Classic Poem

Now from Parnassian heights, or Tempe's vale,
Where founts ambrosial gush in limpid streams,
Thou Muse of song descend, while at thy shrine
An humble votary kneels, thee to invoke;
To numbers sweet this harp discordant tune,
While fiery steeds bring down the queen of morn
In joyful haste, winged through the liquid air.
Dawn of the infant year! we hail its birth; —
The sunlight dances on the crested wave,
And nymphs in coral caves far, far beneath,
Wild music wakes, while from Arcadian bowers
Come soft perfumes on zephyrs lightly borne.

A form aerial from the spirit land
Bade me a message to thine ear impart,
Of import solemn; deign me audience then,
Brother beloved! and she will guide thy bark
On life's tempestuous wave — a pleasing task.
Her name is Hope — twin sister of sweet Peace —
An amaranthine wreath she brought, so twined
That frost of age may never blight its flowers,
And bade me place it on thy youthful brow.
There was a tear-drop in her wild blue eye
While thus she spake, " It is not mine to draw
The dark, dark veil that shrouds futurity.
Clouds, dark, portentous clouds may gather o'er
That sky now radiant with the light of joy,
Yet shall one star his beacon ever be
Whose light they may not quench — I am that star. "
She said, then slowly faded from my sight, —
Yet softly whispered, " What I have revealed,
Haste to disclose, thy mission well befits
A morn like this; I can no more; farewell! "
Her parting accents scarce her lips had passed,
When swift I flew to thee: My tale is told.

I know that thoughts of loved ones far away
Steal o'er thee now, and theirs, too, turn to thee
From that far western home, around whose fire
Thy parents sit, and thy loved sister fair,
On whose bright cheek the rose and lily bloom,
And sigh for thee, loved brother and loved son,
And fondly wish that thou wert there to-day.
Now, cease, my harp — the muse impatient flies —
Yet stays a moment one kind wish to breathe; —
A happy New-year! and when life's last ray
Shall set for ever, and thy pulseless heart
Lie cold and still beneath the silent tomb,
Oh! may thy spirit wing its flight to Heaven!