The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1867-02-19
4-ofttg
THE CLOSING SCENE.

THE CLOSING SCENE.
The following, by 7. Buchanan Read
lis pronounced by the Westminster Re-
view to be unquestionably the finest
American poem ever written:
Within the sober realm of lifeless trees,
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air,
Like some tanned reaper in his hour of ease
When all the fields are lying brown an6
bare.
The gray barns looking from their hazy hills
0'er the dun waters widening in the wales
Sent down the air greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder of alternate fails.
All sights were mellowed ,and all sounds sub
/ dued, II s.~JE ,ce3
The hills seemed further and the stream.
sang low, aii1 g y
As in a dream the distant woodman hewed
is winter log with many mufied blow.
The embattled forests, erewhile armed with
gold, Ia 1ealrs
Their banners bright with every martial
hue, ar
Now stood like some sad beaten host of old,
Withdrawn afar in times remotest blue.
On sombre wings the vulture tried his fight
The dove scarce heard his sighing mates
complaint; f
And like a star slow drowning in the light,
The village church yane seemed to pale
and faint.
The sentinel cock upon the hillside crew
Crew thrice-and all was stiller than be.
fore; ps
Silent till some replying warder blew
His alpin horn, and then was heard nc
Where erst the jay within the elm's tall crest
Made garulous trouble round her unfedged
young;
And where the oriole hung her swaying nest
By every light wind like censer swung,
Where sung the noisy martins of 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 its wing at
morn,
To warn the reaper of the rosy east,
All now was sunless, empty and forlorn.
Alone, fromout the stubble, piped the quail
And croaked the crow through all the dreary
gloom;
Alone, the pheasant drumming in the vale;
Madeecho to the distant cottage loom.
There was no bud, no bloom upon the bow
ers:
The spiders wose their thin shrouds nigh
by night;
The thistle down the only ghost of flowers,
Sailed slowly by-passed noiseless out 0
sight.
Amid all this--in this most dreary air,
And where the woodbine shed upon tn
porch ~
It's crimson leaves, as if the year stood there
Firing the floor with its inverted torch,
Amid all this-the center of the scene,
The white-haired matron with monotonou
i tread,
Piled the swift wheel, and with her joyles
! mien
Sat like a fate, and watched the fyin
/ thread.
She had known sorrow. He had walked wit
her,
i Oft supped, and broke with her the ashe
! crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard tn
i OF his thick mantle trailing in the dust.
While yet her cheek was bright with sum
i bloom,
4 Her country summoned, and she gave he
i all,
And twice War bowed to her his sable plume
j Re-gave the sword to rust upon the wall,
Re-gave the sword, but not the hand tn;
drew
: And struck for liberty the dying blow,
$ Nor him who, to his sire and country true,
3 Fell mid the ranks Of the invading foe.
Long, but not loud, the droning wheel wei
i on,
Like the low murmur of hive at noon;
Long, but not loud, the memory of the gon,
Breathed through her lips sad and trer
ulous tune.
At last the thread was snapped; her he'
was bowed; q Rs
Life dropped the distaf through her han
serene,
i And loving neighbors smoothed her caref
oil shroud.
W hile death and winter closed the autun
scene.
n@ The following is said to be an e
act statement of Mr.. Crosby's balan
sheet: u ii. Crosby, creditor by tv
hundred and ten thousand tickets, at !;
each, S1,050,000; debtor to thirty tho
sand tickets not sold, $150,0OO; to a
If yertising, s15O,OO0; to paintings, s75, 90
s. tn enprayinps. S10O (f0. IN cnmm;ssio,