Knoxville weekly chronicle. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1870-1875, 1873-01-01

Again our thoughts should kindly turn,
From where our cheerful home-fres burn,
To those whose garments thin and bare,
But lily fend the wintry air
The suffering poor let all remember,
Mid nippng winds of bleak December
And while in gladstone mirth we're meeting,
The CHRONICLE sends hearty greeting,
To all its friends who through the year
Have held its daily visits dear,
And bids them glance moment back,
Over the swift worlds busy track,
To scan its course, by no means SLOW,
Since Christmas, just one year ago
The Tidal Wave" has swept our land,
But in direction quite alarming,
To those to whom, few months since,
That phrase appeared so very charming,
Instead of washing from their seats
Those whom the nation loved to honor
SWamping Columbia meath its surf,
And heaping all its sands upon her,
That wave took quite another course,
And Liberals" now sigh and SILVER,
Mid sympathizng Straight-Out" friends,
Far up that dreOry stream, Salt River.
GRANT, who, when wars dread shadow came,
And wrapped the land in blood and fame,
Led on the patriot heroes brave,
Beneath the flag they died TO save,
Till victory crowned their gallant arms,
And Peace, with all her gentler charms,
Mid shouting millions exultation,
Returned to bless our ransomed nation.
GRANT who, when Peace with gentler sway,
Swept Wars dire footprints half away;
Called by grateful nations voice,
an war and peace her foremost choice
Guided the Ship of State 50 well
Through those four years whose records tell
Of peaceful triumphs wisely won
Not many words, bat actions done,
That yet shall live to deck his name
With well earned need of civic fame;
Mid peaceful labors amply won,
For duties well and bravely done;
GRANT his the name the people voice
Proclaimed again their foremost choice,
TO guide in calm and peaceful hour
The Great Republic giant power.
Old Boston's brave, historic town,
OF ancient fame and high renown,
Close meath the shade of Bunker's Hill,
Where hallowed memories linger still,
OF dim old days when England's hand
Still held the sceptre DER our land,
Ere Bunker Hill and Lexington
Told of that fearful strife begun,
Which waged so long, till Yorktown's height
Saw justice conquer in the fight,
And fair Columbia's victsr hand
Plant stars and stripes upon our strand
This city of the old Bay State,
In shivering dread has crouched of late,
To feel the fre-fend's awful breath
Threaten disaster, loss and death.
Restrained the flames, held back the brand;
Mid sheeting flame and topping wall,
The old South Church and Faneuil Hall
Still stood untouched when ruin spread
Like breath of fury dark and dread.
a great name too has passed away.
Scarce had the long and wearying fray
Of party strife its struggles ended,
And all its transient force expended,
When one, gray old man, whose life
showed MANY q year of manly strife
In strongly battling for the right,
Needless the anguish of the fight.
His mind overwelghed with toll and care,
Burden too great for strength to bear,
Found for his worn and weary breast
The grave deep, calm, eternal rest.
Forgot the past, the rancorous strife,
The bitter feuds he knew III life,
All faults forgiven freely,
Late friend and foe, in tears and gloom,
Gathered around the honored tomb
Where rested HORACE GREELEY
Soon pealing bells, full sweet and clear,
VIII welcome in the coming year;
Its duties face us, let US prove
We're worthy of the land we love.
God gives US plenty, strength and peace;
Let all good will and love increase;
And Joined like brothers, hand in hand,
Be all within our favored land.
Grave duties, weighty may We see
Here III our loved tennessee;
To drag her wealth TO upper air
Now hid meath rugged mountains hoary,
To lay her mighty treasures bare,
And deck her brow with wreath of glory
To delve her treasures from the mine,
Bid many blazing furnace shine,
And bring stout hearts and willing hands
Ofindustry from other lands,
To help her wondrous wealth disclose,
Till ali shall blossom as the rose.
To bid our hills and valleys DER
The school-hous ope its welcome door,
Till every child within our State
May reach that boon-Free Education
That cheap defence, that priceless wealth,
That bulwark strong of every nation.
But come, haven't time to linger
Don't stop to read. but slip your finger
Down in your pocket, catch your purse,
And ere you read another verse
Show that you have not quite forgot
The weather, wet, dry cold and hot,
The mud the snow the storm, the sleet,
Through which the weary Carrier feet
Have trudged to bring you, day by day,
Your paper while you snoring lay
To make your Christmas really pleasant,
1 4 Dor