The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1846-01-17
POETRY.
THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.
by GEORGE D. PRENTICE,

- ~ d Y
ny GEORGE D. PRENTICE.
Gdne! gone forever!--Like rushing wave
Another year has burst upon the shore ~
OF earthly being-and its last low tones,
Wandering in broken accents on the air, l
Are dying to an echo. ,s,,
The gay spring [leaves-
With its young charms has gone-gone with its
Its atmosphere of roses-its white clouds
Slumbering like seraphs in the air--ts birds
Telling their loves in musc--and Its streams
Leaping and shouting from the up-plled rocks
To make earth echo with the Joy of waves
And summer, with its dews and showers, has gone;
It's rainbows glowing on the distant cloud
Like spirits Of the Storm; its peaceful lakes
Smiling in their sweet sleep, as if their dreams
Were Of the opening flowers and budding trees
And overhanging sky; and its bright mists
Resting upon the mountain tops, as crows t.u
Upon the heads OF giants. Autumn, too, .,
Has gone with all its deeper glories; gone
With its green hills like affairs of the world
Lifting their rich fruit offerings to their God;
Its cool winds straying md the forest aisles
To wake their thousand wind harps; its serene
And holy sunsets hanging o'er the west
Like banners from the battlements Of Heaven;
And its still evenings when the moonlit sea
Was ever throbbing, like the living heart
Or the great Universe Ay these are now
But sounds and visions Of the past; their deep
Wild beauty has departed from the Earth
And they are gathered to the embrace OF Death,
Their solemn hearld TO Eternity.
Nor have they gone alone High human hearts
Of Passion have gone with them. The fresh dust
Is chill on many breast that burned erewhie
With fires that seemed immortal. Joys, that leaped
Like angels from the heart and wandered free
In lite's young morn to look upon the flowers,
The poetry of nature, and to list
The woven sounds of breeze, and bird, and stream,
al Ia koy hnat, rlran
In silence to the dust. Exultant Hope,
That royed forever On the buoyant winds
Like the bright, starry bird of Paradise,
And chanted to the ever-stenlng heart
In the wild music of thousand tongues,
Or scared INTO the open sky. until
Nights burning gems seemed jewelled on her brow,
Has shut her dropping wing, and made her homo
Within the volceless sepulchre. And Love,
That kneit at PASSIONS holiest shrine, and gazed
On his hearts idol as some sweet star,
Whose purity and distance make it dear,
And dreamed of ecstacies until his soul
Seemed but Tyre, that wakened in the glance
or the beloved one-he too has gone
To his eternal resting place. And where
Is stern Ambition--he " ho madiy grasped
At Glorys heeting phantom--he who sought
His fame upon the battlefield, and longed
a To make his throne pyramid Of bones,
Amid sea Of blood' He too has gone
His stormy voice is mute-his mighty arm
Is nerveless on its clod-hs very name
Is but meteor of the night of years
Whose CLEANS flashed out moment o'er the earth
And faded into nothiDgness. The dream
OF high devotion beauty's bright array
And life's deep idol memories-all have passed
Like the cloud shadows on starlight stream,
Or a soft strain of music. when the winds
Are slumbering on the biow.
5a.r Yet why muse
Upon the pa't with sorrow? Though the year
Has gone to blend with the mysterious tide
OF old Eternity, and borne along
d. Upon its heaving breasta thousand wrecks
OF glory and of beauty--yet, why mourn
That such is destiny' Another year
Succeedeth to the past-in their bright round
Il The seasons come aud ga--the same blue arch,
That hath hung Ser us. will hang DER us yet
The same pure stars that we have ov'd TO watch,
Will blossom still at twilight's gentle hour,
e Like lilies on the tomb of Day and still
Man will remain, to dream as he hath dreamed,
And mark the earth with passion. Love will spring
4 From the lone tomb of old Affections--Hope
And Joy and great Ambition, will rise up
As they have risen-and their deeds will be
Brighter than those engraven on the scroll
OF parted centuries Even now the sea
OF coming years, beneath whose mighty waves.
Life's great events are heaving into birth,
Is tossing to and fro, is if the winds
OF heaven were prisoned in its soundless depths
And struggling TO be free.
Weep not, that Time
Is passing dn-it will ere long reveal
brighter era to the nations Hark!
Along the wales and mountains of the earth
There is deep, portentous murmurlng
Like the swift rush Of subterraneous streams,
Or like the mingled sounds Of earth and air,
When the fierce Tempest, with sonorous wing,
Heaves his deep folds upon the rushing winds,
And hurries onward with his night of clouds
Against The eternal mountains 'T'is the voice
OF infant FREEDOM and her stirring call
Is heard and answered in thousand tones
From every hilltop of her western home
And ~ il breaks across old Oceans flood
And 'FreedOm!' 'Freedomr is the answering shout
OF nations starting from the spell of years [ens! !
The day spring-see--'tis Frightening in the heav-
The watchmen Of the night have caught the sign -
From tower to tower the signal fires flash free
And the deep watch word like the rush cf seas
That heralds the volcanoes bursting flame,
Issounding o'er the earth. Bright years Of Hope
Aud life are on the wing! Yon glorious bow
OF Freedom. bended by the hand OF God,
Is spanning Times dark surges. Its high Arch,
A type of Love and Mercy on the cloud,