The White Pine news. [volume] (Treasure City, Nev.) 1868-1906, 1882-02-18
" HIIE PINE NEWS
M NEW YEARS GUESTS.

nhotnsrsnbs al over Ave hundred California
n;onasrs of 1879. lime Midnight, Decem-
Der 81, lSsl.I
The winds come cold from tho Southwark
with incense Of fr and pine,
And the dying clouds gro" darker Us tney
The vailays that reach the deserts, the noun
talus that r.a h the clouds,
Lie bare in the arms vi winter, which the
prudish Night en-hio1ds.
The leaaess sage ON the hillside, the "iiio"s
low down the 'trea.n, n
And tho ssntry rocks above US, have faded all
rs DR. Am.
The tall OF tn stamp grows fainter; the voices
OF night sink low;
through the drifting snow.
As / sit aionr IN my chamber, this last of the
dying year, -
liant tnTo ,gh tue storm 4 hear
Of tal.s o. III castles blIlt under shelving
rock and pine,
OF the boarded men and stalwart | greeted in
The giants Win hopes auaucious' she sA"H's
OF iron llmD;
The giants wno)ourneyed westward when the
t,ats were new AMI ain;
Tho giants .gho feiled tbs forests, made path
ways DER tbs SHOWS,
And pIan ed ths vino and hS-tree where tue
Who sept dow The mountain gorges. and
painted thslr . ldle-s nlgat
With thor cdpins, radsly iashl0ned, ana their
%calnp-Ir.s' rudy iisnt.
Who Ddiid III great towns ana clties' VINO
swung back tn HOiden Gate, !.
And heSed lrum a mighty asdier tue i~rm OF
IA sovereign state.
Who eam5 Lac q i0od OF waters 10 luisses
d1ssrt plain,
And Shsro there had been no reapers grew
vail rs oil golden grain.
No wonder that this strange music sweeps In
from tho silcnt past, 3,
And comos with tho storm this evening, aRu
blends its strain with ths BIAS;
No wonder hat through the darkness should
enter n spectral Thong,
And gather around NY taoie with the old-tlme
smile and song;
For there On the wall before me, IN q frame oi
gilt and brown,
With a cnain of years suspended, old face are
looking down;
Five b indred ali grouped together hFe nun
dred old ploneersj-
Now list As [ ralse the taper and trace tho
steps OF tn years.
RehoId this Inc. near the center; we met ere
his lOcKs We're gray;
Ills purse like his hsart was open; he strug-
giles for bread to-day.
his harden well
And ths willows bend in sorrow by the way
side wnsre he TELL.
Great ,osses and ief crazed this one; great
riches tdrnei this one's bend;
And = faithiess wife wrecked this one he
liyss, b 1t Ssre better dead.
Now closer the light on this face; twas wrin-
kled whsn We We're yoanSi
His torch drew our footsteps westward; his
nauv is ON every tongue
Rich vas hs in lands and kindness. but tho
human dsluge came.
And lett hin ut last With nothing but death
and a ueathIess lame.
Twas a kindly hand that grouped them these
faces Oh other years
The rich and poontogsthcr-the hopes and the
smiles and tears
Of so,ns OF the fearless hundreds, who went
like the knights ot old,
The banner Of empire bearing to the land Of
blue and goid.
For years hava | watched these shadows. as
Others | know have done;
As dsnth touched thsir lips with silence |
have draped them one BY one.
Till. seen where the dark plumed Angel has
mingled the "A here and there.
The bTows | nave hecked with sable the llv-
ing clouds everywhere.
Darker and darker and darker these shadows
will yearly. grow,
falling snow;
And soon let me invoke 1.-THE final prayer
And strangers will write the record THE
Last ot the groap Is dead"
And then-but why stand there %galing7 A
ga herring storm in my eyes
Is maekinx tho weeping tempest that pillows
the weeping skies;
And, stranger still is 1t a fancy? Are my
senses daZed md weak
The shadowy lips are moving rs II they would
ope and speak;
And l seem to hear low whispers, and catch
tha echo OF strains
That rose from tbs garden gulches and follow
ed the moving trains.
The scent OF the sage and desert, tho path
DER tho ROCKY hight,
The shall0H graves by the roadslde-all, all
have come back tonight;
And the mlldewed years, like stubble, ] tram
pie undOr my feet.
And drink again Of the fountain when the
wine Of lie was sweet;
And 1 stand again exalted where the white
pine frets tn skies
And dream in the winding canyon where
early the twilight dies.
Now the eyes lock down in sadness. The pulse
of the year beats low;
The storm has been awed to silence: the muf-
lieu hanus OF tbs snow,
Like the noiscless feet Of m0urners. are
spreading n paid sheet
Ger the breast of dead December and glazing
the shroud with sleet.
Harki tho bells are ehlning midnight; the
storm bends its l~ist'ning ear,
While the moon looks through tho cloud riffs
and blesses the now born year.
And now the faces are smiling. " hat augury
eau 1t be?
No matter; the hours in passing will fashion
the years for me.
Bar closely the curtained windows; shur the
light from every pane,
While free from the worlds intrusion and GU
rious eyes p%rofane.
/ take from its leathern casket a dinted old
cup OF tin,
More precious to me than silver, and blessing
the draught within,
/ drink alone and in silence to tho Builders Of
West-