Daily national Democrat., 1860-06-19
Fo' the National Democrat
The Midnight Train.
BY FRANCES FULLER BARR1rr.

BY FRANCES FULLER BARRITT
In the early, mild October, when the garden trees
were shedding
Little showers prematurely, of November's leofv
rain,
When the golden feet of Autum over Summers
green were treading,
Leaving here and there footprint, yellow as
the rpencd grain;
"hen the soft, warm winds blew gently as if
they had been the waving
vi the languid sunny pnions of some spirit of
the air,
AND the shallow river murmured Ger its pebbley.
white paving,
Till the drowsy forest echo walked, and an.
swered murmurs rare;
In this golden, dreamy weather, when the day had
passed beyond me,
And the night come down, all-glorious, was
shining in its stead,
Many lonely midnight hour with wakeful
grief has found me,
Waiting sadly for its passing, with bowed
and weary head
Fora fri htful shadow lowered on The thresh-hold
ofmy dwelling,
One watched with dark misgivngs, long and
long ere it was passed
Watched it weeping and despairing, till my hear
was faint with telling
Days and nights wherein it moved not from the
spot where it was cast.
In this golden .dreaunv yaathar sol - ,.,. .t
heart was saddened -
In these glorious nights of Autumn, blest for
soothing ofmy pain
strange sympathy possessed me-one wild
sound my spirit gladdened-
The shrll cry of the "steam eagle" warning of
the midnlng train
High and piercing, and defiant, yet with some-
thing grand and wonderous
In its eloquence ofpower, did that sound salute
my ear,
With the thunder following after, of the chariots
dark and ponderous,
Rolling on like cars of triumph through the
silence bright and clear.
Ort sometimes came more slowly, with cry so
wild and dreary,
Shreking in such utter anguish that my soul
uprose to fly,
Crying too, in walling sorrow, to the spirit strange
and eerie,
That it met it, and embraced it, in the starry
midnight sky.
And thus, often, almost nightly, as if summoned
by that crying
Out beneath the solemn glory of the night, and
all its stars,
out my arms in answer, did l come
and listen, signing
That my soul could only vainly beat against its
prison bars.
Twas perhaps kind of madness, born of melan-
choly fancies,
But seemed to find expression which my soul |
was dumb without
Full, unstiuted, free expression, utterance which
no word enhances,
In that wild, unearthly wailing, or that mad,
defiant shout.
And so sometimes still hear it, though my agony
is waning
Slowly from me, and forgetfulness is softening
the sharp pain;
Yet within my ear there linger deathess notes OF
its complaining
Constant as the sea-shell's murmur for its
stormy native main.
TRG-MoNTHLY MAL.-The Postmaster at
having made inquiry of the
p stmaster at San Francisco. relative to a
.ri-weekly mail from the east by steamer re-
,eived the following reply:
PosT OFFICE San Francisco,
June l6, 1860.
POSTMASTER. SACRAMENTO In answer to |
7our letter of the l4th inst, have to say |
nave no official information of a trimonthly
nail from the Atlantic. believe the pres
mt Steamship Company are about to run
ri-monthly line, but whether they will car
Y the mail remains yet to be determined.
rhe present existing arrangement expires on
he lst proXimo. and what may then be
lone have no idea.
Very respectfully,
C. L. WELLER, P. NJ.