Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1854-02-16
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For the Courier.
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BY NJ. z. S.


As rainbow colors flee [plav,
From the storm cloud where the wild winds
And leave the blue canopy.
The virgin spring hath flown on wings,
To another distant land,
To bask where the deep blue ocean brings
Its zephyrs soft and bland.
And The summer too, with her dreamy SIX les
And Autumn's richer glow,
Hath fled. A lesson that Paradise
Is found not here below.
The Winter hath come with frozen reign,
Like the icy touch of Death;
And with the year, DER jewell'ed plain,
Hath bound each glowing wreath.
And sadly with those scenes have flown,
Things that to US were d ear;
Perhaps some friends last parting tone
Hath fell upon the ear.
Or, we have followed TO the grave,
Bright ones-loved too well,
To rest where violets ever wave,
And the winds low anthems swell.
Or the Joy that DER our pathway shona,
With light that seemed from Heaven;
Hath been dispelled by shadow S throne,
From land with sorrows riven.
And the Mariner bold, hath roamed afar.
From his home far DER he deep,
TO plough the main, where the glowing stars
Soft on the pillows sleep.
And when the waves were dashing high,
In their wild TEN pestuous foam;
He hath gazed with tears on the arching sky
And dreamd OF his childhood hom3.
The deep blue sea with its coral cave,
Hath hid beneath its fold,
Forms of the beautiful, loved and brave,
Withtreasur'd heaps of gold.
And fame hath be en- the watchword high,
Of many warrior proud,
When standing where the banners fly,
Amid the battle cloud.
For fame he nerv'd his mighty a rm-
Fame was the air he breathed,
And sought the laurens magic charm,
Around his brow enwreathed.
But Death hath paid the laurers brow,
AS well as the lowly one;
A nd the sound Of fame, where is il now :
To the shades of the tomb tbs gone.
Bright scenes have flown with their mystic
spell,
Away in the distant past,
And memory only can dispeh
The shadows DER them cast.
But weep We not for the old year gone,
With all its loves and cares;
For the New Years just began TO dawn,
And sacred beauty wears.
F or see, ah see in the dappled East,
The suns bright rays unfurpd;
New life--new joy--to man and beast,
Is bending DER the world.
For heralds Of love are on the wing
List, hear their blissful strains.
OF joys divine they sweetly sing,
OF seasons to come again.
The balmy Spring from the sunny land,
Where she now doth fondly stay,
Will come again with her sister band
March. April and aow'ry May.
The Summers beauteous leafy bowers,
Twin'd by every wreath.
That can be formd from the fairest flowers
Fann'd by the evenings breath.
Will all return with visions, as bright
As those that have passed away;
And scenes of the old year cloth'din night
May open to perfect day.
Dear kindred friends who's wandering fee
Have pressed a distant shore;
May now return our greetings meet,
On earth to roam no more.
Dark shadows from our path dis pei,
Meath hopes benignant rays,
That with the New Year 5 glory swell.
In dreams of brighter days.
Weep not for lovd ones who have di ed
For fancy says they come
Ateve when the starlight silver tide,
Floats round the welAin dome.
They come on the wings of peace and love
To guard our quiet sleep
Whispering dreams of joys above,
That oft fill our slumber deep.