The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1880-02-19

Tread by DR.. Oliver Wendell Holmes as response
at the Breakfast extended MIN in Boston by an array
Of literary celebrities on the event Of his 10th birth
dayl
Where Is this patriarch you are kindly grecting7
Not unfamiliar to my ears his name,
Nor yet unknown TO many Joyous meeting
In days long yanlshed-is lie still the same7
Or, changed by years, forgotten and forgetting,
Dull-eared, dim-sighted, slow of speech and
thought;
u Ger the sad, degenerate present iretuug,
Where all goes wrong aud nothing as It ought.
Old age, the gray bcard Well, indeed, know
shrunk, tOttoring, bent, of aches and ills the
prcyj
In sermon, story, fable picture, poem,
OFT have met him from my earliest day
IN my old fGsop, toiling with his bundle
His load OF stichs-p6Iitey asking death.
Who comes when called fOi-woud he lug or .run-
die ..
His iasoL for him2 lie was scant Of breath.
And sad (Ecclesiastcs, or the prcacher)-
has he not stamped the image IN my soul
In mat lust chapter, where the worn 'Out teacher
Signs Ger the lOVscned cord, the broken bUwl2
Yes, long indeed I've known him at Il distance,
And now my lifted door-latch shows him here
take his ,hrlyclcl hand without resistance
Ana hnd him smiling AZ his step draws near
What though Of gilled bawbles ho bcrc,Ycs u.,
Dear to the heart Of youth, to manhOod's prince
Illihk OF the calm he brings, the wealth he leaves
us,
The boarded spoils, the legacies Of time
Affairs once flaming, still with incense fragrant
Passions uneasy nusliug ruc. d asleep
Hopes anchor faster, wild desire less vagrmt
Lies low less noisy, but the stream low deep.
Still, as the silver cord gets worn aud slender,
Its liglltcnCd task-wuTk tugs with lyssH ming strain
Hands gets moro helpful, voices grow more tender,
Soothc with their softened tones the sumbi0uS
brain.
YOUTH longs and manhood strives bat age rcmcnl-
Sits by the roEcd up ashes Of the past,
Spreads its thin hands above the Whitening embers
That warm its creeping life blood till the last.
Dear to its heart is every loving token
That comes uubidicn ere It's pulse grows cold,
Ere the last lingering ties Of lie are broken,
Its laLors ended and its story told.
All, when around us rosy youth rioiccs,
For us the s0rrow-ltdcn brcrIos si.d
Ard through the chorus OF il, jocund VI ices
Throb the sharp notes Of misery's hopeless cry.
As on the gauzy wing, Of fancy flying
From some far orb track orr watrry sphere
Home Of the struggling, suffering donbting, DYING
The s,lycfed gobule seems glistening tear
But nature lends her mirror Of Illusion
To win from saddcuing scenes our age-dimmed
eyes
And misty day-drcanls blend in sweet confusion
The winiry landscape and the Summer skies
So when tho iron portal shuts behnd u.s.
And life fnr-cts us in IFS noise and whhi,
Visions that Stunned the glarlns MONDAY find us,
And gIlmmerns starlight shows the gates Of
pearl
come not here your morning hour to sadieu
limping pilgrim, leaning on his Stal
j, who have never deemed 1t sin ~ gladden.
This vale OF SORROWS with wholesome laugh.
Ii word Of mine anothcr's gloom has Frightened,
Through my dumb lips tia hcayen-sent message
came
If hand Of mine anothcr's task has Iisbcnpd
1t felt the guidance that it dlTes not claim.
But oh! my gentle sisters, OH my brothers,
Thcsn thick sown snow flakes hint Of tolls re-
ICISe;
These lcchlcr pulses bid me leave to others
The tasks once welcome; evening asks for peace.
Time claims his tribute; silence now in golden;
Let me not yex the too long suffering lyrc;
Though 10 your love untiring still hcl0licu;
The curiew tells me--Covcrs up tho ire.
And now with grateful smile md accents cheerful
And warmer heart than look or word can tell,
In simplest phrasc-thcsc tI7itOrOus eyes are tear
iHl--
Thanks, brothers. ACKNOWLEDGMENT farewell