Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1865-12-29
THE CLOSING SCENE.


Within the sober realms OF Ieziless trees,
The russell year inhaled the bsImy air;
Like some tanned reaper in his hour Of ease
When all the fields were lyinRebrown and bare
The grey barns looking from their hazy hills
O'er the dun aters widening IN the wales,
Sent down the air a greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder or aternake Halls
All sights were mellowed, and al sounds subdued,
The hills seemed further and the stream sang low
AS in a dream the distant wOOdman hewed
His winter log, with many mu1ded blow
The emb attled forests ere while armed W th gold
Their banners bright with every martial hue,
Now stood like sumo sad, beaten host Of old,
Withdrawn afar in Times Temotest blue
On sombre wings the vulture tried his flight;
Tn dove scarce heard his slghng mates complaint
An like star slow drawing iathe light,
Tn village church vane seemed 20 pale and faint
The sentinel cock upon the hill slds crew,
Crew thrce-and all was stiler tnan before;
Silent, till some replying wardesFblew
His alien horn, and then was heard no more.
Where erst the jay, within the essn's laIl crest
Made garrulous trouble round hsS unaedged young;
And where the Oriole hung her q wing hest
By every light wind like Gems aWung
Where sang the noisy martins d The caves.
The busy swallows circling ever near
FOrebOding, as the rustic mind believes,
An early harvest and plenteous year.
Where every bird that walked the vernal FEAST
Shook the sweet slumber from il wings at morn,
To warn the reaper OF he rosy last, - as
All now was sunless, empty and forlorn ...
Alone, from out the stun Die plpeG the quails
And croaked the crow though al the dreary gloom
Alone, the pheasant drumming iurtke vale,
Made echo in the distant cottage iootn.
There was no bud, no bloom upon the bowers,
The spiders moved their thin shHouds night by night
The thistle down the only ghost OF flowers,
Sailed slOwy by Passe1 noisel ess out of sight.
Amid ali this, this most dreary air.
Ant here The wu0dblne sheds upon the porch
lis crimson leaves, il the year stood there
Firing the floor with its Inverted torch
II .bf- +t,o II - i, s,..sa..
The white haired matrOn with monotOnous tread,
Piled she wheel, and with her joyi less melu,
Sat like fate and watched the flying thread.
She had known sorrow. He had walked with her.
OFT supped, and bf Uke with her the ashen crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard the
or his thick mantle trailing in the dust
While yet her cheek bright with summer bloom,
Her country summoned, and she gave her all;
Aud twice war bowed TO her his sable plume
Regave the sword TO rust upon the wall.
Regave the sw ord but not the hand that drew
And struck for liberty the dying blow;
Nor him who, his and country true,
Fell mud tue nks OF the invading foe.
Long, but not .Oud the dropping wheel went OH
Like the murmur Ol hive at noon;
Long, but not loud, the memory Of the gone.
Breathed through her lips sad and tremulous tune
At last the thread was snapped, her head bowed
Life dropped the distaf through her hands sereue,
And loving neighbOrs smoOthed her careful shroud,
While death and winter cssei the autumn scene.