The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1876-08-03


preston, and such easy mastery Of rythm. Tn
lines rise, and sink, and sway, with the move
ment Of the Flood OF Years, as ii reveals itsel
| to the poets eye, and they breathe forth thos
| grave, lofty and haunting harmonies whicl
have made "Thanatopsis" immortal. 1t is In
/ teresting to find Bryant, now so near the usua
limit of life returning to the first strains Of hi
youth-not repeating a phrase or a cadence
| but adding a second voice, of richer compass
and more assured power. We congratulate tn
editors and publishers Of Scribner's Monthly
on having secured such a rare and memorable
gift for their great circle Of readers.l
THE FLOOD OF YEARS.
ny WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
A Mighty Hand, from an exhaustless urn,
Pours forth the neYer-ending Flood OF Years
Rear al before theml on the foremost edge
And there alone, is Life; the Present there
Tosses and foams and fills the air with roar
OF mingled noises. There 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 spade-are
And busy artisan beside his bench.
And pallid student with his written roll.
moment on the mounting billow seen
The flood sweeps over them and they are gone.
There groups OF revelers' whose brows are
With roses ride the topmost swell awhile,
Ana as IneN raise their moving cups 10 tOucn
The clinking brim TO brim are whfrled beneath
The waves and disappear. ! hear the jar
Ofbeaten drums, and thunders that break forth
From cannon, where the advancing billow
Ny to the sight long files Of armed men,
That hurry to the charge through flame and
The torrent bears them under, whelmed aud
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
a "a aHsuwNTW
The felon's with cropped ear and branded
cheek.
Bearers IS and a bier and @ogrners s By tSe bed
Ofone who dies men gather sorrowing,
And And women weep aloud the % Hood rolls on;
Borne under. Hark to that shrih sudden
The cry OF an applauding multitude
wields
The living mass, as II he were its soul,
The waters choke the shout and ali is still.
Lo, next, a kneeling crowd and one Who spreads
The hands in prayer; the engulnng wave o'er-
And swallows them and him. A sculptor
wields
To beauty; at his EASEL eager-eyed.
A painter stands, and sunshine, at his touch.
Gathers upon the canvas, and life glows;
Murmurs his sounding lines. Awhile they
ride
Strikes them and filings them under while their
Are yet unfinished. See a mother smile
On her young babe that smiles to her again
The torrent wrests 1t from her arms; she
And weeps, and midst her tears is carried
A beam like that OF moonlight turns the spray
To glistening pearls two lovers, hand in hand,
Rise on the biilowy swell and fondly look
Into each others eyes. The rushing flood
Filings them apart the youth goes down; the
With hands outstretched in vain and stream
ing eyes,
An aged man succeeds; his bending form
Sinks slowly; mlngling with the sullen stream
Clean the white locks and then are seen no
Lo, wider grows the stream; a sea-lilxe flood
Saps earth's walled cities; massive palaces
Crumble before It fortresses and towers
in the swift waters; populous realms
swept by the torrent, see their ancient tribes
Stihed and never to be uttered more.
pause and turn my eyes, and. looking back,
Where that tumultuous flood has passed, see
The silent Ocean of the Past, waste
OF waters weltering over graves, its shores
strewn with the wreck Of fleets, where mast
Drop away piecemeal; -battlemented walls
Frown idly, green with moss, and temples
forsaken by the worshippers.
There lie memorial stones, whence time has
The craven legends, thrones Of kings o'erturned,
The broken altars OF forgotten gods,
Foundations Of old cities and long streets
Upon the desolate pavements. behold
Dim glimmerings OF lost jewels far within
The sleeping waters, diamonds, sardonyx,
Ruby and topaz, pearl and chrysolite,
Once glittering at the banquet on fair brows
That long ago are dust, and all around,
strewn on the waters OF that silent sea,
Are whitening bridal wreaths, and glossy locks
Shorn from fair brows, by loving hands, and
with fond words ofIove
And vows of friendship-and fair pages flung
Fresh from the printers engine. There they lie
moment, and then sink away from sight
look, and the quick tears are in my eyes,
For behold, in every one of these,
blighted hope, a separate history
OF human sorrow, telling of dear ties
broken, dreams Of happiness
Dissolved in air, and happy days, too brief,
That sorrowfully ended, and think
How painfully must the poor heart have beat
In bosoms without number, as the blow
Was struck that slew their hope or broke their
Sadly turn, and look before, where yet
The Flood must pass, and behold mist
Where swarm dissolvIng forms, the brood OF
Divineiy fair, that rest on banks Of flowers,
or wander among rainbows; fading soon
And reappesring happily giving % q place
Molds from the idle air; where serpents lift
The head to strike, and skeletons stretch forth
The bony arm in menace: Further on
Long, low and distant, where the Life that Is
Touches the Life TO Come. The Flood of Years
That dismal barrier. What is there beyond9
Hear what the wise and good have said. Be-
yond
That belt Of darkness still the years roll on
More gently, but with not less mighty sweep.
They gather up again and softly bear
All the sweet lives that late were overwhelmed
And lost to sight-all that in them was good,
Noble, and truly great and worthy OF love
The lives of infants and ingenious youths,
Sages aud sanity women who have made
Their households happy-all are raised and
borne
BY that great current In its onward sweep,
Wandering and rippling with caressing waves
Around green Islands, fragrant with the breath
OF flowers that never wither. So they pass,
From stage to stage along the shining course
or that fair river broadening like a sea,
AS its smooth eddies curl along their way,
They bring old friends together; hands are
clasped
In 10Y unspeakable the mothers arms
Again are folded round the child she loved
And lost Old sorrows are forgotten now,
Or but remembered TO make sweet the hour
That overpays them; wounded hearts that
bled
Or broke are healed forever. In the room
OF this grief-shadowed Present there shall be
A Present in whose reign no grief shall gnaw
The heart, and never shall tendar tie
Be broken-in whose reign the eternal Change
That waits on growth and action shall proceed
With everlasting concord, hand in hand
GENERAL FUTILE, OF IOWA.