Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1877-08-17

Their deep voiced chantings and for him
Sweet flower bells pealed in forests dim.
From earth and sea and sky he caught
The spell Of their dvnest thought,
while yet II blossOmrd fresh and new
As Eden's rose buds wet It'll dew,
Oh to have lived when earth was young,
With all its melodies unsung!
The dome Of Heaven bent nearer then
When gods and angels talked with men
When song itself vas newly born.
The Incarnation Of the Morn
But now, alas. all thought is old
All life is but a story told.
And pOet-tongurs are manifold;
And he is bold who tries TO wake,
Even for God or country s sake,
In voice or pen, or lutte, or Tyre,
Sparks OIL the cd Promethoan ire
III.
And veto Earth, thank God tho soul Of song
In rs immortal as the eternal stars
o, trembling heart take courage anu be strong
IIark to voice from yonder crystal bars
IBID the roses blow last June,
DO the stars still rise and setl
And over the crests of the mountains
Are the light clouds floating yeti
Do the rivers run to the sea
With the deep rvsistless How,
d. the little birds sing North and South
AS the seasons come and 90
Arc the hills ms fair as Of old
Are the skies as blue and far?
Have you lost the pOmp OF the -unset
Or tho light OF the evening star
has the glory EOuo lTuul
Do the wild winds wall no more
Is there now no thunder OF pillows
Beating the storm-lashed shore
Is Love forgotten story
l. Passion TESTERS theme
Has Nalor thrown down its armor
l. Honor an idle dream
l. there no pure trust in woman,
No conquering faith in Cod
Are there no feet strong to follow
In the paths the martyrs trod,
Did YOU find no hero graves
When your vlolets hloOmed last May
Prouder than those of Marathon,
or old PlaiR's day,
When your red and white and blue
On the free winds fluttered out,
We're there no strong hearts and voices
To receive it with a shout
Oh, let the earth grow old!
And the burning stars grow cold
AMI, II you will, declare mans story told
Yet. pure a. faith is pure,
And sure death is sure,
As long as love shall live, shall song eniurei'
When one by one the stately, silent years
Glide like pale ghosts hey ond our yearning
sight,
vainiy we stretch our arm to stay their flight,
20 soon, so swift, they pass to endless night
We hardly learn to name them,
To praise them, OF to blame them,
To know their shadowy faces.
Ere We see their empty places
Only once the glad spring greets them;
Only once fair summer meets them;
Only once the autumn glory
Tells for them its mystic story;
Only once the winter hOaryi
Weaves for them its robes OF light
Years leave their work half done; like men, alas
With sheayes ungathered to their graves they
pass,
And are forgotten. What they strive to do
Lives for while in memory of q few;
Then over all Oblvon's waters flow
The years are buried in the Long Ago
But when Century dies, what room Is there FOL
tearsl
Rather in solemn exaltation let Ut come,
With roll OF drums,
Not muflled as in woe)
With blare Of bugles, and the LIQUID flow
Of silver clarions, and the long appeal
OF the clear trumpets ringing peal on peal,
With clash of bells, and hosts and proud array
To pay meet homage to its burial day.
For its proud work is done. Its name is writ
Where all the ages that come after 1t
shall read the eternal letters. blazoned high
On the blue dome of the impartial sky.
What ruthless fate can darken its renOwn,
Or dim the lustre OF its starry crownl
On mountain peaks OF Time each Century stand
alone;
And each, Tor glory or for shame. hath reapc,
what II hath sown.