The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1873-01-17
QOehp.
From the Pittsburg Dispatch.
THE OLD AND THE NEW.
BE HORACE B. DURANr.

| Ga6 OlzO ANIL Il6 NEW
BX HORACE B. DURANr.
; Another gasp of falling time is gone;
Another throb of ebbing life IS o'erl
u Approach the awful couch, and draw aside
The still and solemn drapery Behold
i Another year is deadl
'Tis thus the years
Have died, and left their epitaphs upon
The heavy walls of time; yet none like this,
Have passed across the world, and none shall be
Adiudged more mighty, in those silent halls,
That open on eternity.
All, yeari
Departing thus, amid the stiffness of
The midnight hour: what were the hopes, that lei
Thy fainting steps into that unseen world,
Beyond the pale of earthl What gleam of hope
And consolation, dost thou leave to cheer
The lonely hearts Of all the ivingl What
Prophetic visions have been opened on
Thydim and fading sight, of future years, ,'.i
To be, when thon art gone?
This hour,
We seem to stand between the living
And the dead; within our left hand, lies the cold
While to our right, in all the warmth of life,
And joy, and hope, the youthful New Year elings,
Until, at length, its jOyousness hath won
Our hearts from soTow: Thus it is, that life,
Immortal, springs from the ruins Of decay;
Tis thus, that we, from day to day, on earth,
Forget the past; 'tis thus be bury all
Our dead-e'en as we yield the perished year
Unto its winding sheet of snow; and thus
It is, the future steals upon US; till
From LIES last stage, we backward turn our gaze,
Across lonely waste Of graves, and with
A sigh for all that we have loved and lost,
Do snap its weary ehaini
Like thee, Old Year,
OUTLYING oft each tender tie that twined
About our earlier days, we, too, grow old
And lonely-strangers to a land and race
That know US not: Like unto thine, the frosts
And SHOWS Of our bleak winter gather Ger
Us and around us; while the loves. and joys,
And pleasures we have known, float back
Upon the fading memory, like some
Sad, broken strain of distant melody,
At evening heard, aross the bosom of
A tranquil misty tide:
o, are not all
Those trilling, holy memories, that rush
Across the soul upon the very verge
OF time, but blessed glimpses of that life,
That waits to crown us with undying youthi
Will not the good, the loved, the beautiful,
Be known again, within the happy realm.
Of some eternal futurel Is not that
Same future, but reflex Of
Dur past, which though obscured amid the gloom
Of earth, will glow on our unclouded sight,
Beneath the master hand of death, in bright
And fsultless splendOr!
Thus, the Old Year dies;
And with its latest breath, breathes life into
The New. "There sno DEATH" where being seems |
To end, new energies begin to live;
Death is but change-thevery threshold of
Renewed existence.
Happy New Year, HAIL
Thou earliest blossom on tie tomb of time;
thou spirit resurrected from the grave
II each departing year,-aince rolling time
'egsn its fight. Hail!-to this world of ours,
III sinless from the icy arms of death,
III spotless as thy infant robe of snow,
'hou CONTEST as a pure, unsulhed page
'utspread beneath the piteous eye of the
recording Angel. Solemn, awful thought
What deeds shall there be written-sealed to wait
heir judgment, when the books of an the years
hall finally be opened, and the word
roclsimed-"ITnle IS, time lcaS, Gah time
hall be no 5nOre!''
Oh, Happy New Yearl Blessed boonl
here still is fiDte-time to return from all
ur straying, shining years, and make our peace
With Heaven; time to renew our VOWS unto
ourselves and others to be true, time for
he deeds of love and charity unto
ur fellows; time to lay our pride and strife
nd foIlieS by; time to forgive and be
Orgiven. Who shall sag his at thy close,
hou joyous, hopeful New Yearl
ALLEGHENY CITY, DecembersO 80, 1872.