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A DAY IN AUTUMN.
BY JOIN A BRYANT.
There's a fount about to stream,
CLEAR THE WAY!
One ramble through the woods with me,
Thou dear companion of my days! These mighty woods, how quietly
They sleep in autumn's golden haze! The gay leaves twinkling in the breeze,
Still to the forest branches cling, They lie like biossoms on the trees
The brightest blossoms of the spring. Flowers linger in each sheltered nook,
And still the cheerful song of bird, And murmur of the bee and brook,
Through all the quiet groves are heard. And bell of kine that sauntering browse,
And squirrel, chirping as he hides Where gorgeously, with crimson boughs,
The creeper clothes the oak’s gray sides, How mild the light in all the skies !
How balmily this south wind blows ! The smile of God around us lies,
His rest is in this deep repose.
Once the welcome light has broken,
Who shall say
of the olay?
In its ray?
Aid the dawning, tongue and pen :
CLEAR THE WAY !
Lo! a cloud's about to vanish
From the day;
Clear the way!
These whispers of the flowing air,
These waters that in music fall, These sounds of peaceful life, declare
The Love that keeps and hushes all. Then let us to the forest shade,
And roam its paths the live-long day; These glorious hours were never made
In life's dull cares to waste away.
With that right stall many more
For their prey;
CLEAR THE WAY !
We'll wander by the running stream,
And pull the wild grape hanging o'er, And list the fisher's startling scream,
That perches by the pebbly shore. And when the sun, to his repose,
Sinks in the rosy west at even, And over field and forest throws
A hue that makes them seem like heaven.
BY JOSEPHI BLANCO WHITE.
We'll overlook the glorious land,
From the green brink of yonder height, And silently adore the hand
That made our world so fair and bright.
Mysterious Night! when our first Parent knew
Thee from report divine, and heard thy name,
This glorious canopy of Light and Blue ?
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
And, lo! Creation widened in man's view.
cealed Within thy beams, O Sun! or who could find Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed,
That to such countless Orbs thou mad'st us blind? Why do we then shun Death with anxious strife ? If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life?
CLEAR THE WAY. Men of thought! be up and stirring
Night and day :
Clear the way!
As ye may !
Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
Pause not to dream of the future before us ! That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day,
Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us! Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;
Hark, how Creation's deep, musical chorus Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Unintermitting, goes up into Heaven ! Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
Never the ocean wave falters in flowing; Roughening their crests, and scattering high their Never the little seed stops in its growing ;
More and more richly the Rose-heart keeps glowing, spray, And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee Till from its nourisbing stem it is riven. To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea !
" Labor is worship !"—the robin is singing ;
- Labor is worship!”--the wild bee is ringing; Nor I alone-a thousand bosoms round Inhale thee in the fulness of delight;
Listen! that eloquent whisper upspringing
Speaks to thy soul from out nature's great heart; And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound
From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower ; Livelier, at coming of the wind of night;
From the rough sod blows the soft breathing flower;And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound, Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight.
Froin the small insect, the rich coral bower, Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth,
Only man, in the plan, ever shrinks from his part. God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth!
Labor is life!-'Tis the still water faileth ;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth ; Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,
Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust as saileth ! Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest,
Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon.
Labor is glory!—the flying cloud lightens ; Summoning from the innumerable boughs
Only the waving wing changes and brightens ; The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast;
Idle hearts only the dark future frightens; Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows
Play the sweet keys wouldst thou keep them in The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass,
tune! And ’twixt the o'ershadowing branches and the grass.
Labor is rest-from the sorrows that greet us; The faint old man shall lean his silver head
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, And dry the moistened curls that overspread Rest from world-syrens that lares us to ill.
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep; Work-and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow; And they who stand about the sick man's bed, Work— Thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow ; Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweep,
Lie not down wearied 'neath Wo's weeping willow! And softly part his curtains to allow
Work with a stout heart and resolute will! Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow.
Droop not though shame, sin and anguish are round Go-but the circle of eternal change,
thee! That is the life of nature, shall restore,
Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee! With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range,
Look to yon pure Heaven smiling beyond thee! Thee to thy birth-place of the deep once more;
Rest not content in thy darkness-a clod ! Sweet odors in the sea-air, sweet and strange,
Work-for some good,—be it ever so slowly! Shall tell the home-sick mariner of the shore;
Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly! And, listening to thy murmur, he shall deem
Labor ! · True labor is noble and holy ;He hears the rustling leaf and running stream.
Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God!
When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast
Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the instantaneous throe
So the Evil's triumph sendeth, with a terror and a chill,
For mankind is one in spirit, and an instinct bears along
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
Have ye chosen, O my people, on whose party ye shall stand,
Backward look across the ages, and the beacon-actions see,
Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages but record
We see dimly in the Present what is small and what is great,
Slavery, the earth-born Cyclops, sellest of the giant brood,
Then to side with Truth is noble, when we share her wretched crust,
For Humanity sweeps onward; where to-day the martyr stands,
'Tis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves
They were men of present valor, stalwart old iconoclasts,
They have rights who dare maintain them; we are traitors to our sires,
New occasions teach new duties; Time makes ancient good uncouth;
BY THOMAS MOORE.
Oh, no!- not e'en when first we loved,
Were thou as dear as now thou art, Thy beauty then my senses moved,
But now thy virtues bind my heart. What was but passion's sigh before,
Has since been turned to reason's vow: And though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now !
Although my heart, in earlier youth,
Might kindle with more wild desire; Believe me it has gained in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire. The flame now warms my inmost core
That then but sparkled on my brow; And though I seemed to love thee more,
Yet oh I love thee better now.
LOVE AND LIVE.
I said once, madly, that I'd hate my race,
For so much base ingratitude and wrong As e'er was cradled in the pine,
As it had measured out to me, in place No bird had ever eye so fearless
Of justice, which it had deferred so long. Or wing so strong as this of mine;
My best affections I thought wasted long enough, The winds not better love to pilot
On what rewarded only with a cold rebuff.
I turned away, and went in search of rest
And peace in Nature's quiet solitude :But better he loves the lusty morning
Here all I found with loving kindness blest, When the last white star yet stands at bay,
And here I found for resignation,-food :And earth, half-waked, smiles a child's forewarning Here first I learnt to know myself, and sought to know Of the longed-for mother-kiss of day;
W bat I was for, and what for all things live and grow. Then with a lark's heart doth he tower,
In stagnant pools I saw the lily nourished By a glorious upward instinct drawn,
By fragrant roses on their borders shaded; No bee nestles deeper in the flower,
I saw the woodbine here with ivy flourished, Than he in the bursting rose of dawn.
And birds for pleasure in their waters waded; What joy to see his sails uplifted
I saw pink meadow-sweet by poison hemlock grow, Against the worst that gales can dare,
And read a lesson here-a truth that all should know. Through the northwester's surges drifted, Bold viking of the sea of air!
I wandered to the woods and cheerful groves, His eye is fierce, yet mildened over
And found them full of joy and melody; With something of a dove-like ruth,
The birds seemed happy singing of their loves, I am his master less than lover,
And nought seemed lonely I could hear or see; His short and simple name is Truth.
The flowers gave their bloom and fragrance to each Whene'er some hoary owl of Error
And all seemed near akin-as near as friend or Lags, though his native night be past, And at the sunshine hoots his terror,
brother. The falcon from my wrist I cast;
The trees were social and the flowers and birds, Swooping, he scares the birds uncleanly
And nothing lonely was, nor yet unloved; That in the holy temple prey,
All seemed to chide my mood almost in words, 'Then in the blue air floats serenely
More eloquent than I could hear unmoved; Above their hoarse anathema.
To make bird-cradles, vines and branches interlocked, The herd of patriot wolves, that, stealing,
And floral bells sang lullabies as these were rocked. To gorge on martyred Freedom run, Fly, howling, when his shadow, wheeling,
I saw that nothing could exist alone Flashes between them and the sun;
That all was made by love, and lived for love; Well for them that our once proud eagle
And all that lived in borrowed colors shoneForgets his empire of the sky,
All bade me back to love and friendship move. And, stript of every emblem regal,
I went, and tried my best to love my fellow-men, Does buzzard's work for Slavery.
And by the law of life abide, and live again.
*** The Prophets, do they live forever."-Zech. 1.5.
Those spirits God ordained The rush of thy fierce swooping bringeth
To stand the watchmen on the outer wall,
Upon whose soul the beams of truth first fall,
They who reveal the Ideal, the unattained,
And to their age, in stirring tones and high, The falcon Truth hangs poised forever,
Speak out for God, Truth, Man and LibertyAnd marks them with his vengeful eye.
Such Prophets, do they die ?
BY ANNE C. LYNCH.