Monday, December 30, 2013

"1911-1912" by Annie M. Toohey (1911)



Lo, the old craft must soon drift adown the gray stream

Of Time's mystic currents, 'neath starlets agleam,

As oft 'mid its shivering passage away

Steals the voice of sweet Memory, luring its stay.

As we trace its swift course o'er the mystical stream

Strains of Spring and of Summer and Autumn yet seem

To thrill us betimes, though anon a chill blast

Strives to wreck the old craft ere its voyage be past.

And though its dim masts are all rent by the wind,

A lingering garland around them entwined

Of Christmastide blossoms yet sweetly we trace,

Ere the new craft shall launch in its beauty and grace.

Though treasures sank mute 'mid its drifting away,

As lonely lips pleaded them longer to stay,

To-night o'er the shadowy wreck of the old

We send them love-greetings in yonder blest fold.

Farewell, fading craft! At thy moorings beyond

May thy nearing be greeted by ecstasies fond,

That never shall cease at the harbor of Time,

Whose shoreland of glory re-echoes with chime.

Troy Times. December 30, 1911: 10 col 1.

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