Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1878-11-24
Atlantic Monthly-Read at the Century Memorial
Meeting.l
THE DEATH OF BRYANT.
BY EDMUND c. sTEDMAN.

How was 1t then with Nature when the soul
OF her own poet heard a voice which came
To Earth" when that inearnate spirit, blent
With the abiding force of wa res that roll
She did recall? How vent
His antique shade. beaconed upon its way
Through the still aises of night to universal day?
Her voice It was, her sovereign voice. which babe
The Earth resolve his elemental mould;
long,
Thou lingeTest, and charmest with thy song!
Returni return9. Thus Nature spoke, and made
Der sign; and forthwith on the minstrel old
Fell from the bent bow of the answering Sun.
Who cried THE song is closed, the invocation
But not as 1Or those youths dead ere their prime,
New-entered on their music's high domain,
No utterance now like that sad sweetest tone e'n'
When Bion died, and the Sicilian rhyme
Bewalled; no sobbing Of the reeds that plain
Rehsarsing some last moan
OF Lycidat; no strains which skyward swell
For Adonais still, and still for Astrophei
The Muses. wept not for him as for those
OF whom each vanished like beauteous star
QueDched ere the shining midwatch of the night;
light;
Grieved that she could not mimic him afar.
He ceased not from our sight
Fell as an eagle pierced with shaft from his own
wing.
This was not Thyrss! no. the minstrel lone
And reverend the woodland singer hoar,
Who was dear Nat res nursing, and the priest
Whom most she loved; nor had his Office c, asei
But for her mandate: seek again thine oI n;
Softly, rs from feast
The guest deoartS that hears a low recall,
he went, and LETT behind his harp and , ON Il.
'2et,rn o' she cried. 'unto thine own retr rnl
Too long The pilg1mage; too long the cIea
IN which, lest thou Sh0uldst be cOmpani, nj 9sS,
Unto the oracles thou haist acc
The sacred groves that with my presence yearn'
The voice was heard by mountain, cell and stream
Meadow and Wilderness
All fair things vestured by the changing year,
Which now awoke In Joy to welcome one most dear
'.He con'es ~ declared the unseen snes that haunt
The dark recess es, the infinitude
OF whispering old oaks and suughlng pines.
he cores !" the Warders OF the forest shrines
Heneeforth with US shall wa K the underwood,
Till mortal ear dtvineS
Its music added TO our choral hymn,
Rising, and falling far through archways deep anc
dimr'
The orchard fields, the hillside pastures green,
Put giadness on the ripping hargest-waVe
Ran like smile, as III q moment there
His shadow poised In the midsummer air
Above; the cataract took a pear y sheen
Even as 1t leapt; the winding river gave
A sound of welcome where
He came, and tremhled; FAR as to the sea
| IL moves from rock-ribbed heights where its darl
fountains be.
| His presence bIooded on the rolling plain,
And on the lake there fell a sudden calm
| His own tranquility; the mountain bowed
| Its head, and felt the GOODNESS OF a cloud,
And mUTmured, "He as pdSSinq!" and again
Through all its frs the wind swept like psalm;
Its eagles, thunderbrowed,
| In that miSt-mOulded shape their kinsman knew,
And circied high, and in his mantle SCARED from
view.
| So drew he to the living veil, which hung
OF old above the deep untmaged face,
| And sought his Owl. Henceforward he Is free
| OF vassdlage to that mortality
| Which men have given Sepulchre among
The pathways OF their kinda restingplace
Where. bending great Knee.
| Knelt the proud mother of mighty land
! In tenderness, and came anon plumed band.
| Come one by one the seasons meetly drest,
| To sentinel the relics of their seer.
| First Spring upon whose head a wreath was set
| OF wind-iowerS and the yellow violet
| Advance: Then Sumner led his loyesest
OF months. one ever to the minstrel dear
(aer sweet eyes deTy wet,
| June, and her sisters, whose brown hands entwine
| The brier-rose and the bee-haunted columbne.
| Next Autumn, like monarch sad of heart,
Came, tended by his melancholy days,
| Purple he wore, and bore golden rod,
| His SceptTe; and let fall upon the sod
lone tTing d,gentian ere h would depart,
| When winter thither tr0d-
| Winter with beard and Taiment blown before,
That was so becoming like our poet old and hoar,
What forms are these amid the pageant fair,
| Harping with hands that falter? What sa
| thrOng?
| They walt in vain, a mournful brotherhood
| And listen where their laurelled elder stood
For some last music fallen through the air.
! What cold, thin atmosphere now hears tn
| song?"
They ask, and long have wooed
| The woods and waves that knew him, but can lear
Naught save the hollow, haunting cry, Return
| Return ~