The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1855-01-10
From the Wheeling Intelligencer.
The New Years Might.
BY JEAN PAUL RICHTER.
Translated from the German by Erik Toln

An old man stood in the New Years
midnight at the window, and shivering,
looked with longing dispair out on the in.
flexible, eternally brilliant Heavens, and
down on the pure white, silent Earth where
woke that night, none so wretched and
sleepless as he. For mis- grave stood near
to him; his head was white with the SHOWS
Of age, and from out of all his whole rich
life, he had brought nothing but failures,
crimes and errors, shattered body, q
desolated soul, heart full OF venomen
and old age Of remorse. But to night his
youths day loated in brigh, vision before
him; he\ stood again by his Fathers, side
in the clean morning, where the two paths
of Life crossed. Upon the right, the SUM-
beam path of Virtue, stretching far away
into land Of rest, filled with light and
cleaning angels: But the left, sinking
through the gloomy cavern of Vice into
blacker depths full of slow dropping poison
Of slimy serpen;s and suitry vapors.
And now the serpents nestled in his
|.heart. and the poison fell from his tongue
This knew he, and now he knew thespath
which he had trod. Mad. with unut,era.
oio oSouy u0 Siiou " hedfou dlouu.
"Gye me my childhood but once again!
Let me stand again, o my Father! at the
crossing of the paths that may choose
my way"
But his childhood was long since gone.
He saw the swamp fires aud death-lights
dancing and shining ON the graves in
Gods acre, and he thought-"they are
my wasted days" A star fell gli,tering
from Heaven, and in its fall faded and
vanished in the black earth. "Lo! there
am l!'' moaned his ruined soul; and again
the sharp serpent, tooth of Remorse sunk
deeper in the wound. -.
Far over the gray fields, the Windmill
lifted its weary arms, in dreary, dumb
supplication TO the sky. Horrid shadows
crept up towards him on the thatch, and
TO his terror-struck eye, skull which lay
below in the church-yard, began to grad.
ually clothe itselfan his features.
Suddenly, in the midst of his terror,
broke there from the church. tower a peal
of joyous harmony-a mighty anthem ol
thanksgiving for the New Year. 1t died
softly away-it rose, and swept with rever.
berating harmony out over the wide still
0dTtH u tu6 uOEILOu. huu u0 ToIoIBUcE.
ed the friends Of his youth, and that now
they were teachers in the world, fathers oI
happy children, strong loving men, and
he cried bi,terly-'I also might have
looked on New Year with dry eyes
had chosen their part in my youth
knew, oh, my father, how also to be happy,
had listened to thee" In feverish fan
cy the memories of his youth arose-the
skull glowed and freshened into the soft
rosy face Of his boyhood-ihe bright smile
he bore when he left his native village for
the far off cityl
He could look no more--he hid his
eyes; thousands OF burningtears s.reamed
down into the snow; he only could sob
out wildly--in q bitter agony, "Come
once again, oh, my youth. come again!''
And it came again, for in New Years
night he had but fearfdlly dreamed
was still youth. But his sins and errors
were no dream: and he thanked God thst
he was still young, and might turn from
the path Of vice and enter the sunlight
road that the dim land Of rest and angels
ended.
And turn thou also-cbild reader, that
still in the crossed paths standes. his
frightful dream. shall to thee one day be-
come a reality, and the hour may come
when thou shall cry in bitterest mourning
.'come again, oh. my Youth return but
once again!" But to thee it shall return
no moro forever.