Bloomsburg democrat. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1867-1869, 1867-04-17


fully upon Summers tears, or in plain words
the sun smiles while Summer weepa After
which we see the golden harvest waving to
and fro, Us if it was bcckoning the Keeper to
make haste, and gather il while in bloom:-
We also SEQ the green Indian corn tower
ing high above the walls or fences which
protect it from the intrusion Of those which
would gladly invade the rights Of their
master by scaling the walls; and nipping
the young suckers and even the shoot that
is destined to be the ear If protected from
the old brindle COW, tho little red bull, and
halfdozcn mischievoua colts; all Of
which are anxiously awaiting an opportunity
to have romp through the corn, oats and
potatoes.
But we hope Autumn will pardon us for
disnlissing him with such short notice; we
love Autumn dearly but We love Summer
better. But on the whole we don't know
which is the best; because Summer weeps,
laughs and grows scda:e, alternately a. may
best suit his peculiar disposition. While
Autumn is always sedate except few weeks
after he first steps on the arena, when he
sometimes cheers US with smile, and per-
haps he may give us tear or two, just to
show us the relation he bears to his prede-
cessor; after which he becomes sedate and
n,editative, always reminding US Of the
mortality of all created things, as he yields
one treasure utter another to the icy arms
Of death; But, high-ho cries the farm
er's boy, what fine crop Of potatoes and
pumpkins we have won't We have de-
licious feast on the Irishman dish, and the
Yankees pic?
But when the farmer examines the crop
he sh,kes his head and says sure yield. But
he gathers what there is thanking Heaven
for it; but after the gathering is completed,
and the crop measured he finds that Provi.
dence has been better to him than he had
aptic pated, which cause. him to sleep better
than he had done few nights previous
But now Au:umns work is done, and the
last .eaf on the Old Elm Tree has reluctant
" let 80 its hold, and all nature seems wrapt
in garment Of mourning; when finally the
winding sheet is put around him and he is
laid in the grave.
Autumn has passed away! and Old
! Winter is here yes he is here with foot Of
snow. And in evening,-we hear what :?
tiug-ting- ing-tingle-tingle.t e.tingle; and who
whoa; and all is quiet for a moment; when
ha.ha-ha-rings the merry laugh and We
hasten to the door, where we finl sleigh
ing party, consisting Of about half dozen
lively girls, and as many jolly boys: Thus
goes the Winter, frolic and fun fer the young
folks while our old gray-headcd parents
draw near the old fashioned Fireplace, and
give spring and a shiver, with an o dear me !!
our young folks will surely freeze,-it is so
piercing cold. Really l cannot understand
what makes them venture out such bitter
cold nights; do not see what pleasure
there can be in these slcighing parties, when
it is so cold, says our mother. A nod from
father and hitch toward the fire, thereby
giving double assent to all that has been
said forgetting that they were ever young,
and that they at one time enjoyed sleigh
ng-pafty as well rs the gayest.
So it goes, OLD Winter is busily engaged
at his work Of consumption until finally
when another Spring has chine he has nearly
consumed all that the previous Summer has
yielded. A few cold rains, and thsw OF
two, and perhaps a sleety storm, after which
Winter passes away, and the year is gone,
leaving the arena for another round Of
Seasons in their turn.
Many analogics between human life and
the Seasons, being natural, have been
themes upon which poets in all countries
have largely dwelt. Had it pleased Heaven
to breath into us poetical genius, we would
pour forth strains, illustrative Of this anla
ogy that night be both affecting and impres
sive. We sometimes feel that many Of
those written by whry-faced sentameutalist'
are not only fantastic hut false, and do equa
violence, both to the seasons and life. W.
think that life is more like the whole round
of Seasons, than any particular one W.
do not think Winter is emblematical Of old
age. In the very dead Of Winter nature i:
not in a state Of decay, but there is as mucl
vitality in nature, as when it is clothed ii
its mantle of green. True the sap Of tree
is frozen down from their boles and branche
into their toes or roots. But it is ther,
ready to reassend in due time. Not so will
the old, the vital part has not sunk down in
, 10 their toes, but much Of il hus gone clea
out Of their systen therefore the analog.
between old age and Winter is not natural.
:. en,blematical. What rharscteristic in OIL
old person is like rain, sleet, hail, frost, ice
snow, winds, blasts, storms hurricanes ant
occasional thunder and tightening? Tru
we will not crininate any one tor hkinI
the earth after fall Of snow to the sprink
ling of g ay hair on our sires ancient temples
= and We do not suppose that his blood is n
;. hot as when he was spriugall. But il is GU
, opinion rs we'll as some Of our best writer
and distinguished essayiSts, that 10 realit.
he analogy does not exist mt all. and onl
q has place in the Imagination. Humpher
eems to understand this full well, and ]
his observations ontin,e likeus life to tn