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Poems (Hoffman)/The Years

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4567015Poems — The YearsMartha Lavinia Hoffman
THE YEARS

Stay, stay, sweet Years, bright circling golden Years
With your glad Summers full of sunbeam smiles
And sobbing Winters wet with raindrop tears,
Your pensive Autumns and the witching wiles
Of Spring-time days, showers, sunbeams, hopes and fears
Weave your fair coronets, ye fleeting Years!

Ah, is it true that ye will come between,
Like a vast, heedless, hurrying multitude,
Between us and the faces that we love,
Crowding us farther, farther, still apart,
Hiding them from us by a darkening screen?
O Years, bright golden Years, must ye intrude
At last in endless bitterness to prove
A mighty barrier, 'twixt heart and heart?

Stay, hurrying Years, why speed away so fast?
Rest your bright wings, for we are happy now,
Ye mock us, for ye say, "It cannot last."
Are Youth's fresh hopes but idle, feverish dreams
That like bright bubbles only soar to break?
Leave us the present, all too fair it seems—
If dreams are happiness why should we wake?

Already are your dazzling rainbow hues
Changing to pallid spectres grim and gaunt.
Bright Years, will ye your bloom and beauty lose
And like pale ghostly forms life's pathway haunt?
Will ye plow furrows, hard, unlovely lines
Where ruby roses blush and mingle now
With pearly lilies, fragile tenderness,
On lips and cheek and brow?
Will ye crush out with careless, ruthless tread
The tender embryoes that spring to life
In countless crevices of heart and soul,
That Love hath nurtured and that Hope hath fed
That where weeds grew there might be flowers instead?

Will ye break in like thieves in rayless night
And steal the diamonds one by one away
That flashed from Love's bright ring their varying light
'Till all are gone whom we had hoped might stay?
Ah! will ye prey upon life's youthful tree
'Till flower and fruit and leaf are in decay
'Till the life fluid surging in its heart
With such fresh, ardent living energy
Is quenched, its channels parched, its fountain dry
'Till all it was or promised still to be
With branches reaching even to the sky
Down in the fossil depths of earth is thrown
To petrify and harden into stone?
O beauteous Years, if only these ye leave
Take, take the gentle sentiments that grieve,
Let not the blows that all have overthrown
Leave one faint wound upon the heart's cold stone!

But no, bright Years, Faith, Mercy, Hope declare
False are the prophecies of veiled Despair
Who whispers: "Oh, the Years are flying fast
Ye now are happy but it cannot last;"
They sing, with folded wings above the heart,
"Faith, Mercy, Love and Hope will not depart
The Years can have no power to make thee old
The warm deep springs of Love shall not grow cold;
Mercy shall drop her dew in blessing down,
True Happiness braid still her blossom crown
Hope's fadeless star outshines Heaven's brightest spheres
And Faith, the angel of the tide of years,
Points out beyond Time's fog and mystery
The boundless ocean of eternity."

Surge on bright Years, ye are but waves that tend
To bear us nearer to our journey's end;
When we look back our life's appointed way
Will we regret that ye refused to stay?
All that ye bear away we yet shall find,—
The jewels to thy murky depths consigned,
The blossoms tossed so swiftly from our sight,
All that was beautiful and good and bright
Are borne before us through Time's dark defiles
To wait our coming 'midst the fadeless isles.