IMEI • I iS i Eliii 0- HERALD ON THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE MY DEAR PATRONS : WOW R glorious thing_it is to he a Poet! And whii is there among the vgry select few to whom Nature has granted her choicest been,— the "gift divine of Poesy,"—that is not proud of it, and that is not eternally writing, and afterwards eter nally talking about Av. 3vrites? Poetry, I must confess, and I hope 1 do it wi:h becoming modesty, is my particular vanity.-4t is with me far above the empty vanity of " wearing good clothes" and such trifles.— Your, Carrier must be a poet,--"'t is his vocation"— and I have been patiently waiting this occasion to let myself out stropg in something original, unique and brillianctor your especial edification and amusement. I have beon for the last week boiling like a, teapot With inspiration, and felt just "in the vein" for throw. ing ofi a grand Naticinal'Poem, as long and as 'warlike as the President's Message.. I meant to go with my darling Muse clear down to the Rio Grande to "see the elephant," which has so excited the curiosity of our allant o follow ourd2ring Ea4lo.as ghe p umes er ight tor 5.1 40 and Ca i oinia—and of course I shoula have been with " the b-hoys" who are going to " revel in the halls ef the Moe But the fates were against me—l sat down to write, but oh, such hd'rrid pens and pale ink.! As a young lady once shrewdly remarked no one can spell correctly. or write gramma ically with bad pens and bad ink.— 'And id - write poetry with such Materials, is beyond .the highest effort el genius—it can't ho done. l'he very — attempt throw me into such a nervous Chill, that the poetic inspirafionovanished Aistanterg But 1 wasn't to be fooled b' any such provoking, cir cumstance. I was ,deterrisned the readers of the Herald' sholild have ellifsitleal New li - ear's Address, and a first-rate one too: So I coolly turned to my port -10.110 and took ont a gem by Pamerice—by the ward - ry you know PRENTICE, of the Louisville Journal, The keenest wit of the agel--I--have often told Pamrricz, that this poem makes his fame immortal. Thinks I if the patrons el the ' Herald'&can bo satisfied with anything less than-a production of my own, it will be this. So 1 adopted it for the, occasion. It isypon the "Close of the iear." There are some ..vmylaalerna - reflections connected with the close of the year, espe cially to me. I shall feel very solemn this evening, l am sure, dear Patrons, if 1. do not realize your usual liberality to-day ; and if I don't et a pretty good pile of " 331 . 1.YR5," "QUARTERS " and' " zevirs,h my poetry will be i vory nearly U knocked into fits." This is a very distressing apprehension, but I am sure I do you injustice by entertaining it for a moment. But the truth is " filtity lucre" will sometimes obtrude upon a Poet's thoughts. .Excase the weakness, .and while you've got your purse out, I,et• me invite your , attention to my adopted Poem, and subscribe myself _Annually "yours ta sarve," GEORGE L. GOUGHER. Falan anaM:2. CIMPISEE2 Trit3i Gone ! gone forever !—Liko a rushing wave, Another year has burst upon the shore Of earthly being—and its last loiv tones, Wandering in brokenlaccentson - the air, Are dying to an echo, , Weep.not that time . • hi passing on—it will ere long reveal • A brighter era to the nation.--Hark ! Thegay Spring Along the vales and mountains tat the earth There is a deep,- - portentous murmuring With ito young tharnis has gone,—gone with its leaves, Like the swift rush of subterranean streams, ' Its at of roses—its white clepijs: , -____ • Or like the mingled sounds of earth an air Sliimbefing like seraphaiii die air—its I..iilif . . • 'When the fierce tempest, with sonorous wing; Tolling their loves in music—and its streams Leaping and shouting from the up-piled rocks . Heaves his keep folds upon the rushing winds, And hurries onward with.his night of clouds To make earth echo with the joy of waves. . And Stammer, 'with its dews and showers, has gone; - Agaiest the eternal moentaing. 'Tie The voice . Of infant Friennou—and her stirring call • Its rainbows glowing on the distant eldud, '• Is heard and answered in a thousand tones '- Like spirits of the storm—its peaceful lakes . . From every hill - top of her western home— - Smiling in, their sweet sleep, as if their dreams . And lo! it breaks across old Ocean's flood— Wog) of the opening ilewars, and budding trees ', -,,, -, Add " Frinevore!" " FREED:tie !" is the answering And' overhanging sky—and its bright mists - •,, ~?, shout , • , -, % Resting upon the mountain tops as crowns . Upon the heads of giants. Autumn; too, -- 01 nations staffing from the spell of years. - Has gone with all itkdeeper glories—gone Th e - day-spring l—seeitis brightening in the heavens i With its green bills, like altars of the world The 'watchmeci - of the night have caught-the-sign— Lifting their fruit'efferirigs to. their God— • • prom towerto tower the Signal-fires - flash free-- Its cold winds straying mid the forest aisles . 7 - And the deep watchAVard, like the rush of seas Toles/ice their thousand wind harps—its serener, • That herslds the volcano's bursting flame . , And holy sunsets hangisto'ar the West,- , . .Is soulaing on the earth. Bright years of Hope . Like banners from.the,battleinents'efleaven— And Life are en the wing!—Y v on gllirious bow, ° --bud its still eveniegs, viten' the sea , Of Ereatlon.i,,hendetfihy the hand of God, ~ • ~ • ~W as throbbing , lis - I.lre.liying.:heart._ .. - .Is_spaniaingTime.'s.daik_sumes—its-high-arob i ' - -":" - C;if tho groat universe. , ..Ay—these • ste:rioli . • A type of Love and ,liiitey 'on the cloud ' , But. sounds , anirvisioneetthe:piet4their deep". ' ',, Te l l sAhat the, many : , etorms of human life. - . . ' Wildlbeeptihrie departed frOM thii . earth,....• ..,'- . Will Pliiiin stieetteiand the Anking waves, ~ .. Anittiiey ' aro gathered - in:the lainbrace:of Derdh,_ .'. Gathering , the forms of glory and of perm,. . • . • .••• '' 'lifteol.theitirdimnied:brightiees-oftheleavem" — Ttibit eolten'hersild tekterrifl i t3 ; L'_ -. ....;-,,-i-.t.,-,,r, --,---,-,'.. -...,, , z , •:- ~• .. , .....f':..• -. • .- -:' s• . rt.,7"-1.1 ‘l, \,;/.. ',..,..p ~„ tkV, , \ .';'..,.:. ty ~.--•...5 . 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Q,.. 1 '. 4 1ft'...4' , i - t....',`''••••'-',-.:1' 1- *-::::%,0c...'...:' , ' ..f...' .. :. 4 ''' .4 .''.k...<;' , ...:..':.. ,. .,.;'-'!..': •%'......-••,;:...-,':.'",.:-:. '). ..-,...?;:.:. .1; ..,;.:°. .;:r4:Pi.i,r,, - '',i;•--:•* , :_ . r.,,',.. - -,,i'r^'.. : ,. ?_...','%<"'l, ;':.- - '''''' ' '''' " -!!\.'.; ''‘ - ‘4., ~ • .:•'• ' ' .., : jtt` '• ' • '' ''.' '• ''•-•.':• : • ... , - , ;, , p , : , ....'';,1. 1 ; , 'A , , , , , f-,• , ' -',.. ;4.1 -, ' , .. - 4;\ , -; , ;,,, , , , . .v., [,-..,,,:::...,.. r 4;:! ~. :,-,- • , ...... ... _ . . . THE CAR `S AD `°..5~0 ~'~.~ , c4c.4.:L ; - 9 c • MOM 595701% BY GEORGE D. I:RENTICE 7TM;TI. . zx , ,lQ.ccfauacDE!r, PO JANUARY 1, 1847. , --Nor-have they -t . 01. Passion have 4( Is chill or. many a With fires that set Like angels from ' In file's youno• ' moi • The poetry ofnatui The woven sound: Upon the night an In silence to the th._ ape, That roved forever on the_bouyant winds, Like bright, starry bird of Paradise, And chanted to the ever listening heart In the wild music of a thousand tongues, Qr soai•etrinto the open sky, until • Night's heroin , * gems seemed jewelled on her brow, Has shut her Looping wino. and made her home - Ilithin the voiceless sepulchre. And Love, . That knelt at Passion's holiest shrine, and gazed On his heart's idol as on some sweet star, :Whose: purity and distance make it dear, And dreamed of ecstacies untikthis soul • Seemed but a lyre, that wakened in the glance '.ollhe..behaved one—he too is gone To hie eternal rusting place. And where Is stern Ambitiow-te who triailly•grasped At Glory!s 'Beefing phantom—he who sought His fame upon the battle-field and long - ed To make his throbd a pyramid elbones Amid rt . :3es of blood? He too has gone! His stormy voice is mute—his mighty arm , la nerveless en its clod—his very name - Is but a •meteor of the - night of•years illtioeo gloom.; flashed out a moment &el the Earth And faded into nothingness. The dream Or high devotion—beauty's bright array-- And life's-deep idol memories—allhavo passed -. Like the - clondshadows on a star-light stream, • Or a stream of soft music when the winds Are slunibering on the billow. Yet why muse Upon the past with sorrow ? Though the year .bias-gone -to-blend with - thrrn - pterious tide' Of old Eternity, and birno along Upon its heaving breast ate thousand wrecks 01 glory and of beauty—yet, why mourn. • That such is destiny? Another year Succeodeth to the past—in their bright round The seasons come and go—the same blue arch That hath hung o'er us, will hang o'er us yet— - The same pure stars that we have loved to watch Will blossom still at twilight's gentle hour, • Like lilies on the tomb of Day—and still • Man will remairi, to dream as he hath dreamed And mark the earth with passion. •Love will spring From the lone tomb of old affections—Hope, And Joy,far.d . great Ambition, will rise up ' • As they have risen—and their deeds will be Brighter than those ongraven on the 'scroll . Of parted centuries.. Even now the sea 'Of coming years,. beneath whose mighty waves Life's great events are.heaving into birth, Is tossing to and fro, as.il the winds Of Heaven were 'prisoned in its soundless depths, And struggling to-be free.' _ . M -." .r.i•.. i? _ 01 MI ; ;r I= =1 7.&4 , 41 111 ' l l 7l - A ' p. ' t* '