The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1878-01-03

CARRIER Boy.
DEAR FnESDs, to-day, again come with
CIaint With eggs, my kind friends, that
] call
But with wiShes-in Rhyme, and my pray
ers that sunshine
May brighten the New Year OF ALL
If that Lay is not long, or spicy and strong,
wish now to give you the reason:
The Register each week is SO fresh und so
sleek,
1t ncyerleaves me an item to "frcczc on"
Is Democrat born? Does boy take a
horn,
And walking-slip down, and fall fiat?
Why rs pert us kitten-thc thing is out
The Senior-He sees after that
Should marriage take place, then, the
Ribbons and Lace
In next issues icscrlbed-I'll engage;
And should deaths icy finger, for mo-
ment here linger,
Then you smile and you weep over one
page.
\ smile and tear All! how like the old
We thought, then we didn't, we had
1H,iGl,
First our store boy's blazed, then things
became Adw'd,
50 We laugh'dan We wept like spoiled
children.
Wise Walker OF the COmfer-philosophic
and merry
Exclaimed-being uncertain awhile,
Oct tliem leGtheraway, neither one Idare
would help my lame leg DER stilc:"
Spoiled children alas! Faithless friends,
by the Mass
| At least we so call one another
Corruption and fraud, arc theories that's
abroad
Bandied round'twixt brother and brother.
Why! stranger would think that this
land was sink
OF iniQuity, meriting cremation;
While you and knew, that thisis not So
We're the incest people in creation.
The year begins. ! turn leaf,
Aliover writ with good resolves,
Each to fulfill WILDE in chief
My aim while earth its round revolves.
How many leaf 've turned before,
And tried to make the record true;
Each year Il wreck on times dullshOre
Proved much dared, but little knew.
All, bright resolve! How high you bear
The futures hopeful standard on;
How brave you start; how poor you were
How soon are hope and courage gone,
You point to deeds OF sacrifice,
You shun the path OF careless case;
Lentilcs and wooden shoes? Is this
The fare human soul to please?
What wonder, then, itmen do fall,
Where good is ever all austere;
While vice is fair and pleasant all,
And turns the leaf to lead the year?
Yet still once moro turn the leaf,
And mean to walk the better way;
struggle on with old unbeliei,
/ And strive to reqch the perfect day.
Why should the road that leads to heaven
Be all one reach of sterile sand?
Why not, just here and there, be given
A rose to deck the dreary land?
But why rcpine? Others have trod,
With sorer feet and heavier sins,
Their painful pathway toward their God
My pilgrimage anew begins.
Failure and failure, hitherto,
Has time inscribed upon my leaves:
I've wandered many a harvest through,
And never yet have gathered sheaves,
Yet once again the leaf turn,
Hope against hope for one success
One merit mark at least to earn,
One sunbeam in the,wilderncss.
Could l, from Heaven inspired, as sure
presage
10 whom the rising year shall prove his
last,
ASH can number in my punctualpage,
And item ii down, the victims OF the past;
How each would trembling waitthc mOurn-
iiil sheet
On which the press might stamp him next
And, reading here his sentence, how re-
With anxious meaning, Heaycnward turn
his eycl
Time then would seem more precious than
the joys
In which le sports away the treasure now
A,,d ,Nra,,nr moro nnaDnubla Ilnn tho noise