The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1844-01-06

Since last the Carrier sung
With hasy exit hath gone
In unchanglng past among.
happy New Year, friends!
Long life and health may you enjoy,
And all Of good that Heaven sends,
Is the wish Of the CARRIER Boy
Poor Carrier Boy again he strikes
His old and broken harp. It's chords
lave snaPpd save one-wlth that he wakes
These sounds, he ain would turn to words.
TO words that nigh: your Cents-a,iveness touch
And make you leel-aye in your pockets feel,
And give mIte-he does not ask for much
Ills just that he to you, should thus appeal
Say, does he not, when bowls the rudest storm,
When blasts wall through the town. and snow & sleet
beal on ms hea'' and you are snug and warm,
Day with his WHG don't he, you weekly greetl
And shall he now appeal you in van2
Oh no! your kindness he has tested long,
on have been liberal oft, and now again,
You will reward him for his humble song
lie is not vain enough TO call his rhvminy "nicer-
No "genllemn accom- ,lisled' swcated DER it weeks
lie turned his old IN lchne-one evening did suffice
10 grind it OUT aud for itselfit speaks
Excuse the errors of his hobbng Law,
Pardon his nun'rous faults and mauv blunders,
"he he, IN slight, reviews times past away,
And points to coming and future wonders.
Oh FoRTY-THREE, it seems but Yesterday,
Since thou vert usherel in with Joyous note,
ny birthday anhem scarce hah died away,
III on The air thy requium doth float.
The glittrilg stars Of night have lit lIlv wake
Ihe winter winds have howIetl lhv funeral duge:
The rolling wave of ! ime dIdst thee o'erake
And thou art buried meath its 'whelming surge
Along thy ylyC 1 off i
~ seeds at sorrow, woe. and bitter strife
n" angry OTIS thou Oft was smiling too,
Dispensing peace around, and Joys ofIe
Tnou 'lals thy Spring. and walked by its soft BREATH
Were love flowers DER hill and vale revealed;
And leaflets !reen and gay burst out to wreath
The forests brow, and clothe the naked field
Thou hads thy Summer and the waving grain
in ripeness rustIed in thy warm south wind
R"paying well The farmers toll and pain
With pIenteuus harvest, bounliiu and kind
Thou hads thy AUTUMN, and the orchard trees
With luscious fruit bent creaking to the ground
And with IT came the cold and gnstv breeze
oefeihg the leaves, aud scattering them around.
Man has his Spring like thee, and then the homes
VI Youth, like flowers. spring up cheer his wav
As IL the tark M doubt. he onward gropes,
To catch glimpse of Truths ennobling ray
lie too. like thee, his Summer has. and then,
II he IN Spring ndSt with toll and care
tie stands peer amongst those worthy men,
Whose noble br"ws rich sheavQs of honors bear,
His Autumn too comes swiftly on like thine,
When he don't "barren fg ree prove,
Ripe fruits in r.ch and golden clusters shine
The sure reward of honor. truth and love-
And cares of age come on like Autunn's Frost
And nip his flowing Iocks-and they are grew,
Ills brow is wrlnkled, and his eye hath lost,
The fire il flashed forth in his youthful day.
Oh! Spring will come again, and, in the stead
OF scred and wherd leaves new life will start
lea, April will steal on with noseless tread
Her Zephyr's breath new beauty will impart.
But unto man no spring again appears
w inter of Death, by Autumn follows nigh.
Nor prayers, nor signs. nor penitenlial tears,
Can change his destiny-he has to die
Old year we thee breathe thy last,
Thou passed, as other years have passed,
Nor our old Earth from pole to pole
Didst thou ith Millers flames enrol;
His shout and song--his mammoth tent
His loud enthusiastic rant,
Have failed to bring the Judgment day
And now are doomed to die away.
And like that farce. many more,
We hope will die in forty four,
We hope to see to ruin hurled,
That greatest humbng in the world
That hateful locoloco creed,
Which strives TO make nation bleed
To ruin rich-to starve the poor
Oh may it die in forty four.
Old year thy we'll directed steel.
Dls make the monster wrhe and reel,
In Georgia and in chilly Maine
And in the Quaker state of Fem,
In Maryland-in Tennessee,
In short from mountain to the sea,
Thou mad's it quake and shake and SILVER
Beok'nng that, far up salt RIVER"
twill soon be rowd, and laid ont dead,
With all its crimes upon its head
And buried meath Kenkncku CLAY