Connecticut western news., 1878-07-04
2. TRANA TOPSLS.
BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
 To him who in the love of nature holds communion with her visible forms, she speak A various language; for his geyer hours
 Ire HnS nas voice or giadness, and smile
 And eloquence of beauty, and she glides into tne darker musings, with a mild
 M Mn1 neanng sympathy, that steals away
 O1 e 1 s1ar rpness. ere he is aware. When thought. O1 tne last bitter hour come like a blight
 Over thy spirit, and sad images VI sne stern agony, and shroud. and pal. and breathless darkness and the narrow house Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart To Iortn, unto the open sky, and list
 10 natures teachings, while from all around Gartn and her waters, and the depths of air Gomes still voice-rYet few days and thee me all beholding sun shall see no more =, m all his course; nor yet in the cold ground. Wnere thy pale form was laid, with many tears, NOT ID the embrace of ocean, shall exist
 my mage. Earth, that nourished thee, shall Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again. ana, lost each human trace, surrendering up Inlne individual being, shalt thou %
 10 mix for ever with the clements,
 to pc brother to the insensible rock
 Anu 70 the sluggish clod, which the rude swain turns ~ with his share, and treads upon. The oak Snau send its roots abroad, and pierce thy
 mould. st a. .-..# =y-f
 1et not to thine eternal resting place
 Shalt thou retire alone, nor co1ldst thou wish ,t.n TDucn more magnificent Thou shalt lie down ", Mitn patriarchs of the infant world kings 1ns powerful of the earth-the wise, the good. ami mf 1orms, and hoary seers of ages past, 6n n one mighty sepulchre. The hills
 nock-ribbed and ancient as the sun-the yales SIretch1ng in pensive quietness between; me venerable woods-rivers that move 1n m majesty, and the complaining brooks
 n", ,ara,s ma5e n me meadows green; and, poured urr~0 a,,<1
 Are but the solemn decorations all f-.. W Wt tns great tomb Of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven. Afe snming on the sad abodes of dealh through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the winps O1 morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose myself in the continuous woods ' nere rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, save ashings-yes dead are there: ana millions in those soltudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down G an tnelr last sleeY-the dead reign there alone. 90 shalt thou rest. and what if thou shalt fall HTnnotieed by the living, and no friend -- I IaKe note of thy departure? All that breaths Whan Wa snare mare my oestiny; The gay will laugh 1lod on, and esch one as before will chase Ills favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave 1heir mlrth ard their employments, and shall And make heir bed with thee. As the long
 train o -A9 0f ages gliies away, the sons of men, The youthin life's green spring, and he who
 goes { ~ In t6e fuHstrength of years -matron, and maid. And Sl the sweet babe, and the gray headed man SnaI one by one be gathered to thy side, oy tnose, Wno Ill their turn shall follow them @ 20 hve, that when thy summons comes to join The innumeFable caravan, which moves 10 the pale realms of shade, where each shall
 take o'N D--''-1 Ills chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slaye at night. ccourgeq to his dungeon, but sustained and
 soothed '-N Hy an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave. Lke Ln one who wraps the drapery of his couch Aoout nm, and lies down to pleasant dreams.