St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1877-08-24

NO lofty paean swelling loud and clear,
That Virgil did not know,
Or Dante, wandering slow
In mystic frances did not pause to hear
When gods from high Olympus came
To touch old HOmers lips with fame
The morning stars together sung
To teach their raptures to his tongue
For him the lonely ocean moaned
For him the mighty winds intOned
Their deep-voiced chantings and for him
Sweet howerbells pealed in forests dim.
From earth and sea and sky he caught
The spell of their divinest thought
While yet it blOssomed fresh and new
As Eden's rosebuds wet with dew!
Oh to have lived when earth young,
With all its melodies unsungi
The dome of Heaven bent nearer then
When gods and angels talked with men-
When song itself was newly born,
The Incarnation of the Morn!
But now, alas all thought is old,
All life is but story told
And pOettOngues manifold;
And he is bold who tries to wake,
Even for God or country's sake,
In voice, pen or Lutte or Tyre,
Sparks of the old Promethean fire
And veto Earth, thank God the soul of song
Is as immortal the eternal starsl
o, trembling heart take courage and be strong
Hark! to a voice from yonder crystal bars:-
Did the roses blow last June9
Do the stars still rise and seti
And over the crests of the mountains
Are the light clouds floating yet
Do the rivers run to the
With the deep resistless tlowl
Do the little birds sing North and South
AS the seasons come and goi
Are the hills as fair of old ?
Are the skies as blue and fair
Have you lost the pomp of the sunset,
Or the light of the evening star
Has the glory gone from the morning
Do the wild winds wall no mOrel
Is there now no thunder of pillows
Beating the storm-lashed shorei
Is Love a forgotten story?
Is Passion TESTERS themei
Has Valor thrown down it's armOrl
Is Honor an idle dream9
Is there pure trust in womanl
No conquering faith in God
Are there no feet strong to follow
In the paths the martyrs trod
Did you find no hero graves
When your violets bloomed last May
Prouder than those of Marathon
Or old Plates day2
When your red and white and blue
On the free winds fiuttered out,
Were there strong hearts and voices
To receive it with a shout
| Oh let the earth grow old
And the burning stars grow cold!
And, if you will, declare mans story told!
Yet, pure faith is pure,
And sure death is sure,
| AS long as love shall live, shall song endured!
| When one by one the stately, silent years
Glide like pale ghosts beyond our yearning sight
vainly we stretch arm to stay their fight,
| So soon, swift, they pass to endless night!
| We hardly learn to name them,
| To praise them, 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 hOary!
| Weaves for them its robes of light2
Years leave their work half done; like men, alas !!
With sheaves ungathered to their graves they pass
And are forgotten. What they strive to do
| Lives for a while in memory of few;
| Then over all Oblivion's waters flow
| The wears are buried in the Long Ago!
Rut when a Century dies what room is there .fo
| tearsl
Rather in solemn exaltation let us come,
With roll of drums,
Not muffled 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 it's starry crownI
| I'm MAINTAIN peaks of Time each Century stand
| alone;
And each, for glory or for shame hath reaped wha
| it hath sown
But this-the one that gave thee birth
A hundred years ago beauteous mother!
This mighty century had mightier brother
Who from the watching earth
Passed but last year! n-born indeed were they
For what are twelve months to the womb OF time
Pregnant with ages! Hand in hand they climbed
With clear, young eyes uplifted to the stars
With great, strong souls that never stopped fo
bars,
Through storm and darkness up to glorious day!
Each knew the others need; each in his breast
The subtle tie of closest kin confessed;
Counted the others honor as his own;
! Nor feared to sit upon a separate throne;
Nor loved each other less when-wondrous fate :
: One gave a Nation life, and one a State
Oh rude the cradle in which each was rocked,
The infant Nation and the infant States
Rough nurses were the Centuries that mocked
At mother kisses and tor mother-arms
Gave their young nurslings sudden harsh alarms
, Quick blows and stern rebuffs They bade the
a wait,
Often in cold and hunger, while the feast
Was spread for others, and, though last not least
Gave them sharp swords for playthings, and Il
din
of actual battle for the mimic strife
J, That childhood glories inl
Yet not the lessthey loved them Spartans the.
IL Who could not rear a weak, effeminate brood
Better the forests awful solitude,