[1863.]
Let the bier move onward.--Let no tear be shed.
The midnight watch is ended: The grim old year is dead.
His life was full of turmoil. In death he ends his woes.
As fraught with toil his pilgrimage, may peaceful be its close.
Let the bier move onward.--Let no tear drop fall.
The couch of birth is waiting the egress of the pall.
Haste! Hasten the obsequies:--the natal hour is nigh.
Waste not a moment weeping when expectation's high.
* * * * *
Draw back the veil; the curtain lift.
Ho! Thirsting hearts, rejoice!
The new-born is no puny gift:--
Time's latest, grandest choice.
Nurseling and giant! Infant grown!
Majestic even now!
'Tis well that such a restless throne
Descends to such as thou.
* * * * *
Dame nature's travail bore thee;
Her pangs a world upheaved.
A world now bending o'er thee
Awaits those pangs relieved.
A world is waiting for thee:
And shall it be deceived?
Ah no! Such pangs were never
To mother giv'n in vain.
Rise, new-born! Rise and sever
Tyranny's clanking chain.
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 shore
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 assigned 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 brass 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 bloody 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?
Passion unbridled, stubborn pride,
Avengers, thine to rue,
Of outraged virtue, truth defied,
Shall 'balm in blood thy due,
Lost eighteen sixty-two.