Vicksburg weekly herald., 1870-07-30
TmE GEOsENG sOEHB.
mEAmAB.

Ths following Is pronounced By the west
minister Review 10 be unquestionably the
hnsst American poem ever written:
within the sober realms o. lesdess trees,
The Fussed year inhaled the dreamy air
Like some tanned reaper IN bis hour Of ease
When all the held5 are lying brown ana
bare.
The gray barns looking from their h'zy
O'eTtho dun waters widening In the yaleS,
Sent down the air greeting 70 the mills,
On the dull thunder Of alternate Hans
All sights were mellOwsd, and all sounds
subdued,
The hills seemed farther and the stream
sang low,
As in dream the distant woOdman hewed
His winter log, VITA many mum cd blow.
The smbattled fore is, eTewhlle armed with
Their banners bright with every martial
hue,
Now stood like some sad. beaten host OF old,
Withdrawn afar In Times remOtest blue.
On sombre wings the vulture tried his
tight;
The dove scarce heard his signing mates
complaint;
And, like star slow drowning in the light,
The village ch urch vanc seemed TO pale
and faint.
The sentinel cock on the hill side crew
Crew thIice-And all was stiller than be.
lore;
Silent until some replying warder blew
His alien horn, and then was heard no
more.
Where orst the jay within the clmS tai
crest,
Made garulous trouble round her unnedg.
cd young;
And where the orole hung her swaying
nest
BycYery light wind like centre swung
Where saug the noisy martins Of the caves
The busy swallows ciTcling ever near
FOrebOding, a. the rustic mind believes,
An carly hRr yes and u plenteous year;
Where every bird that walked the vernal
lear,
Shook the sweet slumber from its wings al
morn;
To warm the reaper OF the rosy lust;
All now was sunless, empty and iorlorn.
Alone, from out the slubblo pipel he quail
AID croaked the crow through ali th'
dreamy gloom;
Alone, the pheasant, drumming in the vale
Made echo in the distant cottage loom.
There was no bud, no bloom upon th'
bowers;
The spiders mov?d their thin shrOuds bl
The thistle down. the only ghost of nOwers
sailed slowly by--pAssed nolselessly out O
sight
Amid all this--in this most dreary air,
And where the wOOdbine shed upon thu
porch
It's crimson leaves, as II the year stood there
Firing the door with is inverted torch.
Amid all thls--the center Of the scene.
The white haired matrOn, with monot0n
Gus tread
Piled the SWIft wheel, and with her jOyOu
Sat ike a fate. and watched the nyIni
thread.
She had known sorrow--ho had walked will
on supped, and broke with her the asher
| crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard tn
OF his thick mantle trailing in the dust.
While yet her cheek was bright with summer
bloom.
Her country summoned and she gave he
all;
And twice war bowed to her his saSl,
plume
Re.gave the sword to rest upon the wall.
Re gave the sword, but not the hand tina
drew
And struck for Liberty the dying blow;
Nor him VINO. 10 his sire and cOuHtry true,
Fell mid the ranks Oi. the invading foe.
Long, but not loud, the dropping wheel TOn
on,
Like the low muTmur OF hive at noon;
Long. but not loud, the memory OF the gOnl
BTeathed through her lips q sad and tTom
ulOus tone.
At last the thread was snApped-her hea,
was bowed,
Lie droppodthe dIstafr through her hand
serene,
And loving neighbOrs smOothed her careful
shroud,
While death and winter closed the autumn
scene.