Poems (Griffith)/Close of the Year
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Close of the Year.
AN hour ago the music at the wood,
And the low chant of waves came o'er the glade,
But now no murmur breaks the solitude,
And a stern weight on Nature's pulse seems laid.
Yon moon has seen the death of countless years
From her blue air-halls in the midnight sky,
And lo! her dim sad eye looks down through tears
Upon the earth to see another die.
And the low chant of waves came o'er the glade,
But now no murmur breaks the solitude,
And a stern weight on Nature's pulse seems laid.
Yon moon has seen the death of countless years
From her blue air-halls in the midnight sky,
And lo! her dim sad eye looks down through tears
Upon the earth to see another die.
Silent and beautiful, she sits alone,
The princess of the sky, and in her pale
Sweet light a spell of mournful love seems thrown
Upon the plain, the forest, and the vale:
It is the old year's death~hour, but no sob
Comes on the night-air from his dying breast;
Serene, and calm, and still, without one throb
Of agony he passes to his rest.
The princess of the sky, and in her pale
Sweet light a spell of mournful love seems thrown
Upon the plain, the forest, and the vale:
It is the old year's death~hour, but no sob
Comes on the night-air from his dying breast;
Serene, and calm, and still, without one throb
Of agony he passes to his rest.
Yet tears are in our hearts and in our eyes,
Mid the strange stillness of this solemn night,
While here we sit and muse upon the ties
The dying year has severed in his flight;
Ay, as his last breath on the air is flung,
Our hearts are heavy and our eyes are dim
With thinking of the woes that with him sprung
To life—alas; they cannot die with him.
Mid the strange stillness of this solemn night,
While here we sit and muse upon the ties
The dying year has severed in his flight;
Ay, as his last breath on the air is flung,
Our hearts are heavy and our eyes are dim
With thinking of the woes that with him sprung
To life—alas; they cannot die with him.
Like the cold shadow of a demon's plume,
A chilling darkness that will not depart
Lies on our thoughts, and casts its sullen gloom
Around the dearest idols of the heart;
We learn in youth the stern and bitter lore
That comes of ruined hopes and darkened dreams,
And Nature has no magic to restore
The glory of the spirit's shadowed gleams.
A chilling darkness that will not depart
Lies on our thoughts, and casts its sullen gloom
Around the dearest idols of the heart;
We learn in youth the stern and bitter lore
That comes of ruined hopes and darkened dreams,
And Nature has no magic to restore
The glory of the spirit's shadowed gleams.
Scattered and broken on life's desert wide,
The soul's best gems, its brightest treasures
And memories of joy, and love, and pride
Lie dim upon the bosom's shattered shrine:
We gaze into the future, but a shade
Is on its visions, they are not so blest
And beautiful as those the year has laid
Within the heart's deep sepulchre to rest.
The soul's best gems, its brightest treasures
And memories of joy, and love, and pride
Lie dim upon the bosom's shattered shrine:
We gaze into the future, but a shade
Is on its visions, they are not so blest
And beautiful as those the year has laid
Within the heart's deep sepulchre to rest.
The music of our being's rushing stream
Is growing sad and sadder day by day,
And life is but a troubled fever-dream
That soon must vanish from our souls away;
But when this wild and tearful dream is past,
The mounting spirits of the pure will rove
Above the cloud, the whirlwind, and the blast,
In the bright Eden of immortal love.
Is growing sad and sadder day by day,
And life is but a troubled fever-dream
That soon must vanish from our souls away;
But when this wild and tearful dream is past,
The mounting spirits of the pure will rove
Above the cloud, the whirlwind, and the blast,
In the bright Eden of immortal love.
Farewell, old year! while sorrow dims our eyes,
We bless thee for the lessons thou hast given;
Though thou hast filled earth's atmosphere with sighs,
We trust that thou hast brought us nearer heaven:
Some stars that gleam along thy shadowy track
Will shine upon our hearts with holy power,
And oft our pilgrim-spirits will come back
To muse and weep o'er this thy dying hour.
We bless thee for the lessons thou hast given;
Though thou hast filled earth's atmosphere with sighs,
We trust that thou hast brought us nearer heaven:
Some stars that gleam along thy shadowy track
Will shine upon our hearts with holy power,
And oft our pilgrim-spirits will come back
To muse and weep o'er this thy dying hour.
Old year, farewell, the myriad flowers that thou
Hast blighted, will again in beauty bloom,
And breathing millions thou hast caused to bow
In death, will rise in triumph from the tomb.
Not thus, old year, with thee. Thy life, now fled,
No power of God or Nature will restore;
The graves of years may not give up their dead,
And thou wilt live, oh never, nevermore.
Hast blighted, will again in beauty bloom,
And breathing millions thou hast caused to bow
In death, will rise in triumph from the tomb.
Not thus, old year, with thee. Thy life, now fled,
No power of God or Nature will restore;
The graves of years may not give up their dead,
And thou wilt live, oh never, nevermore.
Farewell, for ever fare thee well, old year !
The gentle angel, missioned at thy birth
To keep life's records through thy sojourn here,
Hat poised his shining wing and left the earth;
Oh, may the words of love and mercy fall,
Heaven's own blest music, on each erring soul,
When, on His burning throne, the Judge of all
Shall to our eyes unfold the awful scroll!
The gentle angel, missioned at thy birth
To keep life's records through thy sojourn here,
Hat poised his shining wing and left the earth;
Oh, may the words of love and mercy fall,
Heaven's own blest music, on each erring soul,
When, on His burning throne, the Judge of all
Shall to our eyes unfold the awful scroll!