Newbern weekly progress., 1858-10-28
!. Written for the Daily Progress.
The Vision. "

Written for the Daily Progresl.
The Vision.
An Editor sat in his easy chair
1t matters little when or where
Suffice it, however, in point of date =
To say Eighteen Hundred and Fifty Eight.
He was alone, and a half-spentv vtaper,l
Upon ssblotted sheet of paper aa,gI ses
"a gloomy eheerless light was yielding
TO the pen his weary hand was wieldina,
Twas midnight, but nearer morning. "a
As our Editor with desp'rate yawnirg
sPlied his industrious well-worn quilA
sTo the last blank column he had yet 10 fn.
Near to his office church yard lay
Where beings Of other days they say
Inafheir native element are't rest
Where their souls are Heaven knows best)
No wonder then this Editor should fear,
A visit from those graves so near,
And ever and anon look trembling 'r,und
Startled by every passing sound,
With more reason toe, than he had thought
For presently his quick ear caught
The rustng of a strange mmeartniy rpise
That o'er his threshold seemed8o poiie
But for an instant and then
He.dared not look around again; i
For even then, a voice as from the graFel
Its sulphur scented Itterance gave rs.
And thus Id accents wild and strange
Addressed him, whilst sudden change
Came DER the tide of his reflections ii
And sent them scattering IN all directions
Robed in white behind his CHAIR - -s.s
snow white beard fell from his chin,
And DER his vfsage pale and thin : %
Unearthly shadows to and fro S
Quickly seemed to come and go: 35N
And thus this spirit of the other world VS.;
To the trembling editor his speech unfarl'd:
:" My Brother spirits from thesrealms below
Whose bodies died a century ago
Have sent me their ambassador at large
Commissioned with special charge
Thou! man of earth attend thine earS
And when TIE finished / will hear
Thy answer nor shall thou be mum
Else thou woudst die like Absalonl.
What means this noise, this ceaseless din
Of trowels aud hammers that begin 50
With the grey dawn their .clattering
Ringing, banging and battering?
Disturbing the spirits of the dead that sleep
In tAeir cold graves 50 dark and deeu3 =
WIfat mean these towering stucco'd fronts,
Aid lofty edtices where once MI
lnsdays of yore, undaunted stood #
Plain humble cottages of wood g
What means this whistling, roaring Ikunblng
lneessant to and fro and tumbling
OF boxes and barrels and the hurn
And hustle of strange sounds that .2k9Ae% u
Roaring like huge OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
y 1,er cur soaleftsae peaceful gravess &s
ssT IL s. ,f bells
Aaa frg gIltfuI Ind si@ 81 ss
i hat every day, lnethinlxs sYss n 81
Der the dark blue waters Of 4Isss ss57ss, Trent
Pealing like thunder far and Nj s86
| Reckless of tempest wind and tisiets
Like moving villages in row
4 Floating freshet down the 0hiDI
Packed full of "stuff " from the Lord kno,
i where s55ss gss
| Destin,d d for city that, hear, 4.
/ On deep and spacious harbar near
/ The broad blue ocean, begins to rear
Her towering edifees of stone and brick
| While ships are coming in so tiiekfs
Bearing off the produce Of the, west
| There's no chance for man or beast TO rest ?''
1 He spoke! This man Of years and then-
4 All was hushed and still again
But over the editors trembling frame
A frightful chilly shuddering came
| In vain to answer he assayeds
Fear his every utterance stayed
i With fright grown desp'rates hs
One look behind him, twas his
| There stood the monster graves 0gress:
Front face with the editor Of tile fogress
. Progress /! Progress e BE ted and fell
lQuoth the Ogress sthou hast efea well, =
j Then vanished through the ipor
And left the editor in a fit on q '9s
lsDsas soessss ] l,avs