The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1865-01-06
THE CLOSING YEAR.
BIT a. d. PaxNTICa.

It's midnight's holy hour and silence now
Is brOOding, like q entie spirit, DER -|f.i
The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds
The BELLS deep tones are swelling; IT'S the knell
OF the departed year. No funeral train L..
Is sweeping past yet on the stream and wood,
Like pale, spotless shroud: the air is stirred,
As by mourner's Sigh and, on yOn cloud, --
That floats so still and placdy through heaven,
The spirits OF the Seasons seem to stand Gform,
And Winter, with his aged locks, and breathe
In mournful cadences, that come abroad
Like the far wind -harp's wild, touching vail.
A melancholy dirge DER the dead year,
Gone from the earth forever. ,-.,g-.Er e..
For memory and for tears. Within the deep
Still chambers Of The healt spectre dim, ~"
Whose tones are like the wizard voice of Time
Heard from the tomb Of ages, points its cold
And solemn finger to the beautiful -a. = .-
And holy visions, that have passed away,
And left NO shadow of their lovellness . ~.
On the dead waste Of life. That spectre lifts
The cofin-lM Of Hope and JOY and Love,
And bending mournfully above the pale, blowers
Sweet forms that slumber therf, scatters dead
Ger what has passed to nothingness. ,
Has gone, and with 1t many glorious throng
Of happy dreams. Its mark is on each brow,
Its shadow, In each heart In it's swift course
y
And they are not. 1t laid its pallid hand a,.
Upon the strong man: and the naughty form
Is fallen. and the flashing eye is dim. -
1t trod the hall of revery, where thronged
The bright and joyous; and the fearful wall
OF stricken ones Is heard, where crst the song
And reckless shout resounded. 1t passed DER
The batleplain. where sword, and spear and shield
Flashed in the light of mid day; and the strength
Green from the soil of carnage, waves above =,
The crushed and Wondering skeleton It came,
And faded like wreath of mist at eve;
Yet ere it melted in the viewless air,
1t heralded its millions to their home, go.
In the dim land of dreams
Remorseless Time!
Fierce spirit Of the glass and scythe! what power
Can stay him In his silent course, or melt
His iron heart to pity! On, etill on,
He presses, and forever. The proud bird.
The condor of the Andes that can soar
Through heavens unfathemahle depths, or brave
The fury of the northern hurricane,
And bathe his plumage in the thunders home
Furls his broad wing at night-fal, and sinks down
To rest upon bis mountain crag; bat Time
Knows not the weight of sleep or WEAKNESS,
And Nights deep darkness has no chain to bind
His rushing piBiOn.
Revolutions sweep
Ger EARTH like troubled visions DER the breast
Of dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink
Like bubbles on the water: fiery isles
Spring blazing from the ocean, and 90 back
To their mysterious caverns mountains rear
To heaven their bold and blackened cliffs and bow
Their tall heads to the plain; and empires rsa
Gathering the strength Of hoary centuries
And rush down. like the Alpine avalanche
Startling the nations and the very stars,
Yon bright and glorious b azonry Of Ged.
Glitter awhile Ia their eternal depths
And, like the Plead loveliest Of their train,
Shoot from their glorious spheres and pass away
To darkle in. he trackless void yet Time,
Time, the tOmb-buider, holds bis fierce career.
Dark, stern, alpi less and pauses not
Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his path.
To sit and muse, like other c0DQuerors.
Upon the fearful ruin he hath wrought.