The Poets and Poetry of Cecil County, Maryland Part 22

Rise, Virtue! Rise forever!

The New-Year comes amain!

O! Give him welcome ever!

Can bleeding hearts refrain?

All hail! Oh beautiful New-Year!

Full, full of promise fraught with cheer.

Bright promise of the glad return Of glowing fires that erst did burn On hearths long desolate!

Hail! Great deliverer from wrath, Brave pioneer upon the path That leads to better fate!

Joy be to thee thy natal day, As dawns Aurora's earliest ray, While youth is fresh and faith is clear And hope is bright with coming cheer!

Thou promisest eventful life As, giant-like, thou leap'st to earth, Robed in full majesty at birth; With power to do and will to dare And arm to shield from threat'ning care, And eye to ken the dead past's strife.

Thy young life's hand knows yet no stain Of blood, or greed, or guilt, or gain.

But, know, Oh Friend! thou'rt ushered in To feel the jar and note the din Of war-blast's rude alarms.

Thy elder brother, gone before, Has left upon this nether sh.o.r.e A burden for thine arms.

'Tis thine to choose the part thou'lt take, Oh giant mighty! Thine to make An early choice; lose not an hour.

'Tis crime to waste prodigious power.

Great, vast, appalling, is the task By fate a.s.signed to thee. No mask Of indecision now is given.

The bolt of Mars the rock has riven.

The hour is dark:--the danger nigh.

The ravens caw: the eagles cry.

The breakers dash--the chasm yawns: The skies are lurid:--chaos dawns.

Thunder with thunder-peal is riven As if to shake earth's faith in heaven!

All, all is wild! No sun! No moon!

Earth, air and sky, in dire commune, Demand--what hand shall guide them now?

New-Year, stand forth and bide the call To thee address'd.

We stand or fall As thou decree'st.

Frown, and we perish. Smile, we rise To joys that savor of the skies.

Bid lethargy depart thy brow And strike for right and truth.

Young, thou; but hast no youth.

No hours are thine for sportive mirth.

Minerva-like, mature from birth, Great deeds and valiant thine must be, In wisdom guided, fair and free.-- Deeds that no year hath known before; Fraught not with strife;--drenched not in gore.

Free from old taint of fell disease And ancient forms of party strife.

Rich in the gentler modes of life With sweeter manners, purer laws, Forerunner of those years of ease That token a sublimer cause!

What say'st thou? Giant, young and strong, What impulse heaves thy throbbing breast?

Shall warrior plumes bedeck thy crest?

Wilt whisper peace? Or shout for war?

Wilt plead for right, or bleed for wrong?

Wilt peal the bugle-blast afar And urge the cannon's madd'ning roar?

Or wing the note through vale and glen:-- Hail! Peace on earth! Good-will to men!

Reason return:--let strife be o'er?

Thou speak'st not, giant, but I feel Hope's roseate flush upon my brow.

Thy deeds will seal thy silent vow.

New aims thy glory will reveal.

Thou heed'st the anguished bosom's smart, And thou wilt choose the better part.

Thou'lt live on hist'ry's brightest page A monarch mighty, gentle sage: Great, great for what thou wilt have done And blest in all the course thou'lt run:-- Thy crown not carved in bra.s.s or wood, To crumble or decay; But be in endless day, Emblem of grandeur, shrined in good.

And truth and peace will round thee weave An amaranthyne wreath of love, Its blessed motto ... trust--believe.

And thou wilt share the realm above, Where bleeding hearts shall triumph meet, Around one common mercy-seat.

All hail, then, beautiful New-Year!

Hero of promise, fraught with cheer!

Bright promise of the glad return Of glowing fires that erst did burn On hearths long desolate!

Thy stainless youth supports our faith That thou wilt break the bonds of death And snap the web of hate.

And thou farewell, grim tyrant old!

Who, who would call thee back!

Thou cam'st with b.l.o.o.d.y footstep, bold; Thou leav'st a blood-stained track.

Go! Find a grave in the billowy surge That ne'er can wash thee clean; The wail of millions be thy dirge-- Thy judge--the Great Unseen!

And when the resurrection morn Shall seek thy name to blot, Ho! Heed the voice that asks in scorn,-- Thou liv'dst and reign'dst for what?

Pa.s.sion unbridled, stubborn pride, Avengers, thine to rue, Of outraged virtue, truth defied, Shall 'balm in blood thy due, Lost eighteen sixty-two.

MY BIRTHDAY.

TO S---- 1864.

The night is strangely, wildly dark; The thunders fiercely roll, And lightnings flash their angry spark; But thou absorb'st my soul.

I have no care for storm-king's cloud, How black soe'er it be;-- No truant thought for earth's dark shroud: I'm thinking, love, of thee.

To-night the G.o.d of battles views, With deprecating eye, A scene where demons wild infuse A thirst for victory.

'Tis His, not mine to guide the storm; 'Tis His to calm the sea: My spirit hovers 'round thy form.

I'm thinking, love, of thee.

Time's cycle once again has wrought Its round:--I'm twenty six.

Another mile-stone's gained--sad thought-- Toward deep, silent Styx.

I count no laurels I have won; Years bring no joy to me, While yet alone I wander on In timid thought of thee.

Years six and twenty have been mine To journey on alone: Shall I as many more repine, Before I am undone?

Or shall the journey henceforth take A brighter phaze for me?

Shall I next six-and-twenty make My journey, love, with thee?

If so, good-bye grim doubt and fear: Adieu to arid sand.

All Hail! Oh prospect bright and clear!

All Hail, oasis grand!

Hand joined in hand, heart linked with heart, Come joy, come hope, come glee!

United, ne'er on earth to part, I'll always think of thee.

If not, Good-bye! The spirit breaks; The fountain soon must dry.