Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-08-04
Miscellany.
The Flood Of Years.
DY WILLIAM CULLEN DRrAST.

A mighty Hand, from an e1hAustless urn,
Pours forth the never-ending Flood Of Years
Among the nations. How the rushing waves
Bear all before themi On their foremost edge,
And there alone, is Life; the Present there
Tastes and foams and flls the air with roar
OF mingled noises. They are they who toll,
And they who strive, and they who feast, and they
Who hurry to and fro. The sturdy hind
| woodmAn and deliver with the spado-are thore,
And busy artisan behind his bench,
| And pad student with his written roll.
| A moment on the mounting billow SEEN
The food sweeps over them, and they gone.
There groups of jewellers, whose brows arc twined
| With roses ride the topmost swell awhile,
And as they raise their flowing cups TO touch
| The clinking brim to brim, are whrled beneath
The waves, and disappear. hear the jar
| or beaten drums, and thunders that break forth
From cannon, where the advancing billow sends
Up to the sight long files Of armed men,
That hurry to the charge through fame and smoke.
| The torrent bears them under, whelmed and hid,
Slayer and slain, In heaps Of bloody foam.
Down go the steed and rider; the plumed chief
| Sinks with his followers; the head that wears
| The imperial diadem goes down beside
| The felon's with cropped ear and branded cheek.
funeral train-the torrent sweeps away
| or enc who dies men gather sorrowing,
And women weep aloud; the food rolls on;
The vail is sti1ed and the sobbing group
Borne under Hark to that shrill, sudden shout
The cry Of an applauding multitude
| Swayed by some loud-tonRued orator who wieds
| The living mass, as II he were it's soul.
The waters choke the shout, and all is still
Lo, next, kneeing crowd, and one who spreads
The hands in prayer; the ingulhng wave o'ertakes
And swallows them and him. sculptor wieds
The chisel and the strickened marble grows
To beauty; at his easel, eager-eyed,
painter stands, and sunshine, at his touch,
Gathers upon the canvas, and life CLOVIS;
poet, as he PAGES to and fro,
Murmurs his sounding lines. Awhile they ride
The advancing billow, till its tossing crest
Strikes them and Hngs them under while their tasks
Are yet unfinished. See mother smile
on her young babe that smiles to her again
The torrent wrests it from her arms; she shrieks,
And weeps, and midst her tears is carried down.
beam like that Of moonlight turns the spray
To glistening pearls; two lovers, hand in hand,
Rise on the billowy SWELL and fondy look
Into each others eyes. The rushing food
Filings them apart; the youth goes down; the maid,
With hands outsretched in vain, and streaming eyes
Waits for the next high wave to follow him.
An aged man succeeds his bending form
Sinks slowly; mngling with the sulleD stream
CLEAN the white locks. and then arc soon no rroro
Lo, wider grows the stream; a sea-like hcod
SapG earths walled cities; massive palaces
Crumble before it; fortresses and towers
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o'erw written,-haply with fond words of love
And VOWS of friendship, fair pages flung
Ere sh from the printers engine. There they lie
IooL 'nJ The oniot ~. ,..rs ~ I'm ~ ,'sn"
ra.T%a,.,u .nu 'ne quleA eAls are IN my eyes
A bl,gbtoI hone. n sen,r,,s h,stOrv
OF human sorrow. telling of dear ties
Suddenly broken, dreams of happiness
Dissolved in air, and happy days, too brief,
That sorrowfully ended, and think