Thursday, April 15, 2010

Part Three: Metaphors and Description from the 1850 Journals of Daniel Rockwell Taylor

Dec. l, 1850
The “Old Man of the Poles” has made his first bow today and a clear, warm, sunny face has he brought with him.

Dec. 8th
Yesterday was a dark, cold day: this sabbath morn the Sun arose in a clear sky. The Old elms were coated with ice and O how a Million Diamonds from every tree danced in the merry breezes and sparkled like as the coronets do now in the Brow of Night: with what purity and intensity of love do they behold the rolling world in their pride from their eternal mansions.

The Harp of Heaven is hasting down the western slope of the sky. O joyous stars infuse a holy joy into my breast. Be my guardian angel and I will flee forth.

Dec.27th Merry Christmas has again come and gone with its clouds of thrilling remembrances. Oh! How the eye of youth used to brighten and all the world seemed one vast apple bin of delight

Far out upon the battlements of Time stands the recording Angel of the swift rolling Years with that dread Trumpet which Heralds their Departure into the dim, dark gulf of Eternity.

The fires are faintly flickering upon the alters of 1850 soon, very soon to go out forever. The stars hide their lovely faces in the cold sky. They would not look upon the dying agonies of the Old year whose Birth they so fondly gazed upon. Hark! Upon the startled ear falls the Death Knell! Of 1850! Solemnly echoing through the dark Midnight : across the hoary deep and continents vast and wide.

Gone? Ay! Forever! And the youthful, fair and rosy New Year comes laughing in: Bright Hope sparkles: his steps are light and free and joyous.

Memory! Thou sign of the Past! Light up the scenes of the Departed Year! When first I gazed upon thy ruddy cheeks the waves of Lake Michigan in their boisterous revelry sound in mine ears and they sang the Jubilee: now the hoarse voice of the ATLANTIC chants thy Requiem. The Seasons have run their golden round; Spring came from Eden’s bowers, attired in robes of purest green. Music gushed from the bustling groves and Love and Graces, girdled and wreathed with “wild-wood flowers” went dancing over the fields.


Pat said...

'All the world seemed one vast apple bin of delight"--I love this! Daniel seems like such an interesting person.

I hope that after reading these three blog stories, you also feel like you know your ancestor ( in my case, my great great grandfather) better!

CB said...

Remember that this type of writing was not unusual for the time. Those who were considered [or considered themselves!] to be intelligent or "HIGH CLASS" spoke thusly and God was ever present in their writings.
Aunt Florence, his grandaughter said he was very stern and cold. He surely had emotions tho!!