{"newspaper_name": "New-York daily tribune.", "edition": "01", "page": "p4", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 1358, "word_count": 241, "ccnet_language_score": [0.8919000029563904], "ccnet_perplexity": [1946.800048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Thine errsnd hath been well performed
IF nearer thou hast brought the time
When hearts, by love celestial warmed,
One creed maintain in every cline;
When forts are leveled with the dust,
Gun, blade and lance the prey OF rust
And war.Hags darkly furled,
Drum, plume and helm are styled at last
Tho mildewed lumber of the Past,
Wrecks of a darkened world.


VII.
Rest, Traveller the goal is won
The cross of peace is on thy breast;
Thy task of good and i'll is done,
Forevermore in shadeland rest!
Thy morn of blossoms passed away.
Vanished thy blushing fruits, and gray
Became thy golden hair;
Why mourn for thee, Departed Year
In cloud and darkness thy career
Closed, though it promised fair.


VIII
The robins hymn was wild and sweet
Where harshly croaks the raven dark,
And icy fails the meadow beat
Where woke, at dawn, the lyric lark.
Ah frozen is the fount that gushed
In music from the rock, and hushed
The runnels murmur low
Pale forms along the mountain side,
Mad Cavalry of Winter ride
Through whiring clouds Of snow.
Though newly-woven is thy pail,
By midnight Ghost thy knell just runs,
Within glittering palace hall
Enthroned is thy successor young
Huzzas that hail the newborn King
Make discord in the lay sing,
And much must be untold
With pale hands clasped upon thy breast
Rest in the Land of Shadows. rest
Forever, Pilgrim old!
aaxary, 1886.