The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1873-12-28
saorn,ng star and Catholic Messenger.
THE CLOSING YEAR.
BY GEORGE d. rRENTrCE.

11e midnfghts holy hour-hno siieAoo nv"
Ii brooding, like q gentle spirit oof
Tho stiu and pulseless world. Hark on tho winds
The bells deep tones swelingi Ills the knen
OF the departed year. No funeral train
In awee ping past; yet on the stream and wood
with melancholy light the moonbeams rest,
Like q pale, spotless shroud; the air Is stirred
As by q mourner's sigh, and Son cloud
That floats 70 siiIl and placldly through heaven
The spirits of the season seem to stand
Young Spring. bright Summer, Autumn solemn,
And Winter with HIS aged locks, and breathe
In molrnfui cadences. that como abroad
Like the fair wind.harps wild and touching wall,
A melancholy dirge DOR tho dead year,
Gone from the earth forever. 'Tis q time
For memory and for tears. Within the deep.
Stin chambers of the heart spoctre dim,
Whose tones are like the W gard voice Of Time,
Heard from tho tomb OF ages. points Its cold
And solemn finger to the beautiful
And holy visiens that have passed away
And left no shadow of thcr loneliness
On the dead waste of life. The spectre lifts
Tho coffin I'D of hope and joy. and love.
And bending mournfully above the PALE
Sweet forms that there dead howors
Der what has passed to nothingneas The year
Has gone, and with 1t many glorious throng
or happy dreams. It's mark is on each brow.
Its shadow on each heart. In its swift oourso
It waved it's sceptro DER the beautiful,
And they not. 1t laid its pallid hand
Is fallen. and tho flashing eye 10 dim
It trod tho haIIof Ieveiry, where thronged
Tho bright and joyous, and the fearful wall
or strichen ones Is heard whore erst the song
And reckless shout resounded It passed Ger
The battle plain where sword and spear. and sheld
Flashed in the light Of mid .dAy-and the strength
or serred hosts is shivered and the grass,
Green from the soil Of carnage waves above
The crushed and Wondering skeleton. 1t came
And faded like a wreath of mist at evei
Yet, ere it melted In tho viewless air.
It heralded Its millions to their home
In the dim land OF dreams. Remorseless Time
Fierce spirit of the glass and soy ths-what power
Can stay hn IN his silent course. or melt
His iron heart to pityf On, atili on,
He presses, and forever. That proud bird.
The condor of the Andes. that soars
Through heaven's unbelievable depths, or braves
The fury OF tho Northern hurricane.
And bathes his plumage in the thunder's home,
EuFls his broad wnga at niRhtfsll, and sinks down
To rest upon his mountain crag,-but Time
Knows not the weight Of sleep or wsariness,
And nights deep darkness has no chain to bind
His rushing pinions Revolutions sweep
Der earth like troubled visions Ger the breast
or dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink .
Like bubbles on the water fiery isles
Spring blazing from tho ocean, and 60 back
To their mysterious caverns; mountains rear
TobeeHen their bald and blackened cliffs and bow
Their tail heads to the plain new empires rise,
Gathering the strength of hoary centuries,
And rush down like the mighty avalanche,
Startling tho nations and tho worry atars,
Yon bright and burning bazonry Of God,
Glitter awhile in their eternal depths,
And, like the Pleiad loveiest of their train.
Shoot from their glorious spheres, aud pass away,
To darkle In the traokless void;-yet Time
Time tho tomb buitder-holds his ferce career,
Dark stern, all pitiless, and pauses not.