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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420748" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The New Year</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE wave is breaking on the shore,<br>The echo fading from the chime;<br>Again the shadow moveth o'er<br>The dial-plate of time!<br>O seer-seen Angel! waiting now<br>With weary feet on sea and shore,<br>Impatient for the last dread vow<br>That time shall be no more!<br>Once more across thy sleepless eye<br>The semblance of a smile has passed:<br>The year departing leaves more nigh<br>Time's fearfullest and last.<br>Oh, in that dying year hath been<br>The sum of all since time began;<br>The birth and death, the joy and pain,<br>Of Nature and of Man.<br>Spring, with her change of sun and shower,<br>And streams released from Winter's chain,<br>And bursting bud, and opening flower,<br>And greenly growing grain;<br>And Summer's shade, and sunshine warm,<br>And rainbows o'er her hill-tops bowed,<br>And voices in her rising storm;<br>God speaking from His cloud!<br>And Autumn's fruits and clustering sheaves,<br>And soft, warm days of golden light,<br>The glory of her forest leaves,<br>And harvest-moon at night;<br>And Winter with her leafless grove,<br>And prisoned stream, and drifting snow,<br>The brilliance of her heaven above<br>And of her earth below:<br>And man, in whom an angel's mind<br>With earth's low instincts finds abode,<br>The highest of the links which bind<br>Brute nature to her God;<br>His infant eye hath seen the light,<br>His childhood's merriest laughter rung,<br>And active sports to manlier might<br>The nerves of boyhood strung!<br>And quiet love, and passion's fires,<br>Have soothed or burned in manhood's breast,<br>And lofty aims and low desires<br>By turns disturbed his rest.<br>The wailing of the newly-born<br>Has mingled with the funeral knell;<br>And o'er the dying's ear has gone<br>The merry marriage-bell.<br>And Wealth has filled his halls with mirth,<br>While Want, in many a humble shed,<br>Toiled, shivering by her cheerless hearth,<br>The live-long night for bread.<br>And worse than all, the human slave,<br>The sport of lust, and pride, and scorn!<br>Plucked off the crown his Maker gave,<br>His regal manhood gone!<br>Oh, still,my country! o'er thy plains,<br>Blackened with slavery's blight and ban,<br>That human chattel drags his chains,<br>An uncreated man!<br>And still, where'er to sun and breeze,<br>My country, is thy flag unrolled,<br>With scorn, the gazing stranger sees<br>A stain on every fold.<br>Oh, tear the gorgeous emblem down!<br>It gathers scorn from every eye,<br>And despots smile and good men frown<br>Whene'er it passes by.<br>Shame! shame! its starry splendors glow<br>Above the slaver's loathsome jail;<br>Its folds are ruffling even now<br>His crimson flag of sale.<br>Still round our country's proudest hall<br>The trade in human flesh is driven,<br>And at each careless hammer-fall<br>A human heart is riven.<br>And this, too, sanctioned by the men<br>Vested with power to shield the right,<br>And throw each vile and robber den<br>Wide open to the light.<br>Yet, shame upon them! there they sit,<br>Men of the North, subdued and still;<br>Meek, pliant poltroons, only fit<br>To work a master's will.<br>Sold, bargained off for Southern votes,<br>A passive herd of Northern mules,<br>Just braying through their purchased throats<br>Whate'er their owner rules.<br>And he,2 the basest of the base<br>The vilest of the vile, whose name,<br>Embalmed in infinite disgrace,<br>Is deathless in its shame!<br>A tool, to bolt the people's door<br>Against the people clamoring there,<br>An ass, to trample on their floor<br>A people's right of prayer!<br>Nailed to his self-made gibbet fast,<br>Self-pilloried to the public view,<br>A mark for every passing blast<br>Of scorn to whistle through;<br>There let him hang, and hear the boast<br>Of Southrons o'er their pliant tool, —<br>A new Stylites on his post,<br>'Sacred to ridicule!'<br>Look we at home! our noble hall,<br>To Freedom's holy purpose given,<br>Now rears its black and ruined wall,<br>Beneath the wintry heaven,<br>Telling the story of its doom,<br>The fiendish mob, the prostrate law,<br>The fiery jet through midnight's gloom,<br>Our gazing thousands saw.<br>Look to our State! the poor man's right<br>Torn from him: and the sons of those<br>Whose blood in Freedom's sternest fight<br>Sprinkled the Jersey snows,<br>Outlawed within the land of Penn,<br>That Slavery's guilty fears might cease,<br>And those whom God created men<br>Toil on as brutes in peace.<br>Yet o'er the blackness of the storm<br>A bow of promise bends on high,<br>And gleams of sunshine, soft and warm,<br>Break through our clouded sky.<br>East, West, and North, the shout is heard,<br>Of freemen rising for the right:<br>Each valley hath its rallying word,<br>Each hill its signal light.<br>O'er Massachusetts' rocks of gray,<br>The strengthening light of freedom shines,<br>Rhode Island's Narragansett Bay,<br>And Vermont's snow-hung pines!<br>From Hudson's frowning palisades<br>To Alleghany's laurelled crest,<br>O'er lakes and prairies, streams and glades,<br>It shines upon the West.<br>Speed on the light to those who dwell<br>In Slavery's land of woe and sin,<br>And through the blackness of that hell,<br>Let Heaven's own light break in.<br>So shall the Southern conscience quake<br>Before that light poured full and strong,<br>So shall the Southern heart awake<br>To all the bondman's wrong.<br>And from that rich and sunny land<br>The song of grateful millions rise,<br>Like that of Israel's ransomed band<br>Beneath Arabians skies:<br>And all who now are bound beneath<br>Our banner's shade, our eagle's wing,<br>From Slavery's night of moral death<br>To light and life shall spring.<br>Broken the bondman's chain, and gone<br>The master's guilt, and hate, and fear,<br>And unto both alike shall dawn<br>A New and Happy Year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420748" data-title="The New Year de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="THE wave is breaking on the shore,
The echo fading from the chime;
Again the shadow moveth o'er
The dial-plate of time!
O seer-seen Angel! waiting now
With weary feet on sea and shore,
Impatient for the last dread vow
That time shall be no more!
O..."></div>
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