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Poems (Curwen)/The Year of the Jubilee

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4489690Poems — The Year of the JubileeAnnie Isabel Curwen
The Year of Jubilee.
A RETROSPECT.

Old Time has rung the curtain down
On the departed year,
With Nature's sympathetic face
Bent on its rain-drenched bier.

Ah, me! how swift its days have flown,
With all their hopes and fears;
Now days, weeks, months, are garnered in
The great storehouse of years.

They lie upon its threshing floor,
With all their good and ill,
Awaiting their appointed hour
For passing thro' God's mill.

Oh! 'tis a strange soul-stirring thought,
What if we've lived in vain?
What, if in sifting sheaves of ours,
God finds no golden grain.

For eighteen hundred ninety-seven?
Thank heav'n 'tis not too late;
New fields of labour wait for all
In eighteen ninety-eight.

Fresh opportunities are given
To each to start anew;
But here we think of future days,
Let us the past review.

The year that has just passed away,
All classes will agree,
Has been a most momentous one
In English history.

Our good Queen's Diamond Jubilee—
God bless her! all will say—
On June the twenty-second, was
The great red letter day.

Then one and all, both old and young,
Of rich and poor degree,
Were one in heart and mind, to show
Their love and loyalty.

Old London saw a pageant then,
A grander ne'er's been seen,
Nobilities from every clime
Paid homage to our Queen.

One common bond united all,
One toast on sea and shore,
The great Victoria's honoured name
Revered the wide world o'er.

In darkest contrast, India stood
A death's head at our feast;
Famine and plague, twin horrors, they,
Were raging in the East.

And war, and rumoured wars, e'en then
Were knocking at our door;
We heard above our songs of joy
The cannon's distant roar.

A baleful influence seemed at work
Both upon land and sea;
For floods, fires, storms, combined to mar
Our year of jubilee.

The engineers' lock-out, too, cast
Its shadow far and wide;
And many hapless homes have been
In want this Christmastide.

Heaven grant a speedy settlement,
And may we live to see
Labour and capital go hand
In hand harmoniously.

Grave interests are at stake; we need
The wisdom of a seer,
To safely guide the National barque
Throughout the coming year.

Born amid universal strife,
Who can prognosticate
The issues of events which lie
In eighteen ninety-eight?

Would God, all strife and discord might
Cease now, for evermore;
And peace with this new year be born
On every troubled shore.