'uUallVJ'aV ' 'UV31ITJ 3\ Ofi^ s? oui -juj/\inii : ^ME-DNIVER^. 1 i 1 I <~> "^ ^ 5 \\\E I'NIVERS/A ,v-lOSANGElfj]> . ST *^ ^^^ ^ I i S s I * I a I 8 I s o ^V\E-UNIVER% ^ I 1 I 1 S 3 P. iinri ^ ^ r t-fc-J ? ^ S I i I \\\EUNIVER% & I I ^Jt\E-UNIVERS/A * p ^* p lOSANCElfj> ?n I 1 I. = ni .dfcLIBRARYQ^ i Si ir^i - 3 i i S ^EUNIVER% 1 1 %OJI1V3-JO^ ,OF-CALIFO% * THANATOPSIS n. THE FLOOD OF YEARS BY //'////.-/.I/ CULLEN IlRYANT ILLUSTRATED fu- ll'. J. LIN TON N I-, n ' ) '(-A' A" G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS iSj I-'ifih Avenue 1878-9 PS llU Al 1371 THANA TO PS IS. G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS : NEW YORK _J THE ILLUSTRATIONS - INDEBTEDNESS acknowledged to David Scott and William Blake and (almost unknown as an artist) Isaac Taylor, the author of The Natural History of Enthusiasm, The Physical Theory of Another Life, etc. Designed and engraved by YV. J. LINTON. THANATOPSIS. TO HIM who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Under the open sky. Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart ; Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around Earth and her waters, and the depths of air Comes a still voice Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, In the cold ground. Where thy pale form is laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourish'd thee, shall claim Thy growth to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world with kings, The powerful of the earth the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills Rock-ribb'd, and ancient as the sun, the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks (Unto dust shalt thou return. Gen. 3 : 19.) That make the meadows green ; and, pour'd round Old Ocean's grey and melancholy waste, [all, Are but the solemn decorations all I . Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, I Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread ; The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods : Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings yet the dead are there ; Old ocean's grey and melancholy waste. And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living and no friend Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase reign there. Exodus 12 : 30. ! His favorite phantom : yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train ( Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, The speechless babe, and the grey-headed man, Shall one by one be gather'd to thy side, By those who, in their turn, shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, The Shadoiu of Death. Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustain'd and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who draws the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. WlLLJAMCULLEN pRYANJ NEW YORK G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 1873 COPYRIGHT BY P. PUTNAM'S SONS. THE ILLUSTRATIONS I ) I : SIC, X !: D A X D E X G R A V E D BY W. J. LIXTON. i A MIGHTY HAND, from an exhaustless urn, Pours forth the never-ending Flood of Years Among the nations. How the rushing waves Bear all before them ! On their foremost edge, And there alone, is Life ; the Present there Tosses and foams and fills the air with roar Of mingled noises. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. There are they who toil, And they who strive, and they who feast, and they Who hurry to and fro. The sturdy hind Woodman and delver with the spade are there, And busy artisan beside his bench, And pallid student with his written roll. A moment on the mounting billow seen The flood sweeps over them and they are gone. There groups of revelers, whose brows are twined With roses, ride the topmost swell awhile, The sturdy hind^woodman and delver with the sf>aih-are t/i THE FLOOD OF YEARS. And as they raise their flowing cups to touch The clinking brim to brim, are whirled beneath The waves and disappear. I hear the jar Of beaten drums, and thunders that break forth From cannon, where the advancing billow sends Up to the sight long files of armed men, That hurry to the charge through flame and smoke. The torrent bears them under, whelmed and hid, Slayer and slain, in heaps of bloody foam. Down go the steed and rider ; the plumed chief Sinks with his followers ; the head that wears The imperial diadem goes down beside The felon's with cropped ear and branded cheek. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. A funeral train the torrent sweeps away Bearers and bier and mourners. By the bed Of one who dies men gather sorrowing, And women weep aloud ; the flood rolls on ; The wail is stifled, and the sobbing group Borne under. Hark to that shrill sudden shout ./ The cry of an applauding multitude Swayed by some loud-tongued orator, who wields The living mass as if he were its soul. The waters choke the shout and all is still. Lo, next, a kneeling crowd and one who spreads The hands in prayer ; the engulfing wave o'ertakes And swallows them and him. 7 HE FLOOD OF YEARS. A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty ; at his easel, eager-eyed, A painter stands, and sunshine at his touch Gathers upon the canvas, and life glows ; A poet, as he paces to and fro, Murmurs his sounding lines. Awhile they ride The advancing billow, till its tossing crest Strikes them and flings them under while their tasks Are yet unfinished. See a mother smile On her young babe that smiles to her again The torrent wrests it from her arms ; she shrieks, And weeps, and midst her tears is carried down. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. A beam like that of moonlight turns the spray To glistening pearls ; two lovers, hand in hand, Rise on the billowy swell and fondly look Into each other's eyes. The rushing flood Flings them apart ; the youth goes down ; the maid, With hands outstretched in vain and streaming eyes, Waits for the next high wave to follow him. An aged man succeeds ; his bending form Sinks slowly ; mingling with the sullen stream Gleam the white locks and then are seen no more. Lo, wider grows the stream ; a sea-like flood Saps earth's walled cities ; massive palaces Crumble before it ; fortresses and towers THE FLOOD OF YEARS. Dissolve in the swift waters ; populous realms Swept by the torrent, see their ancient tribes Engulfed and lost, their very languages Stifled and never to be uttered more. I pause and turn my eyes and, looking back, Where that tumultuous flood has passed, I see The silent Ocean of the Past, a waste Of waters weltering over graves, its shores Strewn with the wreck of fleets, where mast and hull Drop away piecemeal ; battlemented walls Frown idly, green with moss, and temples stand Unroofed, forsaken by the worshippers. There lie memorial stones, whence time has gnawed The graven legends, thrones of kings o'erturned, The broken altars of forgotten gods, THE FLOOD OF YEARS. Foundations of old cities, and long streets Where never fall of human foot is heard Upon the desolate pavement. I behold Dim glimmerings of lost jewels far within The sleeping waters, diamond, sardonyx, Ruby and topaz, pearl and chrysolite, Once glittering at the banquet on fair brows That long ago were dust ; and all around, Strewn on the waters of that silent sea, Are withering bridal wreaths, and glossy locks Shorn from fair brows by loving hands, and scrolls O'erwritten, haply with fond words of love And vows of friendship and fair pages flung Fresh from the printer's engine. There they lie A moment and then sink away from sight. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. \ look, and the quick tears are in my eyes, For I behold, in every one of these, A blighted hope, a separate history Of human sorrow, telling of dear ties Suddenly broken, dreams of happiness Dissolved in air, and happy days, too brief, That sorrowfully ended, and I think How painfully must the poor heart have beat In bosoms without number, as the blow Was struck that slew their hope or broke their peace. Sadly I turn, and look before, where yet The Flood must pass, and I behold a mist THE FLOOD OF YEARS. Where swarm dissolving forms, the brood of Hope, Divinely fair, that rest on banks of flowers Or wander among rainbows, fading soon And reappearing, haply giving place To shapes of grisly aspect, such as Fear Molds from the idle air ; where serpents lift The head to strike, and skeletons stretch forth The bony arm in menace. Further on A belt of darkness seems to bar the way, Long, low and distant, where the Life that Is Touches the Life to Come. The Flood of Years Rolls toward it, near and nearer. It must pass That dismal barrier. What is there beyond ? Hear what the wise and good have said. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. Beyond That belt of darkness still the years roll on More gently, but with not less mighty sweep. They gather up again and softly bear All the sweet lives that late were overwhelmed And lost to sight all that in them was good, Noble, and truly great and worthy of love The lives of infants and ingenuous youths, Sages and saintly women who have made Their households happy all are raised and borne By that great current in its onward sweep, Wandering and rippling with caressing waves Around green islands, fragrant with the breath Of flowers that never wither. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. So they pass, From stage to stage, along the shining course Of that fair river broadening like a sea. As its smooth eddies curl along their way, They bring old friends together ; hands are clasped In joy unspeakable ; the mother's arms Again are folded round the child she loved And lost. Old sorrows are forgotten now, Or but remembered to make sweet the hour That overpays them ; wounded hearts that bled Or broke are healed forever. THE FLOOD OF YEARS. In the room Of this grief-shadowed Present there shall be A Present in whose reign no grief shall gnaw The heart, and never shall a tender tie Be broken in whose reign the eternal Change That waits on growth and action shall proceed With everlasting Concord hand in hand. fflOY. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELES =p I -LJLJ , UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. & ^OF'CAUFO "" 41584 3? ai rj lira uw 3 ^LIBRARY^ $UIBH 3 1158 lOSANCElfj E 3 * ^ S ^ I Ml rj? ^ OT^ & S tYQc -AtUBRARYQc A\\EUNIVER% iisi:s ^-LIBRARY