NEW YEAR'S ODE—1866

T HE Old must perish that the New may live,
And what the Old hath lacked, the New shall give.
The bugle’s bray and crash of rolling drums
Have ceased to weary, and the New Year comes
Laden with promise, rich with budding hopes
Of all men value most, while treason gropes
In outer darkness, striving still to save
Some barbarous relic from its traitor grave,
Fierce to oppress, eager to crush the right,
Arrogant still, though baffled in the fight,
Sullenly pettifogging for the wrong,
And slow to common justice. Not for long
Shall this endure; the nation’s blood has bought
The precious boon of liberty, and naught
That treason dares or foreign foes may do
Shall bar its progress. As the years run through
Their changing seasons, brighter still shall grow
The radiant goddess Freedom, who, although
Her path be strewn with wrecks and martyrs’ bones,
Shall still march on o’er empires, kings and thrones.

Ring out to-day a merry peal
From every belfry in the land,
Till every child may understand
And every loyal heart shall feel
That Freedom has a truer birth,
A prouder right; and we may claim
The foremost place, the highest name
Among the nations of the earth.

Our bitter trial days are past;
And rich red blood that flowed like rain
Has not been poured to earth in vain.
Peace settles on the land at last,
And yule logs burn, while those who grieve
Shall gather round the Christmas fires
Where gladdened mothers, sons and sires,
Meet on this happy New Year’s eve.

To-night beneath the glinting stars
Full many a voice shall ring with mirth,
While gathered round the social hearth
We half forget the nation’s scars.
And many a mother’s lip shall smile
Whose heart is with the dead to-night,
And many a maiden’s eye grow bright
Whose soul is sick with grief the while.