THE VILLAGE CHURCHYARD.
{"newspaper_name": "Litchfield enquirer.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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THE VILLAGE CHURCHYARD. A beautiful and interesting lady of eighteen, was buried more than twenty years ago, in thevillage of M, in Connecticut From the awful de- velopments referred to in the last stanZa, no doubt remained of her having been buried alive It is we'll known to the writer, who was present at her funeral, that, in digging another grave many years afterward, in consequence of acciden- tally striking so near as to discover her body turned in peculiar position, the fears which had been entertained were entirely confirmed Twas an autumnal eve twilight's soft gleam Had faded-and the murmuring Zephyr sighed When by the glitter of the moons pale beam, saw shadowy form before me glide! It vanishes and the low-whispering breeze

 Waits the faint cadence of dying sigh: Surely among these glooms, oerarched with trees, Some disemboded spirit hovers nigh. Lo! other phantom forms are now arrayed,

 Like Deaths dread messengers, alorg the vale; Slow they dissolve, and disappear in shade,

 Where dngy curtains overhang the dale. o Fancy dar'st thou finger o'er the scene,

 Or tempt the gloom with an adventurous tread? 1? Or view those forms of superhuman mein,

 That wander OCT the City of the Dead? Full oft in boyhood, on yon moonlit glade,

 My foolish fancy heard some fearful yell; But ah ye SolltudeS of ghostly shade,

 Who shall your mystic village legend tell! Say do dream? no such unearthly sound

 Or sight disturbed these solemn shades before, Till SHE was laid beneath this lonely mound, In besuty's prime, in distressful hour. saw the rosy tinge on her fair cheek,

 As though the Autt'ring spirit hover'd near; The spell-bound voice was dumb-she could mol

 speak:

 Ilook'd and listen'd-life nor voice was there Nought couldevoke her from the slumbering spell And now her spirit sighs the fearful tale, As, wak'd by hollow chimes, the village bell

 Filings its wild echo on the midnight gale! Lo now I stand beside the sunken mound.

 With twenty summers grassy turf o'ergrown, Since, round this sepulchre of gloom profound, I heard the struggling sigh, the stifled groan. heard the tumbling clay. o drsary sound Earth fell to earth, and sprinkling dust to dust They laid her form beneath the cheerless ground, To wait the resurrection of the just. Long years have rolri since by that sainted dust, A mothers grave was open'd near her side: fl n,oulcter'd cofin, faithiess to its trust.

 RsueaPd, that in this naTro,o house she died