Omaha daily bee., 1896-12-31
THE CLOSING YEAR.
Famous RECONCILIATION of 70 Time,
Written by George ID. Prentice.

Famous RECONCILIATION of 80 Time,
written by George ID. rr"ndcc.
'Tis midnight's holy houi--and silence now
Is broodlng, like a gentle spirit, Ger
The still and pulseless world. Hark! on
The "b beiis deep notes are swelling. 'Tis
the knell
No funeral train
Is sweeping past; yet on the stream and
with melancholy light, the moonbeams
rest,
Like a pale. spotless shroud; the air is
As by a mourners sigh, and on yon cloud
That floats so still and placidly through
The spirits of the seasons seem to stand
Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's
solemn form,
And Winter with his aged locks-and
In mournful cadences, that come abroad
Like the far wind-harp's wild and touch
A melancholy mel dirge DER the dead Year,
o0''' i'0''' '''N 'Tis a time
For memory and for tears. Within the
Still chambers of the heart. a specter dim.
Whose tones are like the wizard voice of
Heard from the tomb of ages, points its
And solemn finger to the beautiful
And holy visions tnat have passed away
And left no shadow of their lovelness
on the dead waste of life. That specter
lifts
And. bending mournfuly above the pale
Sweet forms that sumber there, scatters
dead flowers
Der what has passed to nothingness.
Has gone. and with it many glorious
OF happy dreams Its mark is on each
It's shadow in each heart. In its swift
1t waved it's scepter DER the beautiful.
And they are not. 1t laid its pallid hand
Upon the strong man, and the halAhty
Is fallen, and the flashing eye is dim.
II trod the hall of revelry. where thronged
The bright and joyous, and the fearful
OF stricken ones is heard, where crst the
And reckless shout resounded. 1t passed
DER
The batte-plain, where sword, and spear,
and shield
Flashed in the light of mrdday-and the
OF sorrlcd hosts is shivered, and the grass
Green from the soil of carnage, waves
above
The crushed and mouldering skeleton 1t
And faded like a wreath of mist at eve:
Yet. ere II melted in the viewless air
II heralded its millions to their home
Remorseless Time!-
flerce spirit OF the glass and scythe!-
what power
Can stay him in his silent course, or melt
His iron heart to pity? on, still on
He presses, and forever. The proud bird
The Condor of the Andes that can soar
Through heavens unfathomabe depths,
The fury of the northern hurricane
And bathe his plumage in the thunder's |
home,
Furis his broad wings at nightfal, and
To rest upon his mountain crag-but
Time
Knows not the weight of sleep or wearl-
ness,
And nights deep darkness has no chain
His rushing pinion Revolutions sweep
Ger earth, like troubled visions DER the |
breast
Of dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink,
Like bubbles on the water; fiery isles
Spring, blazing from the ocean, and go
back
To their mysterious caverns, mountains
rear
To heaven their bald and blackened cliffs
Their tail heads to the plain; new empires
rise,
the strength of hoary centuries
And rush down like the Alpine avalanche,
5tartling the nations and the very stars,
Yon bright and burning blazonry of God
Glitter awhile i'm their eternal depths,
And, like the Pleiad. loveliest of their
train,
Shoot from their glorious spheres. and
pass away,
70 darkle in the traclsless void; yet Time,
Time the tomb-builder, holds his fierce
career
Dark, stern, all-pitiless. and pauses not
Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his
path,
70 Sit and muse, like other conquerors,
Jpon the fearful ruin he has wrought.