The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1881-01-05
JANUARY 1sT, 1881.

JANUARY lsT, looL
KIND FRIENDS:
One more year from Times great reservoir
Has gone, where from our gaze eyermore,
1t will lie hidden under the ocean waves
0fan eternity whoserippling wavelet lnyes
The strewn vestiges, left there and there in
the flight
ofHim, who, in his silent, resistless might,
Knows not rest from work, now long be-
gun,
Until Angelicvoice proclaim, "Tis done"
Tho great ~Tomb.builder," with relentless
hand, +
Stepping silentand easy upon the firm land,
Reached out, and with Titan strength, and
bold,
Crushed TO earth many Of our hopes, as Of
old,
AT the moment, when feeling cetainly sure,
These blossoms, soon to be fruit, we'd pro,
cure,
And in our delight gather and garner it
safe away,
Tominister to thecomfortsofa coming day.
Growing here was bright, crimson.tipp'd
flower,
Nesting in crevice OF LIES sweet bower,
Clinging in beauty to its delicate stem,
Drinking in the sunlight--a matchlsss gem
OF crystal water, sparkling in its brilliant
hue,
As on emerald glade the morning due,
When it tries, in vain reflection, to give
back the light
To Him whose glory dispels the shades oil
night.
Many and many evening came there one
From the narrow confines OF his sunny
home,
To catch the odor OF this little sweet flower
Living in modesty in its rosy bower,
To gaze in love at this rarest gem,
This beautiful flower on its delicate stem;
But Time, watching and seeing it long,
Plucked it and bore it to the silent throng
And now to this visitor the "taper light OF
hope"
Went out, and creeping in despair to a
slope
That lay long distant from the quiet scene
Where this gem of beauty once had been,
Mourned the sad loss man oft sustained,
When Time, as by pity once constrained,
Passing near the scene, the mourner in full
view,
smote and bore him to the "City of tic ST.
lent" too.
Then reached there forth on the shore Of
being,
While the hours fast indeed were fleeing,
A stout, bold, daring young hand,
And, to grasp the. glories Of the land,
Tore away all strong letters most adverse,
Snatched the strings OF a nations purse,
Devised and passed all laws to suit his taste,
His country bathed in blood and others
laid he waste.
This hand is but the form ofhuman soul,
Which, in direst lust to reach its goal,
From Iiberty's fair brow will turn aside,
Anation's rights in glee quick override,
The rod OF Nemesis snap sure i'll twain,
To feel its stings no more again.
Will, at last behold its own damnation,
And but the work Of high ambition;
For Time in his great and mighty race
To that mystic eternity, the only place
Where Infinite wisdom, in majesty, hath
said
That the hoary Monster no more shall
tread
Down hopes and joys OF so many OF us,
Seeing this hand dead to sweetest touch
Graspcd it quick with fearful might
And did it chill with frosts ofnight.
'''''"|H S'SSIiIS vi SNOWY DOsOhl,
The JOY OF two hearts beating in unison, II
Radiant sunshine OF Il happy home,
Shedding hopes brightness on years to
come,
Awoke, looked up in the silence OF night
Saw nothing, heard not the tread easy
light,
OF Time, who quick snatchcd and carried
itaway,
To the realms above Of eternal day.
The pictured decay OF infancy is true
Ofworldly hope left to me and to you,
and, like sleeping innocenccin the silent
night,
Needing not the great Hero in his fight,
We sip the nectar in LIES sweetest cup
While Time is gathering the others up,
Which done, he calls us, to our surprise
To live no more meath the starry skies.
BURNER TIpPETT.
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