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Show "My New Year's Guests" ROLLIN M. DAGGETT founded the Golden Era in San Francisco in the fifties. He was long editor of the Territorial Enterprise in Virginia City, Nev., later he was a represen- H tative in Congress from Nevada, later still waa 1 United States minister to Hawaii and then a M special writer on tho San Francisco Chronicle, up M to the time of his death, about eight years ago. M He was an all-'round genius, and a very great M journalist. He wrote the poem which is printed m below. Of late there have been many inquiries M for it, and we are sure that its publication will B be gratefully hailed by thousands on this coast H who knew Daggett personally or by reputation, H or who know a good thing when they see it. It H is as follows: H MY NEW YEAR'S GUESTS. H (Scene. A chamber in Virginia City, one of H the pictures on the wall being the reduced photo- H graphs of over flvo hundred California pioneers H of 1849.) H Time. Midnight, December 31, 1881. H The wind comes cold from the southward, with B incense of fir and pine, H And the flying clouds grow darker as they halt H and fall in line. H The valleys that reach the deserts, mountains that H greet tho clouds, H Lie bare in the arms of winter, which the prud- H ish night enshrouds. L The leafless sage on the hillside, the willow 3 H low down the stream, HT And the sentry rock above us, have faded all as L a dream. H " The fall of the stamp grows fainter; the voices H of night sink low; T And, spelled from labor, the miner toils home H through the drifting snow. L As I sit alone in my chamber this last of the H dying year, H Dim shades of the past surround me, and faint H through the storm I hear Old tales of the castles builded under shelving H rock and pine, H Of the bearded men and stalwart I greeted in H 'Forty-nine; Hj The giants with hopes audacious; the giants of H iron limb; H The giants who journeyed westward when the H trails were new and dim; H The giants who felled the forests, made path- H ways o'er the snows, H And planted the vine and fig-tree where the H manzanita grows; H "Who swept down the mountain gorges and H painted their endless night H With their cabins, rudely fashioned, and their H camp-fires' ruddy light; H Who builded great towns and cities, -who swung H back the Golden Gate, H And hewed from the mighty ashlar the form of a 1 sovereign State; H. Who came like a flood of waters to a thirsty m desert plain, H And where there had been no reapers, grew H valleys of golden grain. H " 'No wonder that this strange music sweeps in H from the silent past, H And comes with this storm this evening, and H blonds its strains with the blast; H Nor wonder that through the darkness should H enter a spectral throng, H And gather around my table with tue old-time H smile and song; H For there on the wall before me, in a frame of H gilt and brown, H With a chain of years suspended, old faces are H looking down; H Five hundred, all grouped together five hundred H old pioneers, H Now list as I raise the taper and trace the steps H of t'le years; H " 'Behold this face near the center; We met 'ere his locks were gray; His purse like his heart was open; he struggles for bread today. " 'To this one the fates were cruel; but he bore 'his burden well, And the willow bends in sorrow by the wayside where he fell. " 'Great losses and grief crazed this one; great riches turned this one's head; And a faithless wife wrecked this one he lives, but were better dead. i " 'Now closer the light on this face; 'twas wrinkled when we were young; His torch drew our footsteps westward; his name is on every tongue; Rich was he in lands and kindness, but the human hu-man deluge came And left him at last with nothing but death and a deathless fame. " ' 'Twas a kindly hand that grouped them these faces of other years The rich and the poor together the hopes, and the smiles, and the tears Of some of the fearless hundreds, who went F like the knights of old, The banner of empire bearing, to the land of blue and gold. " 'For years have I watched these shadows, as others I know have done; As death touched their lips with silence, I have draped them one by one, Till, seen where the dark-plumed Angel has mingled them here and there, The brows I have flecked with sable the living cloud everywhere. " 'Darker and darker and darker these shadows will yearly grow, As, changing, the seasons bring us the bud and the falling snow; And soon let me not invoke it! the final prayer will be said, And strangers will write the record: 'The last of the group is dead.' " 'And then but why stand here gazing? A gathering storm in my eyes Is mocking the weeping tempest that billows the midnight skies; And, stranger still is it fancy? are my senses dazed and weak? The shadowy lips are moving as if they would ope and speak; And I seem to hear low whispers, and catch the echo of strains That rose from the golden gu'.ches and followed the moving trains. " 'The scent of the sage and desert, the path o'er the rocky height, The shallow graves by the roadside all, all have come back tonight; And the mildewed years, like stubble, I trample under my feet, And drink again at the fountain 'when the wine of life was sweet; And I stand once more exalted where the white pine frets the skies, And dream in the winding canyon where early the twilight dies. Now the eyes look down in sadness. The pulse of the year beats low; The storm has been awed to silence; the muffled hands of the snow, Like the noiseless feet of mourners, are spreading spread-ing a pallid sheet O'er the breast of dead December and glazing the shroud with sleet. B "'Hark! the bells arc chiming midnight; the H storm bends Its list'ning enr, H While the moon looks through the cloud-rifts H and blesses the new-born year. H " 'And now the faces are smiling. "What augury H can it be? H No matter; the hours in passing will fashion the H years for me. H '"Bar closely the curtained windows; shut the M light from every pane, B While, free from the world's intrusion and curi- M ous eyes profane, H I take from its leathern casket a dinted old cup H M More precious to me than silver, and blessing the M draught within, H I drink alone in silence to the Builders of the H West H " 'Long-life to the hearts still beating, and peace H to the hearts at rest.' " |