The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-03-10
Z" TWILL BE ALL THE SAME IN A HUN
DREp YEARS."

THE following exqisite poem Is by an anon
yInous writer in the Dublin Telegraph QSj6l.
and is reproduced In these columns In compli-
ance with special request-l
Twill be all the same in hundred years.
What spell-word to coDjure mp smiles and
tears
on, how oft do 1 muse mid the thoughtless
and gay
On the marvellous truth that these words con.
veyt
And can it be so? Must the valiant aud free
Have their tenure of life on this frail decree
And the trophies they've reared and the glo-
ries they've won
Only, castles of frostwork, confronting the
And must all that's as Joyous and brilliant to
midsummer's dream. be as perishipg too?
Then have pity, We proud Ones-be gentle, We
great
o, remember how mercy 0eseemeth your
state;
For the rust that consumeth the sword of the
Is eating the chain of the manacIed slave,
and the conqueror's frown and the victim
VIII be ali the same In a hundred years.
Twill be sill the same in hundred years!
What sDell-wOrd to coDjure up aud smiles and
How dark are your fortunes. ye sons Of the
Whose heirloom is sorrow, whose birthIlght is
toll
Yet envy sOt those who have glory worth
By the sweat of the poor and the blood of the
bold;
For It's coming, however they may haunt In
their pride,
The day when they'll moulder to dust By your
side.
Death uniteth the childran of toll and of sloth.
And the democrat reptiles carOuse upon both;
For Time as he speeds on his viewless wings
Disenames and withers all earthly things;
And the knights white plume, and the shep
herds crook
And the minstrel's pipe and the scholars
And the emperor's crown, and his Cossacs'
spears
Twill be all the same in a hundred years.
o, most magical fountain of smiles and tears!
To think that our hopes, like the flowers OF
Which We love so much should be lost so soon
Then what meaneth the chase after phantom
joys.
OR the breaking of human hearts for toyse
Or the veterans pride in his crafty schemes?
Or the passion OF youth for its darling dreams"
Or the aiming at ends that we never can span:
Or the dead Y aversion of man for nan?
Whas avaiieth il sill? o, We sages say,
Or the miser's joy in his brilliant clay?
OR the lovers zeal for his mstchless prize
The enchanting maid with the starry eyes?
Or the feveTish conflict of hopes and fears,
II It's all the same In a hundred years.
All! us not the same in hundred years,
How clear soever the case now appears;
For know ye not that beyond the grave
Far, far beyond, where the cedars wave
On the Syrian mountains, or where the stars
Come gill tering forth in their golden cars,
There bloometh land Of peren NAL bliss.
Where we smile to think of the tears in tIis?
And the pilgrim reaching that radiant shore
Has the thought of death in his heart no more,
But layeth his staff and sandals down
For the victor's palm, and the mOnaTsh's
crown.
And the mother meets In that tranquil sphere
The delightful child she has wept for here;
And the warriors sword that protects the
right
Is bejeweled with stars OF undying light;
And we Quaff of the same immortal cup
While the orphan smiles, and the slave looks
up!
SO be glad, my heart, and forget thy fears.
For Gis not the same in hundred years.