Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1866-10-10

together. When the former speaks, l feel as
though somebody had spoken, AS if humanity
was yet, and reasonable being had asserted |
his rights,-as if some unpre5udiced men |
among the country's hills had at length turned |
their attention to the subject, and by few
sensible words redeemed the reputation of the |
race. When, in some obscure country town,
the farmers come together to q special town
meeting to express their opinion on some SUBJ !
ject which is vexing to the land, that think,
is the true Congress, and the most respectable
one that is ever assembled in the United
States"
This volume is printed and bound 10 style
uniform with the preceding volumes by the
same author.
Poems. By Elizabeth Akers. (Florence Per
Cyl Boston Ticknor & Fields.
The poetry of TINS volume deserves the
compliment of being included in the " blue
and gold" series, hich Messrs. Tioknor &
Fields are publishing with excellent taste and
Judgment. Whether judged oy ths standard
of medern criticism Mrs. Akers is q great
poet or not, the readers of this volume will
care little. for they will find here delight
full lyrics, appealing at once to the sensibilities
and the heart, which are, if possible, more at.
tractive reading than the grander flights of
the Imagination soaring into the empyrean of
song. Mrs. Akers' realm is, undoubtedly, the
affections and sensibilities and she shows no
small power of pOetical description. Almost
every poem in this volume is touched with
ssdne.s,-almost every song is attuued to a
minor key-as if the sorrows of her own life
had left more "hearse-like notes than carols'
to be wakened by tt e touch of ber Tyre. The
author is a widow c. gifted sculptor Of whom
Maine has reason to be proud, and whose
early death brought wide regret to his many
warm personal friends, and 10 those who had
looked forward to the fair promise for the tn
ture achievements of his genius and the
shadow of this bereavement yet sadaens all
her verses. In the drst poem of this volume
entitled Violet-P Planting" her grief finds
touching expression. We copy two verses
The earliest breath of June
Blows the white tassels from tbs cherry boushs,
And In the deepest shadow of the
The mild-eysd oxen brouse.
How tranquility be sleeps,
BE whom biuery mourn dead
Although the month sweeps
The over bossomed sprins fsuer from his bed.
Giving fre sh buds therefor
Although beside him still Love waits and weeps,
And youder goes the war.
Wake violets wake.
Open your blue eyes vide :
Watch faithfully his lonely pillow here
Let rude football break
Your slender stems crush your leaves aside
See III At harm
The dust dear
violets, hear.
The couds hang low and heavy with warm RAIN
And, ~ne N l come again,
Lo, with your blossom this loved grave shall be
Blue q. the marvelou. sea,
Laying the borders Of his Italy
10 October which We copy below, Will,
there this same vein of sadness like th,
moaning OF the melancholy pines, there is
fine appreciation of the soft, tender, dreamy
fad ing autumn, rich in its robes Of glory, ye
solemn in It's spiritual significance
OCTOBER.
door yard put their autumn bloom
Purple and gold, and crimson rich and strong,
| That stain The lghi, aud give my Lonesome room
An atmosphere Of sunset all day long.
In giddy whirls the yellow elm leaves fall,
The rifed cherry boughs grow and thinned
ct still the morning slories on the wall,
Fling out th=r purple trumpets to the wind -
| SO full but now of Summers triumph notes,
The noul's aoft wing their powdery siamIns stirred
The bees rich muTnur allied their honeyed IL roAts
| And the quick thrilling OF the humming bird.
In the long dreary nights OF storm hear
| The windy woodbine beat against the pane
| Trembling and sluddering wi b cold and fear.
Like one who seeks a shelter all in vain
| The sobbing rain deplores the sad decline
OF al which fair and and young
TIE tender finger, Of the clamOering vine
Are bruised against the treis whe re they elune.
This is my world dsmaniled, cold and bare,
| The winter threatens, lowering and drear
Where the patiering feet, the shining hair,
| The eyes which made it always summer here,
In the Return of the Regiment" Mrl
Akers touches different key, yet there is
this hymn of triumph stll that minor not
like dirge, soitened by distance ming lin
with the near strains OF exultant music
THE RETURN OF THE REGIMENT.
The bells boom to the cloudy sky.
The deep drums beat tumutuously,
And the martial music's CT ash and cry
Make all the city dumb
There tender eyes at every pane,
And, spite of wind and citing rain,
From square and alley, rect and lane,
The eager people come.
wh. do they come to seek and see
Why do they case earnestly!
What Ay the strange attraction be,
Ahandful OF hasgard men
Men VIE have stepped In crimson stains
Warmly flowing from traitsrou' veins,-
Soldiers ( M red Antietam' plains,
Heroes Of bEttiss {
. Oh, it is only q little while
, Since in unbr oxen rank and Ole,
q Cheered by many a nod Ind smile
Prom thous snds - they pass by,
Fresh in their unstaiue3 zniform,
Eyes all hopeful nj hearts all warm,
i, They went 10 meet the Southern storm,
. To triumph or to die.
Q Fourteen months have passed since shen-
& Fourteen months, and battles ten
g The men old, and the boys 81 men,
/, Grown grave before their time;
y And In tn cir features the gaser sees
o The bitter wisdom Of times like these,
Z The sha- ply cut experiences
Which make mems lives sublime.
b Mute and strange are their faces all
Nothing less than battle call,
With boom Of cannon and Shrek OF ball,
ii Could shake their even breath;
!, Written in every line aud curve,
!, Are tales Of courage and IRON nerve
4 OF hre-tried hearts that never sverve
A From danger or from death.
Hsggard with toll, fatigue and pain,
% SoiIed and smoky with battle stain,
Back they come to their homes again,
. Changed as by many years;
nu%ta tho