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FALVEY MEMORIAL LIBRARY
FALVEY MEMORIAL LIBRARY
Dime Novel and Popular Literature
The New World
The New World, Quarto Edition, v. II, no. 23, Whole Number 53, Saturday, June 5, 1841.
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The New World, Quarto Edition, v. II, no. 23, Whole Number 53, Saturday, June 5, 1841.
Benjamin, Park, 1809-1864.
Miller, Thomas, 1807-1874.
14 February 2017
New York : J. Winchester
Dime Novels and Popular Literature
Summer morning / by Thomas Miller.
Heavy with rosy gold. >Aside are driven The lowliest bush that by the waste is seen, Hath clrdnged its dusky for a golden green The milkniuid o'er the dew-bathed meadow r ’ l V x ‘ l ' - ., ‘ i v . r ,4 , ‘PARK BENJAMIN. EDITOR. x J. WINCIIESTER, PUBLISHER. , . ' e - . n . y . V , K ‘ V v ' I , V ' , “ No pent-up Iltito tontratts out powers ; Elie whole niibottnb ch" Qiontment is ours! " , A.-....-,, ‘N. . 4 QUARTO nnrrrorr.‘ ’ oi-'sicE"ao"itNN swans.-r. urea ANNUM. Vonuisti: [l....No. 23.‘ - NEW-YORK. SA'I‘URl)AY, JUNE 5. 1541. . xvnotc Nrneea S3)” 1- ’ . K V ‘ J -v , ' . . A chequ r d I‘ lit i l" b I tli I . TTcll ye sugecmwhence these feelings rise,- 7 V V 4‘ ' l Jftrst Qlitttrtraii Qihittous. 1Vhieli;n'iii% ,.‘:.'3Z.T.?.‘..“...2.”l?fl. .E.‘“‘.“.'..'.“’ somwrui an we dun.-red mi. V . Vs . V A The deep-voiced timid. his i-pvcltled bosom heaves, Glimpses of broken. bright. and stormy skies. ‘ , V , , , And like a silver stream his song doth run, izhich ;Il‘ll3 CErl?:lhe,?ea(l1hnS no cgntriil ‘I g . ‘ , r g .D.,w,,u,e1aw V319 dgy, ",1, 5 1 e d , y oea I e sea a t oug ti us acliwur rol ‘l - ' ' ’ . A little bird now hop; Egsjije ‘:Il‘i>g i,,.:.,1:e, 5 un Meriiory’s the breeze that through the cordage raves, ’ I ‘ i ' ‘ BY 'i'Ho:vLis MILLER, . iJ;‘Z$2'i'EE'.1.i”3.".Ll2l‘3.lE Z’,li.'5’;'.‘Zi"i‘..'?il"‘ As it .ifJ'iZ$’J.i"$.“.‘i.‘Zl'.$‘;’ri'2.‘iy".‘L‘l‘$’;l'“"‘ “l““?" L . I ,,,.,,,,,,, ,, At , ,,,, ,, ,,,, ,,.-,,,,,,‘.. .. ,,,,,L. 5",.c‘,,“'.. ...,,,,,‘,, Twitters and drinks again, then seeks hercloistcred nook. . That. murmttring shore-ward break. over a reef of zfltt‘-E , ,. or was coitninit," ‘- nor:-i-on Gown, -- nu v..nIiortn,” lrc ‘ j ‘ ’ > . , . t ‘ ' . I , g , . - , what varied colours o'er the landscape play! Halgk how the merry b,31l5]l’Ing 0 er itmbvlaie. , . L M A > The very clouds seem at their ease to lean, 9W "9": "m5l9- fl? 0,5‘ N51 15 1' 0W5- ' ,,. "A‘:5";f,:,f:;"hf;9:ljf,',lfj‘;g,f,f:‘:$‘,;‘::,;’f H"""’"' And Ilie whole earth to keep glad holiday. The re-1 cock sends his vote? him ihetzale, . ,. ’< ‘ -l . yr ' ' Frnm the thatched grunge his answering HVIl crown: ‘ l . The vassal clouds, which bow as she draws nigh, And catch her scattered gcmsof orient die, . The pttdrliail ruby which her pathway strews; Argent and amber, now thrown useless by : g The uiicolored clouds wear what she doth refuse, s For only once does Mora her suit-dyed garments use. 5 No print of sheep-track yet hath crushed a flower; The spider’: woof with silvery dew is hung As it was headed ere the daylight hour: I The hooked hramblc just as it was strung, ' ’ hVhen on each leaf the Night her crystals flung. Then hurried off, the dawning to elude; Before the golden-beaked blackbird sung, Or ere the yellow-brooms, or gorses rud ’ I-Idd bated their armerl heads in lowly gratitude. , . From Nattire‘s old cathedral sweetly ring ' The wild-bird choirkbumt of the woodland band, i Greenrhooded nuns, who ’mid the blossoms sing; Their leafy temple, gloomy, tall and grand, . Pillared with oaks,and roofed with Heuven’s owuliand. Ilarkt how the anthem rolls through arches dun :- . " Morning again is come to light the land; The great world's Comforter, the mighty Sun, . Has yoked his goldenstecds, the glorious race to run." The dusky foragers, the noisy rooks, Have from their green high city-gates rushed out, ‘ , To rurninzige ftirrowy fields and ilowery nooks ; ‘ , On yonder branch now stands their glossy scout. ’, As yet no busy insects buzz about, No fairy thunder o’er the air is rolled; V The drooping buds their crimson lips still pout;. Those stars of earth, the daisies white, unfold ‘ And soon the buttercups will give back " gold for gold." " Hark l hark,’ the lurk” sings ’mid the silvery blue; ' Behold her flight, proud man! and lowly bow. She seems the first that does forppnrdou sue, I As though the guilty stain which lurks below V Had Iuuclied the flowers that drooped uhuve herbrow, .VVhen she all night slept by the daisies‘ side ; " And now she soars where purityvdothl flow, I . Where new-born light is with no sin al red, . I And pointing with her wings Ileaven-‘witrd our thoughts . would guidei. ' . - ‘ l ' In belted gold the been with “merry march " ' Through flowery towns go sounding on their way: V They pas the streakid woodbine's Btlthsllalned arch, . ‘And onward glide through streets ofsheeted May. Nor till they reach the summer-rose: stay, Where mnidcri-buds are wrapt in dewy dreams, Drowsy through breathing backuhe‘ new-niowa hay, That rolls its fragrance o’er th-2 fringed sireams,-- Mirrors in which the Sun now decks his quivering beams Uprise the lambs, fresh from their flowery slumber, (The daisies they pressed down rise from the soil ;)- ‘He guardrth them who every star doth number,‘ r who called His Son a lamb,--“ the Lamb of trod ;’’p . And for His sake withdrewgth’ uplifted rod, ’ g r Bidding each cloud turn to a silvery fleece, . The imaged flock for which our Sh’-‘pherd trod The paths of sorrow, that we might find ,P93C9 Those emblems of his love will wave till time shall cease. On the far al-ty leans the old ruined mill, Through its rent sails the broken iiunbeattls 3'1"‘: Gliding the, trees that belt the lower hill,‘ , - , I Audtha old thorns which on its summit grow. Only the ready rmrsb that sleeps below.’ >W.ith its dwarf bushes, is concealed from View 5 d now a struggling thorn its head doth show. , Another halfsliakes otfihe smoky blue, Just where the dusty gold streams through the heavyvdcw x And there the hidden riveflingering dreams. , . You scarce can see the banks which round it he; " Tllnl withered trunk, a tree, or shepherd seems, , Just as the light or fancy strikes the eye. l ., .' Even the very sheep, which graze hard by,’ , So blend their fleeces with the misty haz ' They look like clouds shook from the e. unsunnod ski; Ere morning o'er the eastern hills did blaze x- ' - . The vision fades as they move further on to grue- ' hvhere stream-kissed willows make a silvery s In honor oftliis lovely Summer Mom: The rutted roads did never seem so clean, There is no dust upon the wayside thorn, - For every bud looks as if newly born. - A cottage girl trips by with Sltltrlfing look, Steadying the little basket on her head: And where a plank bridges the narrow brook She stops, to see her fair form shrdowed. The stream redeem her cloak of rusaet red; ' p Below she sees the trees and deep blue s ‘y Thu flowers which downward look in that clear bed. The very birds which o'er its lltlgltllless fly 2- - She parts her loose -blown hair, than wondering passes by. In was and threes; for it is Mnrkeb ay. Beyond those bills stretches a little town, And ihithv-rward the rustics bend their way, Crossing the scene in blue, and red, and grey; Now by green hedge-rows, now by oak-trees old, As they by stile or thatched collage stray. Peep through the rounded hand, und you ‘ll behold Such gems as Morland drew, in frames of sunny gold. Now other forms move o’er the footpaths brown d . A ladened ass, a maid with w-‘cker maun’, A shepherd lad driving libs lambs to sell, Gaudy-dressed girls move in the rosy dawn, ' Vomen whose cloaks become the landscape well, Farmers whose‘ thoughts on crops and prizes dwell; An old man with his cow and calf draws near. ' Anon you hear the Village Carrier's bell,- Then does his grey old tilted curt appear, . ' Moving so slow, you think he never will get there. They come from still grern nooks, woods old and hoary, The silent work of many a summer night, , Ere those tall trees attained their giant glory, Or their dark tops did lower that cloudy height: They came from spots which the grey hawthnrns light, iver. For years their steps have worn those footpaths bright i which wind along thelficlds and by the rim, . That makes a n-iurmuring sound, a “ ribble-bibble ” aver. , - , . A troop of soldiers pass with stately pai:c,- ‘ Their early music wakes the village street:' , Through you white blinds peeps many a lovely face, Smiling-perchance unconsciously how sweet! ‘ One does the carpet press with blue-veined feet, ' ‘ Not thinking how her fdir neck tlic exposes, Bulytvllh white foot timing the drum‘: deep beat; And when again she on her pillow doles, ’ . Dreams how she ‘ll dance that tune ’mong Summer's richest roses. y , . - So let her,dream, even lisbrauty should! ‘ Let the white plumes alhwart her sliltnbera sway: VVhy should I steep their swdliugsnow in blood, or bid her think of buttle’s grim array 4. Truth will too soon her blinding star display, ‘ x And like a fearful comet meet her eyes. ’ And yet how peaceful they pass on their wayl l How grand the sight as up the till] the)’ "39 5,- I will notgthink of cities reddening in the skies. ' . I-Iowisweet those rural sounds float by the hill! ‘, The grasshoppers shrill chirp rings o‘er the ground, The jingling she:-pvbells are but stllloni sir i The clapping gate closes with hollow bound, There ’s niusii: in the church-clock’s measured sound. The ring-dot-e’s song, how breeze-like comes and goes, Now here, now there, it seems to Want-lff Ibltndz ‘ The red cow's voice along the upland 30“; His base the brindled ‘bull from the tar mesdgvw lows- '. r V ’ “Cuckoo! cuckoo!” ah! well I know Ill)’ W19. , Those summer-sounds the backward in" d0 bfmgi . Like Memory's locked-up lmque once more afloat =. ‘ ‘They carry me away to life's glad spring. H x .. i To home, with all its old bonighs rustleing. . . ‘T is a sweet sound I but now I feel nnt glad; I miss the voice: which wet’! WM“ ‘O “BK; ,When on the hills I roamed, a happy Ind " Cuckoo l" it is the grave-not thee-that DI-Iliel me sad. t P I oes, Her tllclterlqip kirtle ever holding tightr g r . And now her song ring; through the green hedge-rows, , i . r Her milkvltit hoops glitter like silver bright :- - i I hear hi-r lover singing somewhere out of sight. Ivhere soars that spire, our rude forefathers prayed ; ' TlilllIt‘I' they came, from rnur;y a thick-lenved dell Year after year, and o’er those notpaths strayed, V . V lVl1en summoned by the sounding Sul.thntlI-bell,- ‘ -. . For in Ilmsfr walls they deemed that God did dwell. ' And still they sleep within that hell's derp sound. ' , t n Spire doth here of no distinction lellx . i . , . .. 0‘er rich and poor, marble. and earthly mound, - ' ' i The Monument of all,‘it marks one common ground. ' .. - r ' It See yonder smoke, before it curls to Ileaven lilinglea its hlus among the elm-trees tall ; Shrinking like one who fears to be forgiven, ’ I ‘t o on the earth azaio doll] prostrate full, ‘ ‘ - And 'mid the bending green each sin recall. . , , Now from their beds the cottnze-children rise, ' I ‘ Rouse y some early plsiymate’s noisy bawl; , ' ' ii And on the t‘ltIOI‘-hl'p stnntliiig, rub their eyes, i l . Stretching their little arms, and gaping at the skies. " . I r . 4‘, ' The leaves “ drop, drop,” and dot the crisped stream ' l ' So quirk, each circle wears the first away; ‘ Far out the tufted bulrush seems to dream, , And to the ripple nnda its head alway; v The wnter-fling: with one another play, Bowing to every breeze that blows between, ‘ . , lVhile purple dragon flies their wings display: , ' ‘V ’ v a’ The restless swallow's arrowy flight is seen, A . ' . ' Dimpling the sunny wave, then lost amid the green. - . 4. ‘-' ’ g The boy who last night passed that darltsome lane, ' ' t - l , Trembling nl every sound, and pale with fear; ; ‘ r r . i ’ I Who shmilt when the long leaves talked to the rain, i . Anrl tried to sing, his sinking heart to slicer; . Ilears now no brook wail ghost-like on his ear, - l I No dead-man‘: groan in the black-bertle'a wing : ' But whrrc the deep dyed butterflies appear,V. And on the flowern like folded pen blooms swing, ‘ I with nuplcsti hat in hand be after them doth spring. . "In the far sky the distant landscape melts, Like pilitd clouds tinged with n darker hue ; Even the WHOKI which you high upland belts " . . g . i ' Looks like a range of clouds, of deeper bluo. '- '- ' 3 , .‘ (‘ne withered tree bursts only on the view,m A bald bare Kink,’ which on the summit grows, (And looks as iffrnm out the sky it grew :) That tree has home a thousand wintry snows, H , ’ And seen unnumbared mornings gild its gnarled bouglis. You weailier-beaten gray old finger post ' Stands like Ti‘me‘e land-mark pointing to decay; . The very rondsitonce marked out are lost: ‘ 2 , ) ‘ Thr common was encronchetl on every day i B grasping ‘men who bore an unjust sway, - Aurl rent the gill from Charity‘: dead hands. , The post does still one broken arm displa u ‘ ' ‘ Which now points outwhere the New Worlthouse stands. As ifit said “Poor man! those walls are all thy lands.” Where o’er you woodlandstream dark branches bow, ’ Patches of blue nre let in from the sky. ' ' Throwing a chequered underllght below; Where the deep waters steeped in gloom roll by;‘ . L00kl"tl “kt Hope, who ever watcheth nigh, ’ ' - ' v 1 'And throws her cheering ray o’er Life’: long night, ,’. . - i - When wearied man would fain lie down and die. 1 r ' ' Past the broad meadow now it rolleth bright, ‘ ’ V Which like a mantle green seemsvedged with silver light. 3 V All things, nave Man, this Summer morn rejoice: s ‘ l .t ' Sweet smile: the sky, so fair a world to view; . Unto the earth below the flowers give voice ; Even the wayside-weed ofhnmeliest hue I Looks up erect amid the golden blue, ,, , , And thus it speaketh to the thinking mind :- ‘ . . "Olerlook me not! I for a purpose grew, r ; V ' i . Though long rmiyest thou that purpose try to find i l 9n us one sunshine falls! God only is not blind I," . i England, my country l-land th I ll " ‘ . L ‘ 5 Vllhere those I love, living ornrleislidlfstilllleillvilzlihl ,‘ ll U