New-York daily tribune., 1844-03-30
For the York Tribune.
TILE DOW.

THE SHAD w
Jsrr al my task, with the suns blessed iisht
Eormvr richest of gifts from morn I'll Right.
And lis, to the sound Of the srampling feet
That are ringing along on the stony street;
AID many shadow ofpasse:s-by
Comes dmming the light to ny careful eye
Like flittrg mist the easement thrown.
One momenti, falls, and the next is gone
As, borne by tide ,ha, will nor stay,
The passer goeth his destined way
And never look out on the throDSioe ''a'H
To watch if their footsteps return aga
But every morn throush the open uoo''
On. ,;rc.r;nc ,,,dow hath marked The EooI,
Too silent and slow for the busy 'h'ops'
Asi, bore some weary weight aiohs'
And raise n,y eyes each dag 20 see
w,.r II oasseth between the sun and me.
saworn old man, and has iocRs OF grey
U,trimu,rd ard long, on his shoulders lay;
With palsied hand, and a iatenns tread,
He ,ottereth on, and his weary head
Is bowed half way TO his mother eartn,
And they say there hath been since hs hour OF o'lsh
A century rold-and his lot Is still
A place mid the sons OF men 10 MI.
The tender leaves Of the cowsl'p sfeen'
Nav be through ms willow baskst seen
Or the early roots from the garden pulled
Or the berries ripe which his hand hath cuied
And he beareth them from door;o door,
Earning his bread-a scanty store
When the Summers sun shines warm ana ifee'
Weary and faint, ween. is he;
Blu, hunger hath spurs for his tagging ieet,
And he struggles on in the soltiy heat;
Picking his careful way along.
And shrinking aside from the ,os;!ins th!ocs,
Aud peerug through misty eyes IN raiE
For a fifIner spot for his trembling cane.
Few are.the objects that meet his sight:
For never as in will ne stand upright
Few are the pleasures that osr him roll,
For he claims no KIN with living SOUL
There 3 no one TO Tighten his waning life,
He hath no daughter, nor son, nor vile
And his sire, and his brolheIs-long since they Tell
II that CORY field where he fought so we'll
IT is this worn old man, as he totters past,
Whose lingering shade on ny floor is cast
And only when he went by my door
Have paused to sigh that /. too, was poor;
And still (but wherefor cannot tell}
AS my eye on this time bowed veteran tell,
A pensve thought to my mind hath sprung,
OF the days when he. like myself, was young,
And his eye clear, and his lip. and brow,
Lighter and fieer than mine now
And his foot trod firmly and proudly then
Mid the busiest ranks OF the bodies, men;
Aud agaln l've thought that !! ye, might be
Weary and worn, and bowed as he.
II was thus that learned TO low so we'll
And often ] turned with listening ear
The sound Of is comiug steps 20 hear,
Or TO wipe tear from moistensd eye
As that aged man went slowly by.
so passed the Spring and the Summer away,
And greeted him still each sunny day;
But missed him at length one dewy morn,
When the sun looked over the golden corn,
And waited in vain through the lve.long day,
But no totterng footsteps came that way
And my spirit was sadder al eventi1e.
As if some blessing had been denied.
A gain and again the day pissed by,
And no lingering shadow had dimmed my eye;
But at length was reused by sulieu sound,
And heavy tread o'sr the stony ground,
And turned from my window en- anxious eye,
And saw where desolate heerse went by,
And ! knew from that cofiia, msshared and wide,
That that aged man at length had died.
My eye sunk back as the train went past.
And the tears on my paper fell thick aud FAST
Fill the half-lrawn sketch my hard had traced.
knew not why I should weep for him,
Whose sun oflife had so long been dim
Unless it might be that no other tear
Of sorrow wonld fall o'er:his silent bier.
And yet it was not for him wept.
,or sweet knew was the SLEEP he slept;
He had but sought that home at last.
Where the friends Of his youth had long sncy passed.
But my bosom was swelling with feelings stranSe-
4 thought Of Time, and athought Of hanSe-
thought Of Decays all blighting breath
\ thought of Sorrow-a thought Of Death
And thought beside Of that peaceful home
Yhele the cares of earth have no power 10 come
Twas mnglo tide that DER me swept,
When knew of the sleep that old man slept
And the tears would roll from my brimming eye,
And wept-I wept-Iknew no. why. H. E 6.