The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-05-31
For the Telegraph.
AT SUNSET.

Deep in the valley, hidden from my vision,
The shadows Of the distant hill tops lie;
And the slant rays, with wonderful precision,
Outlines the landscapes perfect symmetry.
Yet fingers as if tangled in the wildwood,
His golden pini0ns fiuttering to be free:
And like a dream of happy care-free childhood
| A sweet calm quiet seems to steal DER me.
Nature, refreshed by her long wintry slumber.
Has donned, in happy mood, her May day dres.
While young green leaves and blossoms withou
number
Perfume the air with sweet delicieusness.
From the deep meadows come the lowing cattl
Where the red clover and the daisies grow;
And from the hills hear the tinlzling rattle
OF sheep bells where the noisy brooklets flow.
Listen Upon the air sound is waited,
Causing each fibre Of my heart to trill,
Each mournful note into my soul engrafted,
'TiS the sad cry of the lone WhippoOrWill.
It is not that neer before have listened
To sweeter music which the wild birds thrill,
That in my eyes the pearly teardrops glistened
Wrung from my heart by the sad Whippoorwill
0 no. but how distinctly [ remember
Another May to me more bright than this,
But now my May is changed into December
And vanished is the dream of promised bliss.
We stood, my love and I, where frightening
shadows
Fell in cool clusters on the grassy plain
Tbo mir oiC
meadows,
And tOyed the breeZes with the growing grain.
ana then and there we promised each the other
While day light fingered with its golden beam,
Promised to love and live but for each other;
q blest the happiness of loves young dream,
And words of tender love all lowly spoken
Sent to my heart a glad responsive thrill.
And natures solitude remained uhbroken,
Save by the murmur OF the Whippoorwill.
votion
Should ever worship at another shrine:
Can other loves produce the same emotion
AS that which lived then in this heart Of mine?
Lived and still lives though in my heart deep
hidden,
Like purest gem in oceans deepest caves,
So well concealed that storms in vain have ridden
Darkly and deep to move it with it's waves.
And with the quickened eye Of love discerning
The lights and shades, like shadows DER the land.
know the same old love for me is burning.
BY the fond pressure Of the parting hand.
By the deep sigh hidden grief revealing;
By the sad, lingering chances cast at me;
By tender words half spoke, the truth concealing
Lest should read the hearts keen agony
BY the forced smile, the would-be witty saying,
Snatches of song which into signing glide
And not unmoved see the heart betraying
The very anguish that it seeks to hide.
Those brilliant eyes have lost their Witching
splendor
That hair loved to stroke is turning grey;
That form so faultless growing bent and slender
All me how few the joys of this sad May.
IT'S not with jealous eye note the changes.
Which in my love these few short years have
Wrought
While DER their wealth and splendor my eye ran
ges
[ know the price by which it all was bought.
Then wonder not when on the air is waited
The plaintiye music Of the wild birds trill,
Each moumful note into my soul engrafted;
My heart is saddened by the WhippoorwiT.
May, 1877. LoYTNA s. COLLIER.