ANNO DOMINI, 1860.
My youth is past!—this morn I stand,
With manhood's signet of command,
Firm-planted on life's middle-land!
Behind, the scene recedes afar,
Where cloudy mists and vapors mar
The lustre of my morning-star.
I mark the courses of my days,
Inwound through many a doubtful maze,—
To marvel at those devious ways!
They lead through hills and levels lone,
Green fields, and woodlands overgrown,
And where deep waters pulse and moan;—
By ruined tower, by darksome dell,
The home of night-birds fierce and fell,
Wherein strange shapes of Horror dwell;—
Out to the blessed sunshine free,
The breezy moors of liberty,
And skies outpouring harmony;—
By palace-wall, by haunted tomb,
Through bright and dark, through joy and gloom:
My life hath known both blight and bloom.
And now, as from some mountain-height,
Backward I strain my eager sight,
Till all the landscape melts in night;—
Then, whispering to my Heart, "Be bold!"
I turn from years whose "tale is told,"
To greet the Future's dawn of gold:
High hopes and nobler labors wait
Beyond that Future's opening gate,—
Brave deeds which hold the seeds of Fate.
Thy strength, O Lord, shall fire my blood,
Shall nerve my soul, make wise my mood,
And win me to the pure and good!
Or if, O Father, thou shouldst say,
"Dark Angel, close his mortal day!"
And smite me on my vanward way,—
Grant that in armor firm and strong,
Whilst pealing still Life's battle-song,
And struggling, manful, 'gainst the wrong,
Thy soldier, who would fight to win
No crown of dross, no bays of sin,
May fall amidst the foremost din
Of Truth's grand conflict, blest by Thee,—
And even though Death should conquer, see
How false, how brief his victory!
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