The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1859-01-29
4 Beautiful }1oeln.
HALFWAY.
BY REV. I. HAMPSTEAD.
Some silver lines begin TO show

Some silver lines begin to show
Amidst the brown, like threads Of snow
Along December hills
When every !right-rycd bird that sings
Has flown, to break with dapplrd wings,
The glass Of Southern rilis.
All, thirty-four! brave tlirty-fonr
Onc green, revolving summer more
viii set my hungry feet
Upon the midway. rounding slope
OF seventy years, while radiant Hope
And pcnsive Memory meet.
o flectng months wasting years!
Sad days! and nights of haunting fears
fc came and We are gone
Yc brought and broke some blessed dreams,
Ic dried some cool, refreshing streams,
And left the dusty stone!
Yet who laments that all arr gon-7--
pours on the cold memorial stone
GrictHs wide, tumul;uous tides :
W hat soul so helpless, poor and vain,
To tread liir's weary road again
For all the gems it hides!
To drink the scorn, to feel the shame,
That eats away the heart like fame,
With not Il face to love
To hear thousand cliriuns call
Away to glory's crowuing hall,
Without the power to move!
I crave it not yet thanks to Thee,
Lord Of the lily, heart AMI $ "a,
For life, though held in pain;
] y"arn, am blind, faint ! pine,
Z, get the glorious task is mine
y better Land TO gain.
Green spread fer me the summer hills,
\ HANGS tl,, lril,I him. tb,,t GI'e
The moons imperial arch.
Mine are the songs Of bird and blast,
The softer memories Of the Past
The stars triumphant mach
IT'S mine TIE brnokat's maze to trace,
Look OH the regal human face
still Il dol, mt Of Gud;
In gentle word and quiet deed,
70 swatlic some hearts that ache or llecd,
Uproot the thistle and vcnomous weed,
end strrw he olive and n,yrt.c seed
Ao violvts strcw the sod
For these, to Thee be incense given.
First, Highest Brightest, King Of Heaven,
Ani Lord Of quick and dead!
!h INKS! Tor the deserts wasted springs,
i for the iulint that nrlrrst sings,
And to the soft winds idle wings.
Uissolycs in diamond, whirs and rings
rs il it heard Thy tread.
DaIi nllfiug pals and sp. ctyal forms,
And roisuI'd blossoms wave;
SIN. as count each VANISHED foe
Aud srvr'ing hand, ! gricvc tcsknow
Tic worst was not the grave.
n ot sadlest are the bells that toll
Some patient loyd and lovely soul
Back to its mansion fled;
Grief hath a dep 7 grief than all
The grave can hrng-the heavy pail
That wraps the Hrins deGl!
True, there are spots like myrt, isles
That bloom and send their golden smiles
Down DER the surging storms;
Green banks and val's, the Whispering grow
And flowers of woman's heller love,
Aud childhood 5 lily forms;
A falling eye, sweet young face,
y soit tone in 4 shady place,
Girt by II jasmine wall;
The trace oi quiet Sabbath hours
ALI, royal gems, dear painted flowers,
Trlmpcd ana withrr'u all!
Thanks for the glory Of the rose,
Tie mHntic Of the mountain SHOWS;
i hanks Ter the tyraut'S hrAZrn blows,
And for the .corucr's scurn.
Thanks! when til" good and lovely bow
In drath--as for the Blessed Brow
That wore the Crown Of Thorn!
In the lasi'd slaves imp tiled groan's,
In rooms where the starv d orphan means,
In the heart S crushing stone
Yea. in the mighty sobs that knoll
The breaking Of the Golden Bowl,
GrNNt G. nl ThN Win is lnnn