The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1895-11-07

1
From out the palace fronts that tace the skies.
The vapors chill which rise from Black lagoon
Veil stately tower and dim the rising moon,
The poisoning dOmeS groW dense and ray and
And droop like mourning robes in sombre fold.
From every cornIce falls gathering tea,
As though fair Venice mourned the dying year.
On every stairway Of the bridges white,
The beggars cover in the waning light,
informing prayers for aims in voices shlil.
Their bodies shivering ia the vapor chill.
dreary spell, unlike the air Of noon,
Falls Ger the scene, and through each broad la
The black boats wander on the sluggish tide.
AS past The quays their leng thened shadows glide
As twilight deepens into dusky night
Each dlngy shop breaks into sudden light,
And glowing fruits in scarlet, orange, green,
In luscious piles at every court are seen.
From houses desolate, tall, dark and dumb,
The pale-browed women from their labor come,
And from the towers that pierce Venetian skies
The Ginning bells in mourntul tones uprse.
The Ave Marie floats through the heavy mist
And, like life with sudden joy kissed,
The poor untutored souls find strange surcease
Of pain, and DER them falls heavenly peace,
tender spell, sudden gushing ont
o. mother love to silence fear and doubt,
Some mercy pure, some sympathy divine
That bids them kneel at the Madonnas shrine.
Lights CLEAN within the dim cathedral vast,
Rich with the trappings of the glorious past,
When Venice rose a fair and noble queen
And doge and prince in stately pomp were seen.
The chanting priests, the chimings of the bell,
The organ grand with its snorous swell,
The swinging lamps, the incense vapors white,
Send light and perfume on the shrouded night.
They wend their way along the vaulted naves
W here crystal crosses CLEAN like sparkling waves
Where tapers tall, like lilies pure ana white,
Send from the chancel rays Of softened light
Below the Virgin, with her pale brow sweet,
Are chanting angels nesting at her feet;
Within her arms the child to sorrow born,
And there the, knelI, these sad-eyed mothers wan
They praying gaze into Madonna's face.
And then silence ills the luminous space,
Like midnight stiffness on the plains afar
When shepherds saw the wonderous glittering
moment thus-then sweet beautitude.
The music sWeilS rom tender iuterluue
To rapturOuS strains that pierce the dome above,
H">annas grand and anthems rieh with love
o glowing picture of the star.born child.
Claspeu ia the arms of Mary sweet al MI mild.
Ages may come and 90. lconoclast
May tear tradlti ms Down. but sill shall last
Deep i'll the breasts ~ ~orroWnG mothers pale,
The golden glory of the Wonurous tale,
AND ears Of iaiih and trust Hear now. A. then.
The watchword, Peace eartn. good Will to
men,
ONE IN ONE.
One by one, ont Of nv hand,
Sitting like grains of shining sand
Gliding IKE shadows through the land
Passing like clouds at sunset hour.
Fleet as the fragrance from dying flower,
One hy one, my JOYS pass.
One by one, into my hand
Like shining threads from a golden strand,
Like gentle breezes by angels famed,
Bright as The song birds, darting in air,
Sweet as the perfume from roses rare
One by one. new Joys come.
WE ARE STANDING ONCE MORE At YOUR SIDE.
May Goth.
We are stan ding once more al your sile
10 render the homage so true
We, in our manhood and pride,
YOU meath the sod the dew
From your sindowess places Of rest,
Nowelcoming voices we hear,
No pressure from hands that We've pressed,
NO accents OF courage and cheer
The lilies and roses, to-day
Bloom over your notionless forms,
That sleep he long hours away
Cnmlndful OF sunshine and storms.
Do you stir when the drums mufied beat
Falls soft on the sweet summer air?
Do you hear the slow tread of our feet
When we bring You the garlands 50 fair?
Does the volley or rafting shot
Ever wake you with tremor or thrill,
Or the sight of the flag which you bought
Give a bound to the hearts cold and still?
Are you still keeping step as we Join
In the old way, soldierly, slow,
With your forms close up to the line
And your faces turned straight to the foe?
Though we come every year with the flowers
To place on your silent green tent.
Though the birds sing sweet through the hours,
Still you slumber in blissful content.
We are journeying through the dark arch
10 the path which your footsteps have trod,
Yet we pause in our swift hurried march
To lay the sweet flowers on the sod
We are standing once more at your side
Where you sleep in the bosom of rest,
We, in our manhood and pride,
Y gu, in the arms Of the BEST
THE GIFT OF THANkFULNEss.
l may not hide flower lined way beside,
Nor walk Gods upands dewy, fresh and green,