Omaha daily bee., 1908-12-31
THE CLOSING YEAR.
George d. Prentice.

George d. Prentice.
lis midnight's holy hour, and silence now
The still and p%ulseless world. Hark! on
The Seil,s deep tones are swelling; It's the
OF the departed year.
No funeral train
Is sweeping past; yet on the stream and
With melancholy light, the moonbeSms
Like 2 pale, spotless shroud; the air is
As by a mourner's sigh, and on yon cloud, I
That floats so still and placidly through !
heaven,
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 dirge DER the dead year.
Gone from the earth forever.
For memory and for tears. Within the
stl chambers of the heart, a specter
Whose tones are like the wizard voice of
time,
Heard from the tomb of ages, points It's
And solemn finger to the beautiful
And holy visions that have pass,d away,
On the dead waste of life. That specter
lifts
The coffin-lid of hope, and 10Y. and love.
And, bending mournfully above the pale,
Sweet forms that slumber there, s%catters
Ger what has pass'd to nothinsness.
Tho year 4,
Has gone, and with It many a glorious
or happy dreams. Its mark is on each
Its shadow in each, heart. In i'm swift
iva coufseou 7effo hre orfoir IT, 1
1t waved its scepter DER the beautiful,
And they are not. 1t laid its pallid han :
Upon, the strong man, and the haugf
Is fallen, and the flashing eye is dim.
II trod the hall of revelry, where throng
The bright and Joyous, and the tearf ~
wall.
OF stricken ones is heard. where ersr
And reckless shout resounded.
1t pass'd DER
The ba.tle.Plain' where sword and spear
Flash'd in the light of midday-and the
strength
ofserrid hosts is shlver'd, and the grass.
Green from the soil of carnage, waves
The crush'd and mouldering skeleton. 1t
And faded like a wreath Of mist at eve:
Yet, ere IT melted in the viewless air,
It heralded its millions to their home
In the dim land of dreams.
Remorseless time
Fierce spirit OF the glass and scythe-
Can stay him in his silent course, or
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 unfathomable depths,
or brave
The fury Of the northern hurricane,
And battle his plumage in the thunder's
Furls his broad wings at nightfall. and
To rest upon his mountain crag-but time
Knows not the weight of sleep or weari-
ness,
And nights deep darkness has no chain fp I
bind ~
His rushing pinions.
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; mpuntalns
To heaven their bald and blaoken'd eliffs.
and bow
Their tan heads to the plain new empires
Gathering the strength OF hoary cen
turtles,
And rush down like the Alpine avalanche.
Startling the nations; and the very stars,
Yon bright and burning blazonry of God,
Glitter a while in their eternal depths,
And, like the Pleiad. loveliest OF their
Shoot from their glorious spheres, and
To darkle in the trackless void-TIme-
Time, the tomb-builder. holds his fiereA
career,
Dark, stern, .all-pitiless and pauses not
Amid the mighty wrecks that strew IN
To sit and muse. like other conquerors. \
Upon the fearful ruin he has wrought