Constitutional Whig

We copy the following lines from the address on the New Year to the patrons of the Rochester Telegraph. They are characterized by an unusual strength of thought and expression.--N. Y. Argus.

How unobserv'd days, months, and years drop down
Upon us, and pass on! -Another year
Now takes his farewell of the breathing world:
But ere its vanish, like a fleeting shade,
Dimly retiring from the gazing eye
Into the nothingness impalpable
Of all the past, a moment call it back;
And question it. Thou shapeless form--
Thou fleeting "portion of what men call time,
Pause ere thou haste to chronicle events,
And join the shadows of returnless years:
Oh, pause and say, as thou hast glanc'd o'er earth,
What hast thou seen? The phantom fades--the eye
Hath lost it--but a low and solemn voice
Comes from the darkness on the listening ear!
Bold questioner! what askest thou of earth?
I've seen the seasons, as they mov'd in still
And beautiful succession over it:-
First Winter stalk'd; and as he pass'd, his breath
Congeal'd the rivers: from his cloudy locks
He shook the tempest forth! The soft-ey'd Spring
Came forth in loveliness-in smiles
And tears she pass'd, while thousand voices, wak'n
At her approach, shouted her onward. Then
Bright, glowing Summer with her matron pace,
And melancholy Autumn. So they pass
But chief I mark'd the restless race of man -
Their hopes, and aims, as various as their fate!
'They rise, and strive a moment, and are gone!
Some, whom my eye first met, in the gay morn
Of life and happiness, dropped from my view:
And mid the sweetness of their fresh-blown hopes,
Were seen no more. Some, from the bed of pain
And languishment, let go their hold on life
With gladness, and were borne away to rest:
While some, with age-bleach'd locks, still turning looks
Of fond regret upon the long dim track
Of former years, even while they gaz'd, sunk down,
And the cold, starless night of death closed round them!
I've seen--I've seen "grin-visag'd" war lead forth
Blood-red legions; and before his look,
Rush like dead leaves before the blast
Human. Peace, thou of shadowy voice,
Thou hast seen naught new, and all the years
That flowest in thy flight shall tell thee so.
Generations, from the birth of Time,
Like the waves of mighty Amazon,
Roll'd, and shall roll on, each urging each
To the viewless ocean of the dead!
But what thou, Time? Oh! who can comprehend
Thy mysterious being? bearing all
In heightening speed upon thy silent wing,
Arrest on sun, moon, and stars, thy
Motionless! Unchang'd, though changest all!
That same youthful arm, whose force struck down
Towers of Babylon and Ninevah,
Still undecay'd exalts, and puts down empires!
That eye of thine, whose smile welcom'd the sun
From darkness, shall behold, undimin'd, his beams
Rise. Thou too, they say, must die. Oh Time!
Thou art a fearful mystery--and yet,
Ye sport with thee as a familiar thing!