The Idaho world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1864-1918, 1864-12-31
THE CLOS NC YEAR.

[we are indebted Charles Walker ESQ., for acopy q
the following impressive poem by Geo D PrenticOl
sTis midnght's holy hour, and silence now Iworld
is brooding like gentle spirit DER the still and puseiesS
Hark ON the winds the bells deep tones swelling
Ills the knell of the departed year. lwood
No funeral train is sweeping past yet On the stream and
With melancholy light the mocnDeas rest
Like pale spotlesS shroud.
The air is stirred rs by mourner's sigh,
And on Won cloud that floats SO still
And placidly through heaven,
The spirits Of the seasons seem to stand
Young Spring. bright Summer, Autumn's solemn torms
And Winter with his hoary locks,
Breathed in nournfu cadence that carols abroad
Like the far windharps wild and touching wall,
A melancholy dirge DER the departed year.
STIs time for memory and for tears.
Within the Deep still chambers of the heart, time.
specter dim whose tones like the wizard voice OF
Heard from the tomb Of ages IS
Points his cold and solemn finger
To the beautiful and holy visions that have passed away
And left no shadow Of their oyeliness
On the dead waste of life.
That gpecter lifts the coffin lid OF hope 0ndjoy aad love-
And bending mournfnlly shove K
The pail, sweet forms that slumber there, lngneSs
dead flowers DER that which has passed to moth
The year has gone and with 1t
Many a glorious throng of happy dreams.
The mark is on each brOw-its shadow in each heart
In its swift course, it waved its scepter
Der the beautiful-and they are not.
1t laid it's pallied head on the strong man,
And the naughty form has fallen,
The flashing eve Is dim 1t trod the hall OF revelry,
Where thronged the bright and joyous,
And the fearful vail of stricken ones is heard,
Where erst the song and reckless shout resounded.
Itpassed DER the battle plain where the sword andppear
And shield flashed in the light of midday,
And strength Of SCARED hosts is shiYered;
And the grass green from the soil of carnage,
Waves above the crushed and mouldering skeleton.
It came and faded like a wreath of mist at eve
Yet ere II melted into viewless air,
1t hurled its millions to their home
In the dim land of dreams Relnorseless Time!
Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe;
What power can stay him in his silent COURSE;
Or melt his iron heart to pityi
On, still on he presses, and forever
The proud bird, the condor Of tho Andes,
That can soar through heavens unath6mable depths,
Can:braye the fury-0f the Northernhurrieans
And,bathe his pHfaage in the thunder'S home;
Yet he furls his broad wings at nightfall
And sinks down to rest upon his mountain crags
But Time knows not the weight of sleep or weariness
Nights deep darkness has no claim to find
His rustling piniOns Revolutions sweep
Ger earth like troubled visions DER
The dreaming breast of sorrowS
Cities rise and fall like bubbles on the waters
Fiery isles spring blazing from the ocean,
And go back to their mysterious cayerns;
Mountains rear their tall and backened cliffs to heaven
And bow their tail heads to the plain;
New empires rise and gather strength
OF hoary centuries, and rush down
Like the Alpine avalanche, startling the nations;
And even yon stars, the bright, burning =.
Blazonry of God, filter awhile
In their enternal depths, and, like pleiades,
The loveiest Of their train
Shoot from their glorious sphere, and pass away
To darkle in the trackless void.
But T'mei Time the tomb-builder,
Holds his fierce career
Dark stern, all-pitiless he pauses not
Amid the mighty wreck that strews his path,
To sit and muse as other conquerors,
Upon the fearful scene he had wrought