The year is up! Its hours have fled,
Old Time his year-glass turning,
Its passing days are marked with red
In blood stains of the worthy dead,
Their patriot ardor burning.

The year is up – the rebel strife
With scenes of woe attended,
The wildering din, the loss of life,
The muffled drum, the screaming fife –
We trust are well nigh ended.

Kind friends, we greet you once again
We have no wish to tease you,
We only say, with might and main,
In heat and cold, in wind and rain,
We’ve struggled hard to please you.

We wish you all a happy year
Of joys and blessing many,
Of love from all who hold you dear,
A year of peace and great good cheer,
And not of grief to any.

We’ve brought the paper to your door,
In Summer’s sun and Winter’s,
We’ve told the truth, and sometimes more,
Of modern deeds and ancient lore,
Just as it pleased the printers.

We’ve told you all that’s done and said
And who has done the fighting,
The name of those who fought and bled,
The poisoned fangs of Copperhead
The nation’s prospect blighting.

Of pleasant scenes of peace and home
The news we’ve often carried,
Of those who go and those who come,
Of friends in town, and those who roam,
And couples who have married.
We’ve told you of the Railroad scheme,
Who did the engineering,
Who laid the track, who drove the team,
And how the ladies raised a scream,
When cars were out of gearing.

We might have told who planned the route
The rails in order keeping,
Who viewed the track and laid it out
And knocked the little stones about,
By nice and careful sweeping.

To WHITE the public thanks are due
Who kept the cars from jumping!
He watched the track and swept it too,
And saved the bones of many of you
From hard and heavy thumping.

And yet alas! He got no thanks
For these good operations,
But says he’ll let them play their pranks,
For he can go on his own shanks
In spite of corporations.

But Sam is modest and polite
And does what he’s inclined to,
He’s slow to boast, but brave to fight, 
And always does the thing that’s right,
Because he has a mind to.
 

Few men like him can turn the wheel
That grinds the corn of knowledge;
So gentle friends, you well may feel
The grain he grinds makes better meal
Than much that comes from college.

He does the work, all this is plain
By every thing that’s proper,
While others but prepare the grain
By dint of pen and ink and brain,
And put it in the hopper.
Tis he who pines the words that tell
And not the penny-a-liner,
He turns the wheel, with wizard spell
To grind and the grain and bake it well.
Our skillful SAMUEL QUINER.

Tis thus he makes his mental bread
If well the dough is kneaded,
He has a wizard skill, ‘tis said,
That all his patrons may be fed
If once his rules are heeded.

How hard it is you may well say-
(You’d sooner take a whipping.)
To go about at early day
And (incipherable) is knowledge on the way –
Like weather wet and dripping.

You may well say, how hard our fare,
And not a path of roses,
We have a precious load to bear
And Winter’s cold we often share
With dew drops at our noses.

We carriers do our good by stealth
And wear an empty pocket,
We have, alas! No store of wealth
And journey weekly for our health,
But then we have to walk it.

Content we are as good old Grimes
And not disposed to mutter,
But then we want your paper dimes
To help us on in these hard times,
To get our bread and butter.

We leave it to your conscience friends
To give us what you owe us,
And if you think your giving tends
To strike a pang – why, make amends
And pray, do not bestow us.

We would not beg, we do not plead
Content with what you proffer us
You know our wants, just what we need,
We have no churlish miser’s greed
But take just what you offer us.

Mayhaps you think ‘twould be a crime
And say you hadn’t oughter,
So if you at this very time
Should deem it wrong to give a dime
We’ll take a paper quarter.

No gentle friends, long life to you
Your garners running over,
But give us now a dime or two
And you will see a happy crew
As little pigs in clover.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/6/1864, p. 1/ 4
A PARODY [Poem] Reminiscent of “Halleck’s Marco Bozzaris”. Reprinted from the Nashville Union.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/6/1864, p. 2/7
NEW YEAR’S GREETINGS [Advertisement/Poem] for John J. Peabody’s Store, Salem.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/13/1864, p. 1/ 2
OLD AND NEW YEAR [Original Poem] Dated North Andover, January 1864.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/13/1864, p. 1/ 6
OUR COUNTRY’S CALL [Poem] by John Pierpont

South Danvers Wizard, 1/13/1864, p. 1/6
HOW COULD I? [Poem] by Annie Bigelow

South Danvers Wizard, 1/13/1864, p. 2/4
STANZAS DEDICATED TO [Poem] On the Death of J.H. Peabody, Esq. Dated January 12, 1864.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/20/1864, p. 1/2
A DEAD YEAR [Selected Poetry] by Jean Ingelow.

South Danvers Wizard, 1/27/1864, p.1/ 2
THE ANCIENT TOMBS [Selected Poetry]

South Danvers Wizard, 1/27/1864, p. 1/ 3
OVER THE RIVER [Poem]

South Danvers Wizard, 2/3/1864, p.2/4
A SABBATH MORNING [Poem] by Mrs. Henry C. (Augusta) Torr –  Dated “Marietta, Aug. 3, 1862”.

South Danvers Wizard, 2/3/1864, p. 1 /2
LINES [Selected Poetry] by T. E. Hervey

South Danvers Wizard, 2/10/1864, p.1/2
SONG OF THE BLACKSMITH’S WIFE [Selected Poetry]

South Danvers Wizard, 2/10/.1864, p. 1/5
CHARGE OF THE MULE BRIGADE – [Satirical Poem] Preceded by the following note: “[On the night when Gen. Geary’s Division of the Twelfth Corps repulsed the attacking forces of Longstreet, at Wauhatchie, Tenn., a number of mules, affrighted by the noise of battle, dashed into the camp of Hampton’s Legion, causing much dismay among the rebels, and compelling many of them to fall back under a supposed charge of cavalry.]”

South Danvers Wizard, 2/17/1864, p. 1/1
MY MOTHER’S SOOTHING VOICE [Original Poetry] by S. Bicker. Dated Jan., 1864, Wells, Me.

South Danvers Wizard, 2/17/1864, p. 1/1
THE CHRISTIAN FARMER [Original Poetry] by S. Bicker, Dated Jan, 1864, Wells, Me.

South Danvers Wizard, 2/17/1864, p. 2/4
A HOSPITAL INCIDENT” [POEM] under Dustin, Eben, People and Places D.

South Danvers Wizard, 3/9/1864, p. 1/1
THE MAGIC SEA [Original Poetry] by Samuel Ricker

South Danvers Wizard, 4/6/1864, p. 1/5
WILLIE [Selected Poetry] by Mabel.

South Danvers Wizard, 4/13/1864, p. 1/5
THE BATTLE-STAINED FLAG [Selected Poetry]

South Danvers Wizard, 4/20/1864, p. 1/5
THE LIBRARY CHAIR [Original Poetry] by S. D. Peabody

South Danvers Wizard, 4/17/1864, p. 1/3
A SUNBEAM AND A SHADOW [Selected Poetry]

South Danvers Wizard, 5/11/1864, p. 1/ 4
LINES Written on the Death of  J. Warren Putnam [Original Poetry] by Georgie H. Stone. 

South Danvers Wizard,  6/1/1864, p. ¼
OUT OF THE WILDERNESS [Selected Poetry] Dated “Norfolk, Va. May 13” and signed “M. E. M.” A reprint from the New Regime.

South Danvers Wizard, 6/22/1864, p. 1/5
GRANT AT CHATTANOOGA [Selected Poetry]