Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1876-02-10
POETRY,
THE EXPIRING YEAR.
90 nj /. MORSE.

ny 4. MORSE.
To the fair mind the closing hours Of dav
Meier pass without a thorough winnowing of
The seeds through which their mystic smazea
silt.& AFs,s-s' ~ IS ~ ~ :. n - 5
Much less the last sad hours of this old year.
IT'S not that meditation drear and sad,
Should always crowd upon The shrinking
And thus embitter all the DAYS Of life:
IRIS not that so.called dread eternity
Forever present to the mind should be
Or thatthe singing birds of hope should fly,
Scared ~ the phantomS fancy conjures up.
Man would lie false TO nature and himself
TO God, IS well--should he thus murder time,
~ ~ constant ID, mt dreaming rel. on life to be:
At this sweet hour when joy more welcome
When we do wish the winter rose to bloom
When we do wish the sun a brighter beam.
Those hallow'd names--those names OF friends
once dear, = p
espiteourselves, upon our me,n'ries crowd.
IT'S now that We remember those who late
t1ave passed away-a husband or q wife
A son, or daughter, or prattling child
sister or brother once SO DEAR
Our thoughts so back to that remembered
In early life, when we the sports began,
Or, haPly pressed with care or toll, we joined
Lie Is burdens to relieve; or hand in hand
Mid winters blasts and SHOWS severe, we
braved
It all, to gain the goal Of our desires
The sehool-house Oh the hill we used to
IT'S now that we remember those we knew,
With many more who OH life's journey sped,
Before our time-lite's journey to that land
Immortal, where We all must soon repair.
Who hath not lost triends-a friend most
And who SO base his virtues to forget?
These are the lnem'ries then that weigh the
heart,
As We the expiring hours Of this brief year
Now count; and as We write, at close Of day,
The strange, sad news comes clicking DER the
wires
Which tells us Of his unexpected death
That he whose youthful voice oft cast a smile,
Or oft in sorrow, when in ripper years,
Breathed the soft whisp'rings Of hope OF
Is gone-gone to that rest which waits US all.
An, yes!I;the messenger arrives, nor yet
The lightly, halt.sealed package may con-
With wi, what sad news the missive now is
Again we read those lines, sand is it thus?
A brother! Yes, q brother once so dear,
AAsstu SOIlc " HIS AOnS rest UeyOuu tue IVuU'
Was it an angel then that spoke to us
The solemn sound We even seem to feel,
And now if this sad sound We heard Alright,
And rightly sc interpret that sweet voice,
1t comes to US from yonder spheres, where Oft
Before in that sweet spot-in that bright land.
That happy land that knows no parting hour
No closing day, and no expiring year
That land OF beauty and OF perfect bliss,
Hath gone seraph there tor aye to rest.
In that bright train do we behold host
Who've gone before. Then wherefore sadness
now?-
The final hour of this expiring yearY
But, ali tits pleasant sometimes cen to weep,
And sorrow often finds relief in tears
And must We then un5ldden grief restraint
1t cannot lie. Let other hearts rejoice
Let other tongues their joyous tidings tell;
Their cup Of Joy may even overflow,
And yet tits fitting some should often weep
That those whose pathways are beset with
thOrns,
And seldom yet have they with flowers been
strewn,
Should thus retiect-should thus these scenes
review,
That they may ripper grow in wisdoln's ways,
AS each retiring day or year brings them
A days, or years march nearer to the end
Of LIES short Journey here ON earth below,
And nearer, hence, to that bright Heaven
above.
River Falls, Wis, Dec. 81, 1876.