Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1855-12-25
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(Repubiished By Request.)
The Closing Year.


(Repubiished By ReqWest)
The Closing Year.
BY GEORGE D. PRENTICE.
IT'S mdnight's holy hour and silence now
Is broOding like gentle Spirit o'er
The still and puiselcss world. Hark. on tne winu'
The bell's deep tones are swelling-'tis the kneA
Ofthe departed year No funeral train
Is sweeping paSt--yet, on the stream ana "oou'
With melancholy light, the moonbeamS resi-
Like u pale, spotess shround-thc air Is surfeu
As bv a mOuruer's sigh-and on yon clond
That floats so still aud placdly through heaven
The Spirits Of the Seasons seem to stand
Young Spring bright Summer, Autumn solemn Iorin
And Winter with his aged locks, and oTeatAc
In mournf cadcnces that come abroad
like the far wind harp's wild and touching wall,
A melancholy dirge o'cr the dead year;
Gone from the Earth for ever.
'Tis time
For memory and for tears Within the deep
St;ll ehambaYs of the heart, a spectre dm,
Whose tones arc like the wizard voice OF iime'
Heard from the tomb OF Ages, points its cold
And solemn FINGER 10 the beautiful
Aei holy visions that have passed away,
And leftuo shadow o.. heir loveiiusss
On the dssd ,gastc .. il.v. ifs2, ','eefrc MS
The cli,ia-l;d OF i. re, aud joy 5fI 1--we,
And. bcnGiae inoariluly above The pale
Sweet forms that ;Iuu5er there, scaterS dead how-
ers -
Over what hes passed 10 notlsingness The year
Has goae, and wi many glorious 'nrons hne,,
Ofhapoy dreams. It's mark IS on each brow'
Its shadow in each heart. In its Swiit course
II waved its sceptre o FER the bclntf |,
And they are not. 1t laid us PaIild hand
Upon the strong maa-aid the naughty form
l. flllen, and flashing eye IS din'
1t trod the hall Of revelry, where thronSed
Tb, briSht and iovouS-Gnd the fearful wall
OT s,ricl,en ones is heard, where erSt the song
And reckless shout resOunded. 1t passed oer
The battle plain where sword and spear aud shield
FLASHED in the light of midday and the strength
Ofscrricd hosts is ,hyered, aud the grass,
Green from the soil Of carnage, waves above
The crushed and numbering skeleton. 1t came
Aud faded Ike wreath OF mist at eve;
Yet, ere il melted in the viewleSS air,
Ii heraldcd It's millions to their home
In the dim land Of dreams
Remorseess Time
E;erce S,irit of the Glass and Scythe--what power
Can stay him in his silent course, or melt
His iron heart 10 pity On, stu on
He presses. aud for ever. The proud bird,
The condor Of the Andes, that can soar
Through heavens uniathomable depths, or brave
The fury OF the N0r;hern hurricane,
And bathe his nlunia@e in the hundcr's home,
Furls his broad wiags at nightiall aud sinks down
TO rest upon his mountain cfag-but lime
Knows not the WEIGHT Of sleep or WEAKNESS:
And nights deep darkness has no cham 10 Dind
His rushing pinion. Revelations sweep
O'el. carth, ike troubled visions o'er the breast
OF fdrcamng sorrow-Cities rise and sink
Like bubbles on the water-iiery Isles
Snrinq blazing from the Ocean, and so back
To their mysterious caverns-M Mountains re 'r
To heaven the:r bald aud blackened cliffs and bow
Their tall heads to the plan-new Empires rise,
Gathering the strength Of hoary centuries,
And rush down like the Alpine avalanche,
Startling the aaiioas-and the very Stars,
Yon BRIGHT aad burning bl0zonry OF COP,
Glitter awhile ia their eternal depths,
And Ike the Plcad, loveliest Of their train,
Shoot from thcis glorious spheres aud pass away
10 darkle in their tracSlcs5 void-yet Time,
Time the TomD-builder, holds his fierce career,
Dark, stern, all p,tiless, and pauSes not
Amld the mighty wrecks thar Strew his path,
To SIT and nusc, like other conqucrors,
Uuon the fearful ruin he has wrought