years--
The Seasons close followed, in mourning and tears.

Arrayed in his armor, death-darts in his hand,
The grim King of Terrors strode on with the band,
While cold, stark and ghastly, there lay on his bier
The death-stricken form of the hoary OLD YEAR!
How bent was his figure, how furrowed his brow,
How weary he looked from his pilgrimage now!
The phantoms of Passion, of Hope and Despair,
With dark, waving plumage, encircled him there;
The Months stood around, and the bright dancing Hours
On spirit-wings floated, like birds among flowers.

A voice sweet as music now smote on my ear:
'Go forth in thy beauty, thou unspotted Year!
The old Year hath died 'mid rejoicings and mirth,
That rocked the stern heart of the rugged old Earth!
The midnight is passing; away to thy car!
Thou'lt sail by the lustre of morning's bright star;
Away!' And I rose from the bosom of Time,
And fled through the gates of that shadowy clime;
My car sped along on the wings of the wind,
While Winter, old man! tottered slowly behind.

The sky's eastern portals impeded my flight,
When Morning rose up from the arms of the Night;
The dawn faintly glowed, and I saw the old Earth,
And sailed in my kingdom, a monarch at birth!
'Then give me wild music, the dance and the song,
For ever!' I shouted, while whirling along:
'I have come, I have come from a shadowy clime,
A breath of the monarch Earth's children call TIME!'

_Cincinnati, December, 1843._

ON COLOUR.

Full angel-like the birdis sang their hours[1]
Within their curtains green, within their bowers
Apparelled with white and red, with bloomys sweet.
Enamell'd was the field with all colours:
The pearlit drops shook as in silver showers,
While all in balm did branche and leavis fleit.[2]
Depart fra' Phoebus did Aurora greit;
Her chrystal tears I saw hing on the flowers
Which he, for love, all drank up with his heat.

DUNBAR.

[1] Heures, prayers.
[2] Float.

1. The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me
beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul.

A PSALM OF DAVID.

As I walk over the surface of this fair Earth, an erring and a wayward