The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1865-10-18
THE CLOSING SCENE.


The following is pronounced by the
Westminster Repie,r to be unquestiona-
bly, the finest American poem ever
written:
Within the sOl.r realm OF leafiess trees.
The uiSsct year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned psaper, In his hour Of cas-,
When all the fields are lying brown and
hare.
The erny harms looking from { heir hazy hills.
DER the dun waters widening In The wales,
sent down the air a greeting "a the mills,
On the the dun thunder OF alternate Halls
All sights were mellowed and the sounds sub
dussl
The hills seemed further and the stream
A. la a dream the distant wooiman hewed
His winter log with many nufiied blow.
The emballled foHsu., erewhile armed with
gold.
Their banners bright with every martial
hue,
Now stood like -ome Nd. beaten host ofold.
Withdrawn aiar Ia Times renotesi blue.
ON Sombre wing the vuliure tried his flight;
The dove sclTcc heard his signing mates
complaint;
The village church yane seemed 10 pale and
faint
The sentinel cock upon the HILLSIDE crew
Crcw thrioe-and all was siiller than before,
Silent, TIL some replying warden blew
Ills alien horn, and thcn was heard no
more.
Where erSt the Jay, within the elIn's tall crest,
Made garrulous trouble rOund her unfiedged
young;
liy every light wind like "A oenser swung;
Where sang the noisy martins Of the ewes,
The busy swallows circling ever near
forchodlng, ~ the rustic mind believes,
An early harvest and a plenieOus year.
Where every bird that walked the vernal feast,
shook the sweet luinber nom IT. wings al
morn.
To warn the reaper ofthe rusy lust:
All now was sunless, empty and forldfn.
Alone, from out the stulble, piped the quail;
And cfuakod the crow through all the
deary gloom;
Alone. the pheasant, drumming In the vale.
Made echo IN the distant cottage loom.
There was no bud. no bloom upon the bowers
The spiierS moved their thin shrouds night
IS night,
The ihistlc-down, the only ghost of flowers.
sailei slowly by-paSsed noiscless out Of
sight.
Amid an this-is this nio.i dreary air.
And where the woOdbine shed upon the
porch
Itscrini-on leaves, NJ ifthe year stoDi there,
Firing the floor with H. inverted tOrcn.
Amid all this. the centre OF the sccne,
The whie-haine,i matrOn with monOtonous
tnad.
Piled the swim wheel, and with her joyleS
mcim
Sat Ike a fate, and watched the dying
thread.
she had known sorrow. He had walked with
on suppod, and broke with her the ashen
crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard the
stir
Ofhs thick mantle trailing In the dust.
While yet her cheek was bright with summer
Her couniry summoned and she gave her
| And tW lce war bowed to her his sable plume
Re-give the swoni "a rust upon the wall
Re-gaye the swori, but not the hand that
Dire
And struck for liberty the dying blow;
Nor him who, Ia his sinc and country true,
Fell mid the mnks uf the invading foe,
Long. hut not loud, the dropping wheel went
om,
Like the low munnurof a hives noon;
Long. but not loud, the memory OF the gone
Ircaihed through her lIs sad and tremu-
4 lous tone;
At lat the thread was snapped-her head was
lowed
Life dropped the disiar through her hands
-spue:
And loving neighbour snoothcd her careful
While death and winter closed the autumn
srtIlT.