Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1871-02-05
From the Ladies' Pearl
TIME-THE OLD YEAR AND THE
H NEW. a---

Timei
| Who hath numbered thy cycles mysterious.
| Ageless, unmarked and profound? Thy birth.
1 place
whereY and where began thine infant wandr-
| 1ngs?
When, drst from out eciipsing Chaos, so
| Dark the faintest spark had been solar
| Sun, and SO still the heartbeat Of a newborn
| Babe had made an universal jar, God n p
| Said in tones eternal, ''Let there be Light"
| Didst thou whet thy Scythe, to make Of Ages
| Long and Centuries vast thy remorseless
Harvest field? Insztiate monster! since thy birth
O. nvulsiVe, hast thou known no rest, nor dost
/, Thou pause to drop one tear that plying
Angels could jewel call, left upon
The ruins thou hast wrought? AS places. thou thy
Finger cold upon each mortal's brow, leaving
There thy own wrinkles tracd, and as closest
Thou the "c1fin lids" Of human hopes, do
None Of Mercy's tender tones touch thy heart
" flint? Or wouldst thou, relentless, cruel
AS thou art, lift thy blighting hand, and from
Their orbits tear the blazing stars themselves
And SOW them round thy track, many
RayleAs things, or bind them on thy hoary
BROW, trophies of thy triumphs?
All! We may not
Invade the Past, reckless men Of to-day,
With questionings vain and vague, to which the
Hollow tombs Of ages give alone their
VoicelesE Answer-Ere from his crimson couch
First leap'd the msrning sun, began the
Unweari'd march of Time; he'd left his track
On banks Of silv'ry Euphrates ere moonbeams
Shone upon her waters, or Nature wrote
In stars her first grand and glorious night.
Though of Eternity but whisper and 9
Breath, his tread One Of ruthless power hath
Been, and is. On the sea and on the land,
ving'd destroyer, he is alike a.
Home. On highest mount ain peaks, in Oceans
Deepest caves, decay" his fnger-mark
Hath writ. CORONADO Kings and rulers purpled
His play things have been, and Sepulchr'd ma
tons
Is but the mirror dim, while Of great mems to mbs
And mighty wrecks behind him left, his own
URsculpturd monument he doth build.
aye! he is a crownless Oonqueror,
Adown whose stream all mortAls active drift,
Orr like idle weeds, lie rotting at bis
Wharvea. With his Old Year, that's dying now
What treasures vast have away been borne from
Us forever what events bis passing
Markd! What hopes, dreams and joys, purpPd
bright
His mornings coming, like his days, lie now
Entombd, returning nevermore! What
Harvest hath the dread keaper made! Great
Laid low, and fun'rals writ in blood! Nations
Throttled, Popes fettered, Kings uncrown'd and
Cippd the wings Of Imperial Esglesi Deep
In eternal centuries hast thou cut
Thy notch, Old Year! Along the ''wide and
Winding Rhine" and Ger the "blue Mosells"
Hath echo'd loud the lannon's boom, as
Battle-smoke obscure the sun tina. Lit the
Land Of Charlemagne. Hath fashd the sword
And hiss d the ball, where howd, freely as from
The press hath fOw'd the native wine, the blood
OF furious Frank On ground, made classic by
His Sires. Gainst E1rOpe's enlblaz md Queen,
Gilt ring on the Sci re where Science bent her
Listening ear, and Art gave up her crown,
Huftling iron hath been pour'd, and round her
w alis hardy TedtOns have their armies coilSd
Like serpent folds, while her eIilsd rulers, like
The pierced eagle stretched upon the plain"
Ana while her anresd laws are made where brave
HaTtel struck down the Saracen.
Thy Dead, Old Year!
Ah the world was left weeping DER thy
Graves He, whose fancy swept on c0ndor's wing
"Above the thunder's home, 4" and poetiz'd the
Very dust, hath himself to dust returnd.
The Soul that PO'sy warmd, as warns the SUI
The sea, hath soar'd beyond the stars with which
1t held commune, and earth, that sparkld
With his wit and blossom'd with his song,
Hath to him given all she could-a tomb.
High-gifted man! no "closing year" can from
His brow letterd laurel tear, nor dim
His light Of journalistic fame, The flaming
Artthat Cadmus gave, exhausted was TO
Write the wild lament, that hash'd across old
Oceans smother'd breast when, in glory, its
Brightest light went out, with summers sun.
Romance and Story drap'd themselves in black,
And all the better lOok'd to mourn him IS
parent: bereaved offspring! none can be
Your step father. Genius droop'd Ger his bier,
Wept Philosophy, and Eioquence grew dumb
As into immortality he stepped,
With "Little Nell" And to crown thy mournfnl
Yictries, On Death! thy dark-winged Angel
Hath fitted past YiFginia's mountains blue
And through Pscifc's golden gatss, and cut
Colossal warriors down. Thy skeleton hand
Hath from judges the spotless ermine torn,
And stilpd the Poets pen. Thou hast pass'd
{ through
Musc's halls and hushd the sweetest notes, and
Twiped the cypress round the Painters easel. At
Thy'cOld touch, high civic wreaths to coiin'd
Clay have turn'd, and eloquent ling been seaId
Forever. Holy men Of God thou hast
Claim d. whose Christ-l1t souls could ssy, "Where's
thy sting!"
These, with thy dead numbered, are Of
Thy trophies part, Old Year
But where are the graves of the heart-hopes the
Old Year hath dug? No epitaph marks them,
Save Griers silent, unlettered language from
Sadly speaking, Many loves, budding the year
Agone, have wlther'd ere they doomed wings Of
bright
Hopes, then to sunny zephyrs spread, have
dzoopd,
Like winter blossoms, DER broken VOWS; high
Ambitions, then vauting to the sky. have
Into Oblivion trembled meath Disdsin's
Icy smile. Hearts, then bounding with blsses
Empty halls have since become, where fit in
Spectral troops the ghosts Of dead Joys These
A part Of the spoila Of Tine, of Death aud
OF the Old Year.
But we'll tread no more among the dead leaves
OF the
Old Year: it's brightes: men 'ries gath'ring, Ike
Fragrance from blossoms witherd, well listen
To sivery bells ringing in the glsd
NKw YEAB! Ring out, sweet bells, in music tones,
clear "a anger dntleLns hlCn enters heaven
born soul Welcome TO thee joyous
New Year Hope springs anew with thy morning
BluLh, and on with tree we'll journey thro the
Bright rounds Of thy seasons. Happy New ear
Along with thee wen go into fOw'ry
Wales Of Spring, thro' Summers golden suns, into
Autumn glide, and pass t. Winter when thou
Leav'st wiser, purer, better: At the
Crystal portals Of yet another glad
New Year. So be 1t with all.
Thus, as from the Old
Year, with its signs and tears, We step into
The New, of bright hope and promise full, so
Let us live that when we with Old Time do
Part, behind leaving all fever dreams, we
Can step into NEW LIFE ETERNAL, WHERE
We MAY BOW TO Con ALONE.