Minnesota weekly times. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1854-1859, 1857-01-03
A ID d n T. s 8
CARRIER OF THE ST. PAUL DAILY TIMEs,
TO HIS PATRONS,
JanuaRy 1sts 1851.
OF THE


or THE
CARRIER OF THE ST. PAUL DAILY TIM8s
TO HIS PATRONS,
Janusry ii, 1857.
Hark! IT'S dirge! The matin towers
Are pIaintive with the knell Of hours:
From the arcadean grove4 of Night
The day-spring gushes inssdight,
As Time, upon his magic steed,
Flies swiftly over poor and mead,
And, on his STAR dmined wings,
Another infant NEw YEAR springs!
Meath yon cerulean arches 60
A throng, with measured steps, and slow,
Upon whose consecrated bier
Keeps falling, falling, many tear;
And sunlight, beamiDg from above,
Reflects rainbow on the flowers:
Thus arched with hope and bathed in love,
We bury the departed hours!
Still moves the train, by night and day,
Its shadow ever backward cast,
Till-like dream-it fades away
Beyond the portals of the Past.
But, while the hours have met their doom
Within Oblivion's waste Of waves,
Our dearest friends have found tomb,
And on the hillside yonder, bloom
A score of new-made graves; a..e
And Death doth hush, with cadence low,
The little baby-buds to rest,
And seal his kiss upon the brow
Of darlings we have loved the best.
Life is an ever-speeding car
A link of love-a freight of fears
Still rushing, like wizard star,
Along the iron track of years.
It's well that We should pause anon,
To watch the flashing hours go by;
To mourn the joys and pleasures gone;
To count the mile.stones as they fly;
Then turn we back the pages sere
Of History's record, and survey
The crimes and blessings of the Year
The year that persisted yesterday.
Upon the far-of Euxine shore,
Have met the monarch and the slave,
And bugle-blast and cannon-roar
Have stilled the pulses of the brave.
And Albion's daughters wonder why
The absent come not DER the deep:
In vain they watch the Orient sky,
In vain they list each zephyr-sigh-
Alas! the lovers sleep.
For Celtic heroes hearts are still,
And many are the Moslem slain,
And graves are thickening on the hill,
And bones are whitening on the plain.
4
But now the trump of Death is still;
Gone are the fires which flashed before !;
Glad Peace is smiling through the gloom
And fragrant olive branches bloom
Above the purple gore;
And Wars red baule-fag is furled-
The trophy of peaceful world.
From DER the sea a sorrow.wail
Comes floating on the eastern gale,
From meath Italia's sunny skies.
A true, fearful tale.
Above the ermined line of kings,
The peoples wrongs begin to tower,
Till through the earth the summon rings
90 save us from the tyrants power!'
: And answering truth hath heard the groans
For dynasties are lettering there,
And kings are trembling on their thrones,
And thrones are quaking in the air.
The Eastern minion on his knees
Beneath Oppression's iron yoke,
Hath merely breathed our Western breeze,
And felt his letters nearly broke!
And as he kneels at morn and even,
He prays the same petition DER:
He'd almost give his home 10 Heaven
For one upon this happy shore.
Take courage, comrade! Whether high
Thy banner floats meath Poland sky,
Or where the sorrowing shamrock wave
In beauty DER an Emmet's grave,
Or on the vassal-felds of France,
Or writhing meath the Russian knout;
Take courage while the despots dance,
For Truth is storming the redoubt!
Hope ever, though it seemeth night;
And cleaning in the western skies,
Like an auroral morn shall rise
A world of Liberty and Light.
And then the royal sceptered palm
In vain shall ward the hurting blows,
When Earope's bondmen, brave and calm,
In Revolution seek balm
For all their weight Of woes!
But, look at home. Our chart maintains
That all men free and equal are;
While deadlier despotism reigns
Than that of Pontiff or of Car.
Heavens! what picture! Every vein
With Gods immortal crimson runs;
Yet Man is made chattel slave,
And DER Mount Vernon's sacred grave
Virginia sells her sons!
Groans swell the cicle of our fame,
Whose song is but a smothered sigh;
Our Independence is a name;
Our vaunted Freedom is a lie!
And from the fields of Tennessee,