Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1878-11-26
ETIcAL
THE cLos1NG, SCENE.
BY T. p. READ.


The following IS pronounced by the Ipest-
minst"r Re1iesc to be unQuestionably tine finest
poem ever written:l
Within the sober realm of leaf 'ess trees,
The usset year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like sOme tanned reaper in his hour of ease.
When ali the fields are lying brown and bare
The gray bsrns locking from their lazy hills.
Ger tue dim waters widening IN Tie wales.
Sent down the air greeting to the mills.
On the duli thunder of alternate fails.
.duedS
The hills seemed further and the stream sang
low,
As in dream the distant woodman hewed
His winter log with many mnffied blow.
The. .embattled forest. crew lille armed with gold.
Tine banner bright with ever martial hue,
Nav stood iike some sad. beaten host of old.
withdrawn afar in Times remotest blue.
On sombre wings the vuiture tried his fight;
The dove scarce heard his sigbing mates COM
plant,
And, like star slow drowning in the light.
The village church vane seemed to pale and
FAINT.
The sentinel cock upon the hillside crow
Crew thrice-and viii stiiIer than before;
Silent. till some replying warden blew
HIS alien horn and then was heard no moro.
Where erst the jaw within the elm's tall crest. :
Made gurrulous trouble round her unfedeed
young,
And where the oriole swung her swaviug nest.
BY every light ~ind like censor swung.
There sang the noisy martins nf the caves,
The busy swallows circIing ever near.
Foreboding. as the rustic miud believes.
An early harvest aud a plenteous year.
Where every bird that walked the vernai feast,
Shook tie sweet slumber from it's wings at
Morn,
To warn the reaper of the east
All now was sunless, empty and forlorn.
Alone. from ont the stable, piped the quail,
And crooked the crow through all the dreary
gloom;
Alone the peasant drumming in the vale.
Made echo in the distance to the cottage loom
There was no bud mo bloom upon the bowers,
The spiders moved their thin shrouds night
By night.
The thistle DOM. the only ghost of flowers.
Sailed slowly by-p.ssei DoIsele,siy out of
sight.
Amid all this, in til his nest drcnry air,
And where the woodbine seeds upon the porch
Its crimson laaves. rs if the year stood there.
Firing the floor with its inverted torch.
Amid all this. the cen tire of the scene,
Tho vnite.haired matron with monotonous
tread
Piled the swift wheel. and with Joyous mien.
Sat like fate, and watched flying the thread.
She had known sorrow. He had walked with
hers
Oft smpred and broke with her the ashen
crust,
And in til C dead leaves still heard the stir
OF his tnIck mantle trailing in the Dust
whilst yet her cheek was bright with summer
bloom.
Her country summoned and she gave all;
AID twice war bowed to her his saLle plume
Regave the sword to rust upon the wall
Regn e the sword. but not the hand that drew
And struck for liberty the dying blow:
NJr him who. to his sire and country true,
Fell mid the ranks of the invading foe.
Long. but not loud. the droping wheel went on.
Like the low nurmer of hive AT noon:
Long, but not loud, the memory of The gono-
Breathed through her lips sad and tremu-
lous toue.
At last the thread was snaprrd. her head uas
bowed;
Life dropped the distaG through her hands
seTene;
| And loving ncighboFs smootbed her careful
shroad.
White death ard winter closed the autumn