealhed thro' her lias sad and tremnlons tune
Al last tho thread was snapped, her head wa
bowed.
Life dropped the distaff thro her hands serene
Aud loving eighbors smoothed her careful 'hroud
While Death and Winter closed the autumn