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Thomas Cole's poetry

the collected poems of America's foremost painter of the Hudson River School reflecting his feelings for nature and the romantic spirit of the Nineteenth Century

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[60. This day hath closed another of my years]

This day hath closed another of my years
And the red current that doth turn the wheel
Of mortal life, of its appointed task
This much hath well performed; to be renewed
No more. I know the years my life has known
I know that there has mingled in their tide
The light, the dark, the painful and the glad;
But when I gaze into the Future's depths
And strive to learn what yet remains of life
Whether of years or hours or seconds, Ah!
'Tis blank, mysterious and mortal ken
Is lost in gloom. Am I disconsolate
That all is dark? Oh God forbid! For though
Not yet is granted prescience to man
Immortal hope is given him to sustain.
Who gave this being knows the time to take.
That time Oh God! I wait! Grant that the hour
Whene'er it come may find me trusting thee.
January 31, 1841