Bristol news. [volume] (Bristol, Va. & Tenn.) 1867-189?, 1869-07-02

WITHIN the sober realms Of cafless trees,
The russell yonr inhaled tho dreamy air
Like some tanned reaper In his hohr of ease,
when all the fields are lying brown and bare.
Tho gray barns looking from their harry hills,
o. or the dun waters widening In the wales,
sent down tho air greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder Of alternate fails.
All sights were mellowcd, and ali sounds tubdued,
The hill seemed further AID the streams sang
As In a d. cam the distant woodman bowed
His winter log, with many muifed blow
The ombattled forests, erewhile armed with gold,
q Their banners bright With every martial hue,
Now stood like some sad beaten host Of old,
Withdrawn afar In times remotest blue.
On sombrc wings the vulturo tried his flight;
The dove scarce heard his signing mates COM
plant;
And like a star, slow dropping in the light,
The village church vane seemed to pale and faint
fho sentinel cock upon the hillside crow
Crew thrioe-and all was stiller than before
Silent TIL some replying warbler blew
His altern horn, and then was heard no more.
whore erst TIE Jay, within the elm's tall crest,
Made gsrrulous trouble round her unnedged
And where Il c orlole hung her swaying nest,
By every light wind like y censor swung;
W ,cre sang the noisy martina of the caves,
no busy twa'lows circling over near
FoTebodiDg, the rustic mind believes,
An early harvest and plonteous year.
Where every bird that walked the verual FEAST
Shook tine sweet siurubef from its wings al morn ;
To warn the reapers Of the rosy lust
All now sunless, empty and forlorn,
! Alone, from out the stubtle, pipod the quail;
And croaksd the crow through all the dreamy
Alone, the pheasant drumming in the vale,
Made echo in the distant cottage loom.
There was no bud, no bloom upon the bowers;
The spiders moved their thin shrouds night by
night;
The ,histle down, the only ghost If flowers,
Sailed slowly by--passod noiseiess out Of sight.
Amid all this-in this most dreary air,
and where the wooblne shed upon tho porch
Its crimson leaves, as II the yeur stood there,
Firing the blood with its Inverted torch;
Amid all this-the centre Of the scene,
The white haired matron, with r.nnotonous tread,
Piled the swift wheel, and with her joyous ne
Sat like fate, and watched the lying tlr ad.
she had known sorrow lie had walked with her
OFT suppcd, and broke with her the ashen crust
And in the dead leaves still she heard the stir
OF his thick mantle trailing in the dust.
While yet her check was bright with summer bloom
Her country summoned, and she gave her all
nd twice war bowed TO her his sable plume
Ec-gave the sword to rust upon the wall.
Re-gave tho sword but not the hand that drew,
And struck for liberty the dying blow;
Nor him who, to his sire and country ttu2,
Poll mid the ranks Of the Invading foe.
Long, but not lond, tho dropping wheel went on,
Like tho low murmur Of hive at noon
Long, but not loud, the memory Of the gone
Breathed through her lips sad and trembling
= tone.
At last the thread snapped, her head was bowed
Lits dropped the distan through her hA"ds serene
AMI loving neighbors smoo'hed her careful shroud
JThile death and winter closed the autumn scene