 | Poems of home and country |  |
374
OUR YEARS ROLL ON.
[_]
A “Carrier's Address” written January 1, 1832, while a student at Andover, Mass., and recalled to mind by the poet, with a loving confidence that when years on earth shall end, a blessed immortality lies beyond.
The choice of this poem, written shortly before the hymn, “My Country, 't is of thee,” has been adopted, with the poet's approval, as the closing selection of this volume. The experience of a long life has confirmed his early estimate of duty, as “Our years roll on.”
Our
years roll on; and fleeting years are they,
Brief as the rainbow on the dropping spray
Of some wild waterfall, that foams afar,
Where Nature's rudest rocks and forests are.
With heaven's bright hues the falling raindrops burn;
They hurry onward; others, in their turn,
Shine just as bright, and glow as soft and clear;
But while we look, their beauties disappear.
Brief as the rainbow on the dropping spray
Of some wild waterfall, that foams afar,
Where Nature's rudest rocks and forests are.
With heaven's bright hues the falling raindrops burn;
They hurry onward; others, in their turn,
Shine just as bright, and glow as soft and clear;
But while we look, their beauties disappear.
Our years roll on; and varied years are they.
Here smile the buds of hope; there dwells decay.
Now friends are here; but quickly they depart,
And death unwinds the strings that bind the heart.
Pleasure and pain their changing courses keep,
Sure as our waking hours succeed to sleep;
From wave to wave we mount, till changing tires,
And life—the close of changing scenes—expires.
Here smile the buds of hope; there dwells decay.
Now friends are here; but quickly they depart,
And death unwinds the strings that bind the heart.
Pleasure and pain their changing courses keep,
Sure as our waking hours succeed to sleep;
From wave to wave we mount, till changing tires,
And life—the close of changing scenes—expires.
Our years roll on; and blessed years are they,
Cheered with the righteous Sun's reviving ray.
The streams of rich salvation round us flow,
And thousand hearts their precious virtue know.
Tidings of souls renewed and sins forgiven
Come floating by, on every wind of heaven;
The sway of sin begins at length to wane;
And o'er the world the Saviour comes to reign.
Cheered with the righteous Sun's reviving ray.
The streams of rich salvation round us flow,
And thousand hearts their precious virtue know.
375
Come floating by, on every wind of heaven;
The sway of sin begins at length to wane;
And o'er the world the Saviour comes to reign.
Our years roll on; and active years are they.
O'er flowery banks we may not take our way;
We may not linger where soft numbers swell,
Nor over-love the things we love so well.
'T is ours to work for God; 't is ours to go
Through earth's wide field, the precious seed to sow.
We may not rest till life's bright years decline;
Then, like the sun in heaven, our names shall shine.
O'er flowery banks we may not take our way;
We may not linger where soft numbers swell,
Nor over-love the things we love so well.
'T is ours to work for God; 't is ours to go
Through earth's wide field, the precious seed to sow.
We may not rest till life's bright years decline;
Then, like the sun in heaven, our names shall shine.
Our years roll on; our years must pass away.
Our youth's companions, tell us, where are they?
And where are thousands whom we knew before,—
Thousands, whose faces we shall see no more?
Among the dead their dwelling is to-day.
Hear we their voice, “Ye living, watch and pray!”
Hear and obey; then we no scene may fear;
But each revolving sun shall bring a happy year.
Our youth's companions, tell us, where are they?
And where are thousands whom we knew before,—
Thousands, whose faces we shall see no more?
Among the dead their dwelling is to-day.
Hear we their voice, “Ye living, watch and pray!”
Hear and obey; then we no scene may fear;
But each revolving sun shall bring a happy year.
| Poems of home and country | |