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BIDE A WEE. 
 
 AND 
 
 OTUEE POEMS. 
 
 DV 
 
 MARY J. MacCOLL. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 TORONTO: 
 HOSE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 
 llL'MKtl, ROSE AND CO., PUINTERS ASD L NDKRS, 
 
 WKLLisorox aruisET. 
 1882. 
 
 msjaataaamim 
 
 ..■,..,iiiit,»ir»i—MWwA» 
 
 .,^»/. 
 

 Entered according to the Act of the Parh'ament of Canada, in the 
 year one thousand eight hundred and eighty-two, l3y Mary J. 
 MacColl, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture. 
 
COMPLIMENTARY. 
 
 « • » • > 
 
 Your little vohime is full of poetic beauty and deep feeling. - 
 Hiiii'i/ W. LoHfj/tlloa: 
 
 " Bide a Wee " contains a chaste and graceful collection of potnis 
 which do credit to the heurt and intellect of the author.- JoA/t G. 
 Whittle)'. 
 
 Y(/ur little book confirmed all my favourable impressions. I found 
 your poems truthful and melodious. — Oliver yVendell Holmes. 
 
 Your book is a true book, bright and beautiful.— Joar/at/i MiUcv. 
 
 Bide a Wee and Other Poems, is a volume of verse simple and 
 sweet, much of it sprightly, by Mary J. MacCoU, a lady whose n?»uie 
 will be recognized as a contributor to these columns. Like a true 
 daughter of .Scotland, she has chosen the phrase of her own land to 
 give title to her work, from the saying of a little Scotch lassie, that 
 patience signified the same as " Bide a wee, and dinna weary." The 
 ivory-smooth pages of this dainty little book are no clearer and more 
 refined than the poems which they bear.— fiaWt(;in's Monthly. 
 
 This unpretentious little book will find a hearty welcome on both 
 sides of the Atlantic. Miss MacColl has evidently inherited no fiuiall 
 share of the Livine afflatus from her father, the well-known bard of 
 Loch Fyne. 
 
 The descriptive character of the poetry of this book is equal to any 
 that we have seen in j^oems of the kind. Thus, in "Fallen Stam," 
 the term "dimpled feet abare " is so expressive, so ti-ue to life, that 
 it might have l»een limned by the poets of old. " In Memoriam " is 
 full of sympathy and the holiest feelings that well up when speaking 
 of the loved and lost. 
 
 The imagery of Miss MacColl's poetry is surpassingly good.— 
 Hamilton [Out.) Spectator. 
 
 The meaning and moral of Mi.ss MacColl's poems may be seen at a 
 glance. There is many a fireside where their sweetness will be wel- 
 come. — Buffalo Courier. 
 
 There are a good many pretty things in this little volume, poem>i 
 without pretension, but which steal their way to the heart of th< 
 reader, quiet and unambitious of great results, but which are tht.r- 
 oughly effective in the vein their author has chosi^n. — Buffalo Express. 
 
 i^W' 
 
% < 
 
 COMPLIMENTARY. 
 
 The first poem, " To my Father," is worth the whole cost of the 
 book. — Bu^alo Christian Advocate, 
 
 Miss MacCuU wields an able and very versatile pen . In all her 
 poems there is a delij,'hthil gracefulness of expression, and the reader 
 IS not merely interested, but captivated by an occasional flight of 
 fancy. There is not a mere imitation, but that peculiar fire and 
 feelin;,' and pathos whose deep significance and beauty is best and 
 only indicated in verse. — KiwfsPni {Out.) British Whiy. 
 
 It is rarely that fugitive poetry is met with of so high a standard 
 as Miss MacCoU's. To our minfl, the be-t poems are " Two Autumn 
 Days" and "Fjvllen Stars," but for a truly charming lilt, commend 
 us to "Edith Bell." We are not aware of ever having met with a 
 grander description of feminine beauty, drawn by feminine hands, 
 than that in the poem. " My hova,'"— Hamilton {Out.) Times. 
 
 "One Less To-night" is a pathetic picture. "Fallen Stars," a 
 sweet poem, full of large-heart.d charity and tender sympathy for 
 human " waadering stars." 
 
 In " My Love," with its musical cadence and glowing imagery, 
 we recognise the work of a true poet; but in " Good-by " there is 
 ])oetry, and more. "Johnny's Letter" is charming in its simplicity 
 \nd drollness. — Celtic Majazine, Inverness, Scotland. 
 
 Judged merely for what they pretend to be. Miss MacCoU's poems 
 are abundantly worthy, sweet and womanly and excellent in their 
 modest, ai'tless way. They are the frank, sincere, unaffected utter- 
 ances of a healthy, earnest nature, with strong convictions and posi- 
 tive principles of moral judgment. — JVeiw Fori Evening Post. 
 
 These poems breathe a sweet earnestness. Throughout the whole 
 book there is no straining after effect. The vers de societe are timely 
 and demure, while "St. Elmo" is a picture full of refined humour. 
 " To a portrait," " My T-ady," " At Parting," "Returned," " Good- 
 by," all go to make " Bide a Wee" a favourite little home book, pure 
 and sweet and absolutely free from caut and mysticism. — Phila- 
 delphia Chronicle- Herald. 
 
 Miss MacCoU's poems all bear the impress of a trained mind, a 
 clear imagination, a deep insight into human nature, kindly wit, 
 and shrewd common sense. — Scottish American Journal Neio York. 
 
 In *• Fallen Stars" there is a grand plea for the weak and erring* 
 We would also call attenti<m to "St. Elmo," "Gage d'Amour," 
 " Yet a Little While," "After Many Days." Fresh and welcome 
 are the many references to the jov, the laughter, the love and loveli- 
 ness of children.— Ottaioa {Ont.) Free Press. 
 
 ■r^- Vv 
 
cost of the 
 
 In all her 
 I the reader 
 al flight of 
 ir fire and 
 is best antl 
 
 a standard 
 ra Autimin 
 , commend 
 net with a 
 ine hands, 
 nc8. 
 
 i Star?," a 
 ipathy for 
 
 imagery, 
 ■ " there is 
 simplicity 
 
 pll's poems 
 in their 
 ted utter- 
 and posi- 
 
 the whole 
 
 Te timely 
 
 humour. 
 
 " Good. 
 
 ook, pure 
 
 ■Phila- 
 
 mind, a 
 dly wit, 
 YorL 
 
 1 erring* 
 Vmour," 
 kvelcome 
 .1 loveli- 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 To My Father, 
 
 Bide a Wee, 
 
 A Sermo.v, 
 
 Two Autumn Days, 
 
 Contradiction, 
 
 Fallen Stars, 
 
 Returned, , 
 
 St. Elmo, 
 
 In Memoriam . 
 
 Comfort, 
 
 GOOD-BY, 
 
 Tired to Death, 
 
 Gage D' Amour, 
 
 Christmas, . 
 
 One Less To-night, 
 
 Another Year, . 
 
 Snow, 
 
 Edith Bell, 
 
 To a Portrait, 
 
 " After Many Days," 
 
 Answered, 
 
 ** Yet a Little While," 
 
 Easter Song, . 
 
 Paqt, 
 9 
 12 
 14 
 17 
 21 
 23 
 27 
 29 
 32 
 35 
 
 37 
 40 
 43 
 44 
 47 
 50 
 63 
 65 
 53 
 59 
 62 
 64 
 CG 
 
<Yr 
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 II 
 
 My Love 
 
 At Parting, 
 
 My Lady, 
 
 A Penitential Pkayek, . 
 
 Acrostic, 
 
 Through Death to Life, 
 Johnny's Letter, 
 Through the Storm 
 
 Mementos , 
 
 An Ower True Tale 
 
 Forget-me-Nots, . . . , 
 
 Beneath the Pines, 
 
 Decorative Art, 
 
 Follies of To-day, 
 
 *' My Grace is Sufficient for Thee," 
 
 Sunset, 
 
 The Origin of the Guelder Rose 
 A Memento Quilt, 
 A Practical Proposal 
 Invocation to Jack Frost, 
 Faith 
 
 Pack 
 
 08 
 
 70 
 
 72 
 
 74 
 
 70 
 
 77 
 
 79 
 
 82 
 
 85 
 
 87 
 
 89 
 
 91 
 
 93 
 
 9G 
 
 98 
 
 100 
 
 102 
 
 104 
 
 108 
 
 110 
 
 112 
 
 
Pack 
 
 
 G8 
 
 
 70 
 
 
 72 
 
 
 74 
 
 
 7G 
 
 
 77 
 
 
 79 
 
 
 82 
 
 
 85 
 
 
 87 
 
 :f^^^^^S 
 
 89 
 
 
 91 
 
 4 
 
 93 
 
 
 9G 
 
 1 
 
 98 
 
 ■t,V' 
 ■ / 
 
 100 
 
 
 102 
 
 'ii 
 
 104 
 
 
 108 
 
 
 110 
 
 
 112 
 
 '^^1 
 
 I OFFER those Poems to an indulgent public, 
 feeling deeply their incompleteness in every 
 respect. They have been written hastily, at inter- 
 vals, under circumstances far from favourable to 
 the clothing of poetic thoughts in a fitting garb. 
 
 I dedicate them, with fond affection, to my dear 
 Father, from whom I have inherited what little 
 poetic feeling they may display. 
 
 M. J. M. 
 

 M 
 
 m 
 
 ^y ' 
 
TO MY FATHER. 
 
 T~\EAR, honored father, who in cljildhood's years 
 
 -"*-^ Did'st fill to me the place of parents both 
 
 So faithfully that scarce I felt that loss 
 
 Which naught of earth can fully compensate — 
 
 A mother's love and guidance — glad I tuno 
 
 My harp to sound thy praise, nor could I choose 
 
 A nobler, fitter theme. An honest man, 
 
 God's noblest work, thou art. For Truth and Right 
 
 A champion undismayed, who ne'er at wrong 
 
 Or aught unjust hath winked, because, forsooth 
 
 The doers sat enthroned in places high. - 
 
 One who disdained to cringe to any man « 
 
 Although thereby he might have gotten gain 
 
 And won position, ease, and all the good 
 
 That baser minds would prize as far above 
 
 A conscience clean and void of all offence. 
 
 E'en in the vilest thy broad charity 
 
 Could clear discern the good — the spark divine — 
 
(f 
 
 ■mifmmmFimmfm 
 
 ttmrnf 
 
 •^mt/r 
 
 \\ 
 
 10 
 
 TO MY F A T II E 11 . 
 
 Though latent, waiting but the quickening breath 
 
 Of noble influence, example pure, 
 
 To fan it into never-dying flame. 
 
 The lowest outcast was thy brother man ; 
 
 No Levite thou, to take the other side ; 
 
 A kindly, helping hand was ever stretched 
 
 To all in need, and from thy hard-won store 
 
 Thou gavest bountifully. None uncheered, 
 
 Unaided, left thy ever-open door. 
 
 No test of worthiness did'st thou require — 
 
 That miserable excuse for heartlossncss ; 
 
 The greater to be pitied, in thine eyes. 
 
 That wretch who knew that he himself had wrecked 
 
 His own and worse, it might be, other liv^es ; 
 
 And bowed beneath the burden of Too Late. 
 
 A nian thou art of simple, child-like faith, 
 Enduring patience, and undying hope, 
 In one grand word, thou art a Christ-like man. 
 I think with sad regret of all the years 
 Passed far from thee, for Providence decreed 
 That my life-path, when thy protecting love 
 I needed most, should far diverge from thine ; 
 
 ./ 
 
TO I^IY FATHER. 
 
 11 
 
 And I have missed thee sore a thousand times, 
 But ever by my side thy spirit seemed 
 To stand and counsel me to choose the good ; 
 And sweeter praise on me was ne'er bestowed 
 Than this, " Thou 'rt very like thy father, child." 
 
 Had I not lacked so oft thy sympathy, 
 Thy tender guidance, ever wise reproof, 
 My muse had taken loftier flights and thou 
 Had'st seen thy youth again renewed in me ; 
 But having to forego so much, my strains, 
 E'en when I sing of thee, are faltering ; 
 And yet a deep, unfathomable flood 
 Of fond affection surges in my soul. 
 In vain I strive to give it overflow 
 In voiceless music, and w^ithin my heart 
 It m\ii<t remain a sweet, imprisoned song. 
 
^""mmmmmmmmmmimmm 
 
 l§f''' 
 
 PATIENCE. 
 
 " "T3IDE a wee and dinna weai-y " 
 -*— ^ " Patience " quaintly was defined 
 By a little Scottish maiden, 
 
 And the sweet words in my mind 
 Ever linger, like the memory 
 
 Of a beautiful refrain ; 
 Making hours of gloom less dreary, 
 
 When I breathe them o'er a^jain. 
 
 Fretted by the many crosses 
 
 All must bear from day to day, 
 Troubled by our cares and losses. 
 
 Each of us hath need to say 
 To our hearts, impatient, crying 
 
 For the ships so long at sea. 
 While faith faints and hope is dying- 
 
 " Dinna weary, bide a wee." 
 
 I 
 
 >i 
 
PATIENCE. 
 
 13 
 
 " Rainy days " each life will sadden, 
 
 Gentle shower, or tempest wild, 
 Fall upon us, — blessings gladden 
 
 In their turn. To every child 
 Gives the Father or withholdeth, 
 
 Ever wisely, tenderly ; 
 Thus our hearts for Heaven Ho mouldeth, 
 
 " Dinna weary, bide a wee." 
 
 Some there are whom glad fruition 
 
 'Neath the skies may never bless. 
 Some to whose long-urged petition 
 
 Ne'er will come the yearned for " yes." 
 Why ? God knoweth — He who lendcth 
 
 Strength to suffer trustingly. 
 What He seeth best He sendeth — 
 
 " Dinna weary, bide a wee." 
 
 Hopeful wait a glad to-morrow ; 
 
 Cast on Jesus every care ; 
 Not unseen by Him thy sorrow, 
 
 Not unpitied thy despair. 
 For His people there remaineth 
 
 Rest and peace eternally. 
 Where the light of joy ne'er waneth, 
 
 " Dinna weary, bide a wee." 
 
(^' 
 
 '"■*" 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■^ 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 A SERMON. 
 
 I 
 
 aOING to church this morning, Helen ? 
 Mamma thinks we oufifht to qo. 
 But that prosy parson preaches ; — 
 
 I shall go to sleep, I know. 
 After Kingsloy's thrilling sermons, 
 
 Think of settling calmly down 
 To the " dry-as-dust " discourses 
 One hears in this dull, old town. 
 
 Never heard St. Ive's new curate ? 
 
 Oh, how much you've missed, dear girl ! 
 While he's speaking one seems standing 
 
 Very near the Gates of Pearl ; 
 And he looks just like an an^el 
 
 In his gown ; — he's quite too good 
 For (I cannot think, who wrote it) 
 *^ " Human nature's daily food." 
 
 Yes, his people all adore him. 
 
 Only think : last Christmas-day 
 Forty pairs of lovel}^ slippers 
 
 To his study found their wav ; 
 
A SERMON. 
 
 15 
 
 Costly knickknacks, scores of foot-rests, 
 Pictures, books, and easy-chairs, — 
 
 " Traps enough," his " Boots " told Dennis. 
 " To have stocked a dozen fairs." 
 
 lie's a hero ; braver never 
 
 Graced King Arthur's Table Round ; 
 No respecter he of persons — 
 
 Evo'y heart he seems to sound. 
 Once " Thou shalt not steal " his text was : 
 
 " Few," he said, " alas, how few 
 Keep this law ! Let conscience answer, 
 
 Are you honest ? Are you true ? 
 
 " Steal's an ugly word, I grant you. 
 
 Well, ' defraud not ' means the same. 
 How we hate to ^ivQ our foible. 
 
 As we call them, their just name. 
 Guiltless — are you ? Have you never 
 
 Smuggled broadcloth, satins, furs ? " 
 I though^ of my Alexandrines, — 
 
 Mrs. Upton glanced at hers. 
 
 "■^.' 
 
■ I I I I It 
 
 
 IG A SKRMON, 
 
 " Did you pay each dollar duty 
 
 On your velvets, silks, and lace ? " 
 Great sensation ! Breathless eilence, 
 
 Eloquent was every face. 
 Belle Brown brought her Paris dresses 
 
 Over in a " crooked " way ; 
 Kate Clyde, too, her gloves and stockings 
 
 And exquisite lingerie. 
 
 After church we talked it over, — 
 
 Vowed that we would never more 
 Cheat those prying, pert inspectors - — 
 
 Why, it seemed a joke before. 
 " Carriage waiting." Well, I'll tell you 
 
 Of another, on the way. 
 Just as stirring, — how I wish, dear, 
 
 Wc could hear him preach to-day. 
 
 li 
 
 "V- 
 
TWO AUTUMN DAYS. 
 
 ALL (lay in gusty showers, I saw the leaves 
 Swept eddying downward to the rain-soaked 
 sod ; 
 I saw upon the uplands tented sheaves, 
 
 And, by the roadside, wind-tossed golden rod. 
 
 Above, the sullen sky frowned loweringly, 
 
 Olose-curtained, not the smallest patch of blue — 
 
 A hint of brighter morrow — could I see, 
 No gleam of silver lining peeping through. 
 
 And bitterly I thought, How like my life 
 
 Is this bleak day ! Hope's tree is lifeless, bare ; 
 
 Its empty arms are tossed in useless strife 
 With fate, and sighing vainly, spare, 0, spare ! 
 
 ■'■4. 
 
 Yet when the forest banners were unfurled, 
 And fluttered in the balmy breeze of June, 
 
 I too was gay, all perfect seemed the world. 
 And my glad heart with nature's beat in tune. 
 
(( 
 
 i 
 
 is 
 
 TWO A U T U M N DA Y S . 
 
 But in one day I saw the flowers of trust, — 
 Flowers kindly tended and kept fresh by tears 
 
 Of fond remembrance, trampled in the dust, 
 And dying with the faith of long, sad years. 
 
 Oh, 'twas a cruel blow, for well-loved hands 
 Had dealt it — and I stood despairingly, 
 
 Too faint to cry for aid, as one who stands 
 Helpless on sinking ship, far out at sea. 
 
 I could not weep, I could not even pray : 
 
 My stricken heart cried. Where is now thy God ? 
 
 What hast thou done, that He on thee should lay 
 As in fierce anger, thus the chastening rod ? 
 
 Thou cairst Him Heavenly Father, Lord of Love ; 
 
 Would an all-powerful, earthly parent send 
 Sorrow on sorrow ? Lo, thy trust doth prove 
 
 All unavailing, on thyself depend. 
 
 And long I bore my burden sore alone, 
 
 I could not say " Thy will, not mine, be done." 
 
 Unceasingly my aching heart made moan 
 
 Through the long day, from dawn to set of sun. 
 
 4;® 
 
TWO A U T U M N D A Y S 
 
 10 
 
 Oft in the silent, watches of the ni<^ht 
 The " still, small voice " spake gently, tenderly, 
 
 " Trust me, my child, in time will come the light. 
 And in this grief a blessing thou shalt see." 
 
 Humbled at last, I bowed in prayer my head 
 And cried, " O, Saviour, take again my han<l ; 
 
 Through starless deserts long my path hath led, 
 My weary feet pressed only shifting sand. 
 
 thy God ? ■^m 
 
 uld lay 3h 
 
 M 
 
 f Love ; ^^^^H 
 
 3nd ^^B 
 
 ove ^^^^H 
 
 " Alone I cannot tread life's thorn-set road, 
 I need Thine arm to stay. Thy voice to guide ; 
 
 Take all I have, but keep me, my God, 
 A trusting child, forever near Thy side." 
 
 Then straightway came the Comforter to me. 
 The troubled waters of my soul were stilled, 
 
 The woi.drous power that calmed deep Galilee 
 With perfect peace my restless spirit filled. 
 
 Soon was the meaning of my sorrow plain, 
 I found a blessing what I deemed a cross, 
 
 And owned with glad surprise the richest gain 
 Where I had counted bitter, hopeless loss. 
 
 m 
 
20 
 
 TWO AUTUMN DAYS. 
 
 
 I 
 
 An(^ hen next year, 'mid fields of waving grain, 
 
 j,w the reapers binding golden sheaves, 
 When southward fled the swallows, and a^rain 
 'Neath Autumn's kiss blushed crimson all the 
 leaves, 
 
 T gave glad thanks, for God my life had crowned, 
 Like to the year, with fair fruition. Blest 
 
 With His kind smile, like Heaven, this earth is 
 found 
 In every season. Yes, He knoweth best. 
 
 ' m 
 
 %' ' 
 
(ONIKiVDICTION. 
 
 OVER the purple hills, 
 Oil through the dewy dale, 
 Softly the twilight steals, 
 Clad in her misty veil ; 
 Dead is tlie after-glow ; 
 
 Fair on the brow of night 
 
 Gleameth the moon ; below 
 
 Mirrors the lake her light. 
 
 Cieeping o'er clovcred leas, 
 
 Stealing through boughs abloom, 
 Bloweth a gentle breeze 
 
 Laden with rich perfume. 
 Sweetly adown the dell 
 
 Floateth a lightsome lay ; 
 Katydid, hush ! and tell — 
 
 Rideth my love that way ? 
 
 Close by the ivied tower, 
 
 Weaving sweet dreams, I wait, 
 
 Wearing his favorite flower ; 
 Yet when he ope's the gate 
 
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 CONTRADICTION. 
 
 I sliall be cold and sliy ; 
 
 The buds aside I'll throw, 
 And wish he would pass by, 
 
 Though I should weop, I know. 
 
 The robe he praised I wear, 
 
 A simple gown of white ; 
 I've bound my shining hair 
 
 With sprays of myrtle bright. 
 O, heart ! he is anear ; 
 
 In haste I turn aside, 
 Albeit I love him dear, 
 
 Dearer than all beside. 
 
FALLEN STAKS. 
 
 BKFORK the window little Mamie stood 
 In ni<,dit-nj])e white — her diiiiplLMl feet abare, 
 Waitini; in <miet, reverential inood, 
 
 While sister Annie lisped her evening prayer. 
 
 The smiling moon sailed slowly up the sky, 
 And just above the ^^ray horizon's bar 
 
 Beamed down upon the earth, with f;-olden eye. 
 Twinkling and Ijright, a solitar}^ star. 
 
 "The heavens declare God's glory," — from my heart 
 These words of praise o'erflowed my lips in 
 speech : 
 
 How great, I thought, if this be only part 
 The glory unrevealed, wc hope to reach, 
 
 Childhood's sweet, simple pi-ayers had each been 
 said ; 
 
 Still I sat musinfj in the fcatherin<]f rdoom : 
 Upon my knee had dropped the golden head, 
 
 When sudden plaintive sobbing filled the room. 
 
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 24 
 
 FALLEN STARS. 
 
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 " Mamie," I called, and hastened to her side, 
 With eager questions, filled with anxious fear ; 
 
 " Not ill — then tell me why my darling cried ? 
 " Not hurt — what is the matter — tell me, dear ? " 
 
 " I cried because the naughty mamma moon 
 
 Has left the little, tiny baby star. 
 And gone away into the sky alone. 
 
 So high, so very high, and oh, so far." 
 
 Quick to my eyes, warm tears responsive welled ; 
 
 Close to my heart I pressed the sad, sweet face. 
 Giving glad thanks that in my arms I held 
 
 My fair, twin stars in tender, safe embrace. 
 
 I thought how many " wandering stars" to-night 
 Are far away from mother-love and care. 
 
 Plow many fallen — once as pure and bright 
 As these my treasures — innocent and fair. 
 
 ■*' Who is sufficient ? " Vain is human power 
 Alone to keep the wolf outside the fold; 
 
 The strong are weak in dark temptation's hour, 
 The " old, old stor^^ " all in vain is told. 
 
FALLEN STARS. 
 
 25 
 
 Alas, those straying ones ! How little they 
 Wlio ne'er have stood alone can understand 
 
 How hard life's battle is from day to day, 
 What cunning snares are set on every hand. 
 
 Poor, lonely souls, to whom the lamps of heaven 
 Bring only thoughts of dread, remorse, and shame ; 
 
 Have we, their sisters, " to whom much is given," 
 Done all we might to rescue and reclaim ? 
 
 We give of our abundance, clothing, fc. 1, 
 
 We counsel, warn, read sermons, proffer tracts, 
 
 And deem such heartless service doing good. 
 Forgetful it the " one thing needful " lacks-^ 
 
 The spirit of the Master. While we stand 
 Clad in self-righteousness to preach and pray, 
 
 Yet shrink to touch with ours the outcast's hand. 
 Or one kiss on a branded forehead lay. 
 
 How can they trust in God the Father's love, 
 His power to cleanse the vilest from all sin, 
 
 Wlicn by our deeds our fair words we disprove ? 
 We doubt them, and we fear to take one in. 
 
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 26 
 
 FALLEN STARS. 
 
 And they go forth once more, we know not where ; 
 
 Perhaps to fall again a helpless prey ; 
 Sin's heavy burdens all alone to bear, 
 
 Alone to struggle up the " narrow way." 
 
 Yet Christ hath said, " If for the least of these ^ 
 Ye have done aught it hath been as for me ; " 
 
 Each fallen star His eye with pity sees, 
 Each straying sheep He seeketh tirelessly. 
 
 Unseen, the Shepherd walketh by our side, 
 
 How dare we, then, in thought, even, " cast a 
 stone " ? 
 
 Beneath the Pharisaic robe of pride s 
 
 His eye doth pierce, all hearts to Him are known. 
 
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RETURNED. 
 
 , 
 
 DROOPING lilacs, nod and sway 
 All your fragrant purple plumes ; 
 Robins, sing your sweetest lay 
 
 'Mid the dainty apple-blooms ; 
 Golden sunshine, flowerets rare, 
 
 Shine and blossom bright, I pray ; 
 Smile, sky, O winds, blow fair — 
 For my lover comes to-day. 
 
 Comes from sailing o'er the main 
 
 Back to wed his promised bride ; 
 From the casement once again 
 
 Shall I see his swift bark glide 
 Up the silver-crested bay. 
 
 Where the ripples dance and gleam 
 Till beneath the sunlight they 
 
 Waves of liquid silver seem. 
 
 Just one little year ago 
 
 Since we parted on the strand ; 
 
 Then as now, like perfumed snow. 
 Blossoms strewed the meadow-land ; 
 
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 28 
 
 HETURNED. 
 
 Earth had donned her robe of green, 
 Dai.sy-broidered, gemmed with gold 
 
 Ah, how like a troubled dream 
 
 Seem the months that since have rolled. 
 
 
 \ '} 
 
 
 Hasten, darling, o'er the sea. 
 
 For to-day is due thy vow ; 
 " Love," you whispered, " look for me 
 
 When upon the crimson bough 
 Of the maple bluebirds sing. 
 
 When the swallows 'neath the eaves 
 Ivy-crowned, are twittering, 
 
 And the zephyrs woo the leaves. 
 
 Drooping lilacs, nod and sway 
 
 All your fragrant purple plumes ; 
 Robins, sing your sweetest lay 
 
 'Mid the dainty apple-blooms ; 
 For my own true lover now 
 
 Clasps me closely to his heart, 
 Whispers, kissing lips and brow, 
 
 " Darling, mine, no more we part.' 
 
 i 
 
 
ST. VAMO. 
 
 OM K sunuiier Sabbath Grandma Gordon bent 
 In reverent meditation o'er the Book, 
 Wherein she found the wondrous balm which lent 
 , Iler placid face its gentle, happy look. 
 
 The day to her was truly God's own day, 
 
 Kept unprofaned from taint of worldly things ; 
 
 Tabooed were novels, journals, — papers lay 
 
 Untouched. Tlie rustling faint of angels' wings 
 
 At eventide, in fancy, we could hear. 
 
 When at the household altar low we bowed ; 
 
 So heavenly round her seemed the atmosphere, 
 We scarcely dared to speak our thoughts aloud. 
 
 Stretched out upon the lounge lay brother Rex, 
 Weary of brooding over " Guthrie's Life ; " 
 
 I pondered o'er the problems which perplex 
 Each human heart with endless mystery rife, 
 
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 ■■■■«■■■■■ 
 
 30 
 
 ST. ELMO. 
 
 Half hidden by the curtains Katie sat 
 Curled, kitten-like, upon an easy chair, 
 
 On book intent, — near her upon the mat 
 
 Old Nestor crouched, with watchful, serious air. 
 
 At length a voice the solemn stillness broke — 
 Rex, boy-like, craved yet more than "food for 
 thought"-— 
 
 From her sweet reverie grandmamma awoke. 
 And Katie's face her loving eyes first sought. 
 
 Smiling, she kindly said, " I'm pleased, my dear, 
 To see such eager interest in your book ; 
 
 Heed Wisdom's voice whene'er she calls and hear." 
 Kate listened with a roguish, guilty look. 
 
 " What is the title, darling ? " The reply 
 
 Came prompt, " St. Elmo." I look up amazed. 
 " The name seems strange," said grandma, with a 
 sigh. 
 " Ah, how my memory fails, but, Heaven be 
 praised, 
 
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ST. ELMO. 
 
 31 
 
 " Each saintly life will strengthen hope and fjiith 
 In one's own heart, — read all, dear, pass by none." 
 
 Rex coughed and vanished, while I held my breath, 
 And wicked Katie read demurely on. 
 

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 IN MEMOKTAM. 
 
 DAVID DE VEAUX ALTMAN. 
 
 DEAD, with the dew still fresh upon the flowers 
 Which made life's pathway sweet, 
 His sun gone down in the bright morning hours, 
 Its glory incomplete. 
 
 Gone, swift as rosy dawn, as flowerets rare, 
 
 As even's glowing gold, 
 A story ended, closed the volume ftiir. 
 
 With all the best untold. 
 
 Dead, as when dies a glad, exultant song 
 
 Ere yet the sweetest strain 
 Is reached, — with eager ears we wait and long, 
 
 No sound floats back again. 
 
 A father crieth, as King David cried , 
 
 Of old, " My son ! my son ! 
 My son, would God that I for thee had died ! 
 
 My hope, my only one. 
 
IN MEM OKI AM. 
 
 33 
 
 " ^ly ilarlin;]^ l)oy ! I seek him every where, 
 
 I cannot deem him dead, 
 I seem to hear in chamber, hall, on stair, 
 
 His voice, his buoyant tread. 
 
 " Light of mine eyes ; long had I hoped on theo 
 
 To lean when age came on. 
 Yet I am left, a bowed and stricken tree, 
 
 And thou, my staff art gone ! ' 
 
 A tender mother mourns for him, her pride, 
 
 Crown of her womanhood. 
 Strong, generous, brave, he grew up by her side 
 
 With every grace imbued. 
 
 With mother-love she read the coming years, 
 
 And saw a proud place won 
 By him o'er whom she weepeth hopeless tears, 
 
 Her happy dreaming done. 
 
 A loving sister calls with aching heart, 
 
 " 0, brother, come again ; 
 Had'st thou but said * good-by ' ere we did part, 
 
 Less bitter were our pain. 
 
 
34 
 
 IN MEM OR I AM. 
 
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 " But 0, to have no kiss, no clasp of hand, 
 
 No glance from thy blue eyes, 
 Nor slightest gesture love could understand, — 
 
 No last, fond word to prize." 
 
 Sore SuHcken hearts, how can I comfort ye ; 
 
 Alas, too well I feel 
 The kindest words must seem but mockery 
 
 And wound, where meant to heal. 
 
 Yet 0, believe, Our Father knoweth best, — 
 
 He giveth soonest sleep 
 To his belovtd, happy, peaceful rest ; 
 
 They do not wake to weep. 
 
 The angels called him, ere his young white soul 
 
 Was smirched by stain of sin. 
 His race is ended, — he hath reached the goal ; 
 
 And, when ye enter in 
 
 Triumphant through the gates with jubilant song, 
 
 The loved and lost shall be 
 First in that wondrous bright, angelic throng, 
 
 To meet and welcome ye. 
 
COMFORT. 
 
 rp^IIOUGH many flowers have faded from my life, 
 -■- And clouds obscure the brightness of its sky, 
 Though still amid the turmoil and the strife 
 
 I must toil onward, as the days go by ; 
 0, loving Father ! I can lift to Thee 
 
 Grateful thanksgiving, and the voice of praise, 
 A harvest fair of blessings, unto me 
 
 Thy love hath given, lo, these many days. 
 
 Oft have I questioned with the poet old, — 
 
 ** Doth God exact day labor light denied ? " 
 Must they whose lives are sad, and dark, and cold, 
 
 Work bravely on, peaceful and satisfied ? 
 Can I make others glad, when no bird sings 
 
 Within the bloomless garden of my heart ? 
 And self-forgetting lead to better things 
 
 Those who in deeper shadows dwell apart ? 
 
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 C >; F U T . 
 
 This have I learned, we can do much to niako 
 
 Our lives a l)lessing, and our words a power, 
 If what we find to do for Christ's dear sake 
 
 We do with faithfulness, from hour to hour. 
 The wondrous story loved by old and young 
 
 Was penned by Bunyan in a prison cell, 
 In banishment the great-souled Dantd sung 
 
 His grand, prophetic strain of Heaven and Hell. 
 
 And still their name is legion who have wrought 
 
 Steadfast and calm, bereft of earthly cheer ; 
 Songs in the night by angels have been taught. 
 
 Which wakeful, praying souls alone could hear. 
 Thus thinking on these things my heart grows strong, 
 
 And I walk nearer to my heavenly guide 
 And bless Him for the joys I have, — ere long 
 
 " Bo ^nd the veil," I shall be satisfied. 
 
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 GOOD-BY. 
 
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 GOOD-BY ! I cannot speak it, love, to tlice. 
 That saddest of ull words ; my (|uick tears 
 How 
 At tliouglit of parting; life would sunless bo 
 Without thee ; nay, I cannot bid thee go. 
 
 I know that by thy side Hope smiling stands, 
 Paintinjj a future fair and britjht to thee — 
 
 Fame, fortune, waiting in the golden lands 
 That lie afar, beyond the glittering sea. 
 
 Could'st thou be free from ill through all the years 
 We must be severed, ere fruition come 
 
 To thy sweet dreams, I'd smile e'en through my 
 tears, 
 And bid thee go, win power and wealth and fame. 
 
 But, ah, I cannot pierce the mystic veil 
 
 Which darkly shrouds the future from my sight, 
 
 And I would weep, and long for thee by day 
 And dream of dangers round thee in the night. 
 
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 38 
 
 GOOD-BY. 
 
 Even now, I think how many proud, young heads 
 Are lying low, beneath the shining sand ; 
 
 How many vessels bearing brave, young hearts. 
 Have sailed, but never, never reached the land. 
 
 O, darling, think what it would be to die. 
 To yield up hope, and love, and life, alone ; 
 
 Unwept o'er, in a nameless grave to lie. 
 From friends afar, uncared for and unknown. 
 
 Would strangers tenderly across thy breast 
 
 Fold these dear hands, and from thy brow, when 
 cold. 
 
 Smooth the dark locks I have so oft caressed, 
 With tender touch, in the blest days of old ? 
 
 Will careless watchers see the last soul-ray 
 Die from the eyes now looking into mine ? 
 
 Nay, I read in them that thy lips will say 
 Farewell Ambition, Love, the victory's thine ! 
 
 O, chide me not, mine may be needless fears. 
 
 Fate might be kind, and smile, beloved, on thee ; 
 
 But, ah, remember, years, long weary years. 
 Must pass ere thou could'st come again to me. 
 
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GOOD-B Y. 
 
 30 
 
 1 1 
 
 I could not climb life's rugged mountain side 
 Without thy strong right arm to lean upon ; 
 
 I could not stem the waves of sorrow's tide 
 Without thy voice and smile to cheer me on. 
 
 0, what is gold, or rank, or power to me ? 
 
 They will not satisfy an aching heart : 
 And wanting love, how cold the world would be, 
 
 How desolate — with all its show and art. 
 
 I love thee, darling, more than I can tell, ' 
 All else I could yield up ; but thee, ah, no, 
 
 Not e'en when dying shall I say farewell, ^ 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart, I cannot bid thee go 1 
 
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 TIRED TO DEATH. 
 
 OH, Marie, come quickly and take off my shoes ; 
 Now, bring my white peignoir, and let dov/n 
 my hair ; 
 I'm tired to death ! Grace, you must excuse 
 
 Me to Alice and Captain Bellair. 
 Not a moment of rest all this day have I had 
 
 Since my coffee was brought me at ten, 
 "With the papers. Each item of interest I read : 
 
 By the way, I'm disgusted with men ! 
 A second Maud Muller young Money worth's wed. 
 
 When he might — but no matter — and then 
 An hour was spent dressing, — a letter I wrote 
 
 To Bell Breeze — she's a love of a girl ! 
 Drove to Russell's — was fitted — then penned a sweet 
 note 
 
 To Fred Fairleigh : that card case of jxiarl 
 He sent me — a bet on the races last week. 
 
 Yes, archery is quite the rage : 
 A cute polo pony's my very last freak — 
 
 I'll never fall back of the age. 
 
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 TIRED TO DEATH. 
 
 41 
 
 Had breakfast at one ; then a short nap I took ; 
 
 Read Daniel Deronda till three ; 
 I must say it's tedious — not my style of book — 
 
 Gecrge Eliot's too solid for me. 
 Now, South worth and Flemming are just to my 
 taste, ' 
 And French novels are quite au fait. 
 Kate Norris called next — oh, how tight she was 
 laced, 
 And I'm sure she was painted to-day. 
 While we talked, Clara Alden rushed in with a 
 gush, 
 I thought she would strangle me quite ; 
 Ilcr ])rother is charming, you know, dear, don't 
 blush — 
 I saw that flirtation last night* 
 
 Next Mordant dropt in — he's a donkey ; but then 
 
 He's worth a cool million or more ! 
 Ma thinks him the nicest and wisest of men — 
 
 To mo he's a horrible bore. 
 
 
 
 
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 TIRED TO DEATH, 
 
 But I don't mean to snub him ; his T~cart and drag 
 
 Are the most stunning turn-outs I've seen ; 
 While driving to-day, we met Marion Flagg, 
 
 And with envy she fairly turned green. 
 One caimot well blame her, he is such a catch, 
 
 And the poor girl is growing passe. 
 How she has manoeuvred to make a good match ! 
 
 What ! Grace, six o'clock, did you say ? 
 Why, I must be dressing ; at seven we dine 
 
 At Delmonico's. What shall I wear ? 
 The German at Granger's commences at nine — 
 
 Shall I bang, friz or scallop my hair ? 
 How frightful to think I've not a new dress ; 
 
 I'm sure I appeared at least twice. 
 While at Newport, in each of the robes I possess* 
 
 My white mull — do you think that is nice ? 
 Come, Marie, make haste, you are always so slow — 
 
 I wish I had time to take breath ; * 
 Well, darling, good-bye ! if you really must go. 
 
 Thank goodness I I'm tired to death* 
 
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GAGE D'AMOUE, 
 
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 rriHEEE came to me a little page one day, 
 *-'- In livery of red, and green and gold, — 
 
 He uttered not a word ; 
 
 Not e'en a sigh I heard ; 
 And yet his message sweet, to me he told,-r- 
 A greeting from my lover far away. 
 
 A white-winged dove had borne my dainty page 
 O'er hill and dale, across the wide, blue sea, 
 I kissed him o'er and o'er — 
 *Twas but a leaf, — no more, — 
 From Autumn's crown, my love had sent to me,- 
 Topaz with rubies set, a true knight's gage. 
 
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 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 T 0, Merry Christmas smiles again ! 
 -^— ^ Day brightest in the year, 
 And happy greetings fill the air 
 
 [^-echoing far and near. 
 Let Yule logs blaze, and every home 
 
 Be decked with holly gay. 
 Without, within, all should bo fair 
 
 On this the children's day. 
 
 How many feet adown the stair 
 
 Were flying ere the light, 
 To where the stockin^^s in a row 
 
 Were hung with hope last night ? 
 How many youthful hearts beat high, 
 
 When full and brimming o'er 
 With Santa's gifts their own they found ? 
 
 Bliss 1 — earth could give no more. 
 
CHRISTMAS. 
 
 To-day, each grandsirc will grow young 
 
 To share the joyous glee ^ ^ 
 
 Of laughing gir^s and merry boys, 
 
 That gather round his knee, 
 And grandmamma live o'er again 
 
 The time so long ago, 
 When saucy Harry kissed her first. 
 
 Beneath the mistletoe. 
 
 And in a thousand homes to-day. 
 
 The story will be told — 
 The wondrous story, ever new. 
 
 Albeit ages old — 
 Of the blest Babe at Bethlehem born 
 
 Long centuries ago, 
 The " King of Kings." from Heaven sent. 
 
 To save the world from woe. 
 
 And of the anthem, angel-voiced, 
 
 That filled the midnight sky — 
 " Peace and good- will to men on earth ; 
 
 Glory to God on high, — " 
 Of three wise men that came from far ; — 
 
 The star that led their way 
 By hill and plain, until it shone 
 
 O'er where the young child lay. 
 
 45 
 
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 46 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Alas ! how many no'or have heard 
 
 The tidings strange and glad ; 
 Who grope through life uneheercd by hope, 
 
 Unloved, iincared for, sad. 
 Let us remember those who have 
 
 No joy in earth or Heaven, 
 And give to-day of our good cheer, 
 
 As God to us hath given. 
 
'*■ '1 ' 
 
 ONE LESS TO-NIGHT. 
 
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 "T""T"ERE she stood beneath the mantel 
 -* — *- Just a year ago t<^-iii^^;ht, 
 With her smiling face uplifted, 
 
 Cheeks aglow, and blue eyes bright,^ 
 Holding up a little stocking ; 
 
 While her sweet voice eai^erlv 
 Pleaded "Wont you hang it, mamma, 
 
 Where old Santu, Glaus can see ? " / 
 
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 Lone I sit by dying embers, , . 
 
 Christmas eve has come and gone ; 
 And the bell in yonder steeple 
 
 Slowly tolls the hour of one. 
 One — my heart re-echoes sadly. 
 
 Two were here one year ago ; 
 By my side my boy lies dreaming, 
 
 She is sleeping 'neath the snow. 
 
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 ONE LESS TO-NIGITT. 
 
 Here, witli dimpled hands close folded, 
 
 Did she lisp hor evening prayer, 
 But no white-robed form now knecleth 
 
 By the tiny, vacant chair. 
 Once for all the red lips murmured, 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep,'' 
 And the blue eyes closed forever 
 
 In a slumber, dreamless, deep. 
 
 Mom, and noon, and night, we miss her, 
 
 Listening often, all in vain,) 
 For the sound of coming footsteps 
 
 We shall never hear again. 
 Little feet the loving Saviour 
 
 Early through the Pearly Gate 
 Led them, knowing in life's journey 
 
 Thorns must wound them, soon or late. 
 
 Oh! the loneliness and sorrow 
 
 In our hearts and in our home, 
 When we know on no " to-morrow " 
 
 Will our absent darling come ! 
 -f Why this cross ? we grieving question, 
 
 God, who took our idol, knew 
 If our " treasure" were in Heaven 
 
 We would long to follow too, 
 
ONE LESS TO-NIGIIT, 
 
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 Ami wc know to-night she's singing 
 
 In the palace of the King — 
 ( Once the Blessed Babe )i Bethlehem—/ 
 
 And our fond hearts ever cling 
 To our loved one — yet this morning 
 
 Through our blinding tears we smiled, 
 Saying, while we wreathed her picture, 
 
 " It is well " with our «jweet child. 
 
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 ANOTIIEK YE All. 
 
 TT N my Book of Life, leaf after leaf 
 -■- The Master s hand turned o'er 
 E'en to the last, while I in grief 
 
 Stood trembling, weeping sore, 
 Thinking how marred, and dark with blots 
 
 Was every page my tears 
 Had washed in vain, to cleanse the spots 
 
 From the record of the years. 
 
 In dread I waited the just rebuke. 
 
 And bowed in shame my head; 
 But, gently my hand in His own Ho took, — 
 
 " Fear not, my child," He said ; 
 " I v/ill not chide — see, free from stain, 
 
 Another page, pure, fair. 
 Before thee lies, try yet again. 
 
 Write good deeds, true words there." 
 
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 ANOTHER YEA 11. 61 
 
 U2)wai'(l I looked, the touch, the tone 
 
 So tender, moved my heart 
 To tliank and bless Him, but alone 
 
 I stood with lips apart 
 Thrilling with words unsaid, — my eyes 
 
 Saw not the face Divine ; 
 But the golden stars in the purple skies, 
 
 And 1 heard the church bells chime. 
 
 Solemn and slow the midnight hour 
 
 They pealed, then, loud and clear, 
 Rang merrily out, from every tower 
 
 To greet the glad New Year. 
 And I knew but a dream was my vision bright. 
 
 Yet its meaning came to me 
 Like the welcome gleam of a beacon light 
 
 To the mariner far at sea. 
 
 When the clock struck ten, two hours before, 
 
 From a merry group I sped 
 Alone, to my chamber, and closed the door, 
 
 Then each penned page I read 
 Of my diary small, to the very last, — 
 
 And all were stained and wet 
 With bitter tears, for the vanished past 
 
 I grieved, with vain regret. 
 
 
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 ANOTHER YEAR. 
 
 " Twelve months,'' I wailed, " have flown away — 
 
 Ah, me ! how swift they went. 
 And I cannot recall a single day 
 
 Of the many lost, misspent." 
 Then lew I knelt on the window-seat 
 
 To pray, — for God more nigh 
 Did seem (so ran my fancy sweet), — 
 
 Could I but see the sk}''. 
 
 There like a child myself to sleep 
 
 I sobbed, and the % .sion bright 
 Shone softly through my slumber deep, 
 
 And my sorrow put to flight, 
 For it seemed as if on my list'ning ear 
 
 Those pleading words, for me 
 Fell, " Father ! yet another year 
 
 Spare thou, oh, spare this tree ! " 
 
 To all, God gives the Book of Life 
 
 A pure, white page turned o'er : — 
 0, let us wage a ceaseless strife, 
 
 And fight as ne'er before 
 For the glorious prize, the victor's crown, 
 
 Glad when the goal is won 
 At the Master's feet to cast it down, 
 
 And hear his sweet, " Well done." 
 
"i| 
 
 SNOW. 
 
 FROM frost-kissed, fcm-traccd window 
 I watch the fleecy snow 
 So softly faltering downward 
 To clothe the earth below ; 
 Flakelet on flakelet falling, 
 
 Pure as the soul of a child, 
 Fairer than lily chalice, 
 Stainless and undefiled. 
 
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 Crowning each cot and mansion, 
 
 Shrouding the long, dark street, — 
 White as the glistening foam-bells, 
 
 Noiseless as fairy feet, — 
 Draping the leafless branches, 
 
 Gemming with pearls each spray, 
 Bringing a dream of blossoms, 
 
 And sunny fragrant May, — • 
 
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SNOW. 
 
 Each tiny star's a jewel 
 
 Graven by God's own hand, 
 Bearing a mystic signet, 
 
 Seal of a King's command, 
 Lighting alike on lowly 
 
 And men of high degree — 
 Ten thousand thousand preachers 
 
 Of purity are ye. 
 
 Snow, spotless snow, fit emblem 
 
 Of every heart e'er sin 
 The spirit's shrine profaneth, 
 
 And evil reigns within. 
 Who hath a stainless tablet ? 
 
 Yet if to God we go, 
 " Though red our sins like scarlet, 
 
 They shall be white as snow." 
 
 i!;f 
 
' r 
 
 EDITH BELL. 
 
 "T AM dreaming, Edith Bell, 
 
 -^ Of youth's happy hours and thoo ; 
 
 Ocean waves between us swell, 
 
 Yet thou seemest near to me. 
 Mist-like fade the long, lone years 
 
 Fled since we a lafit farewell 
 Mutely looked, through blinding tears — 
 
 Parted hopeless, Edith Bell. 
 
 Round my heart, dear Edith Bell, 
 
 Sad, sweet memories cluster fast ; 
 Chaining me in fancy's spell, 
 
 Bringing back the sunny past 
 Ere we trod earth's thorny ways, 
 
 Ere life's shadows on us fell — 
 Childhood's careless, cloudless days, 
 
 Fair and fleeting, Edith Bell. 
 
 i . 
 
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 M:ir 
 
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I-- 
 
 5G EDITH BELL. 
 
 Of the Summers, Edith Bell, 
 
 When we wandered by the sea. 
 Building castles, shell on shell. 
 
 Launched our tiny bark with glee, 
 Roamed by hazel-skirted streams, 
 
 Gathered berries in the dell ; 
 One long feast of golden dreams 
 
 Seemed our life then, Edith Bell. 
 
 Winter days, sweet Edith Bell, 
 
 Ne'er to us seemed dark or drear ; 
 How we loved when twilight fell. 
 
 Grandma s wondrous tales to hear 
 Of grim ghosts, or fairies bright^ 
 
 Brownie's help, or witches' spell, 
 Wailing banshee, evil sprite. 
 
 Never doubting, Edith Bell ! 
 
 Time sped onward, Edith Bell, 
 
 Brought me sorrow, toil, and care ; 
 But no shadow seemed to dw^ll 
 
 On your life, 'twas glad and fair 
 As the future we had planned 
 
 Mid the gowans, in the dell. 
 Where we sat, hand clasped in hand— 
 
 Twas our Eden, Edith Bell. 
 
EDITH BELL. 
 
 Dost remember, Edith Bell, 
 
 When the last time there we met ? 
 Could we e'er such woe foretell ? 
 
 Can we e'er such grief forget ? 
 Still your words ring out to me, 
 
 Softer, then, were thy death-knell, 
 " In the morn a bride you'd be — 
 
 Lady Lisle," my Edith Bell ! 
 
 Love was conquered, Edith Bell, 
 
 By ambition, and the fear 
 Of a father's curse. Too well 
 
 Had I loved, and still more dear 
 Than my life art thou to me : 
 
 Weary years, nor death, can quell 
 Love's fire kindled but by thee, 
 
 In my heart, dear Edith Bell. 
 
 Snow-white now, sweet Edith Bel', 
 
 Say they, is thy raven hair ; 
 Lines of care and sorrow dwell 
 
 On the brow, lang-syne so fair ; 
 But no change my heart can see. 
 
 So I heed not what they tell ; 
 Thou art ever young to me, 
 
 Ever lonnie, Edith Bell. 
 
 D 
 
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 57 
 
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 ^ < I H 
 
 ^•/■■i 
 
TO A PORTIIAIT. 
 
 ORARE ideal face which long in vain 
 Throughout the world I sought, until with 
 pain — 
 The bitter pain of finding idols clay, 
 Of gathering fair, false, dead sea fruit alway — 
 Heart- weary I the useless quest gave o'er. 
 E'en as an exile on a foreign shore 
 Scans with an eager gaze each passing face, 
 Remembering one with lines of tender grace ; 
 Yet as long years roll by and all hope dies, 
 With lagging steps he walkc, and downcast eyes. 
 And thus, unheeding, I moved on life's way 
 With listless air, — nor features grave nor gay 
 Enchained my gaze, — until (like heaven earth 
 
 seemed 
 That golden morn) the face of which I'd dreamed 
 By day, by night, I found, — and claimed thee mine, — 
 Mjr true soul mate^ as I, beloved, am thine. 
 
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 i 
 
 >k:.J>^ 
 
 0t 
 
"AFTEK MANY DAYS." 
 
 MUSING I sat one dismal, cheerless day, 
 Suffering and sorrowful, with hopeless eyes 
 Fixed on the ground, as if below there lay 
 Some dark abyss, from which all troubles rise. 
 
 Few hearts are unimpressed by Nature's mood ; 
 
 When she doth frown and weep, sad memories 
 wake. 
 And even youth's day-dreams are sombre-hued, 
 
 Life seems a mystery deep, or sad mistake. 
 
 Strange, when the gloom of sorrow's night comes on. 
 Straight we forget the dewy, radiant morns — 
 
 Strange, when the beauty of a rose is gone, 
 Most often comes remembrance of its thorns. 
 
 As darker grew the day, with darker lines 
 
 I sketched ea^^h picture from life-scenes long past; 
 
 Dark cypress trees and ever-sighing pines 
 
 Formed every background, and weird shadows 
 cast, 
 
 ): 
 
60 
 
 "AFTER MANY D A V S . " 
 
 I •!' 
 
 Shadows that hid the sunny slopes from siglit, 
 And fair mist-mantled hills that lay beyond. 
 
 The emerald meadows starred with daisies white, 
 The fleets of lilies anchored in the pond. 
 
 I passed all by, and came to Memory's grave — 
 Alas, though I had made it wide and deep, 
 
 Though flowers bloom o'er her, and long grasses 
 wave, 
 She stirreth often, whispering in her sleep. 
 
 Like ghosts old griefs and wrongs from out the Past 
 Through my soul's chambers flitted one by one. 
 
 And o'er my life a heavy pall seemed cast. 
 Nor star of hope shone out, nor gleam of sun. 
 
 How like to children arc we ! — when afraid, 
 In doubt or anguish, to the Father's face 
 
 We wistful look, as mutely asking aid ; 
 
 Thus I looked up to pray for help and grace. 
 
 And lo, it seemed as if an unseen hand 
 Had traced again a message on the wall 
 
 In speech I could not fail to understand. 
 No prophecy of some great city's fall, 
 
"AFTER MANY DAYS." 
 
 Gl 
 
 But a sweet promise kindling hope anew, 
 
 " God is our refuge and our strength," — twice o'er. 
 
 I read the precious words, and felt them true, 
 And sweeter deemed they then than e'er before. 
 
 For little hands this motto worked for me 
 
 With loving care, ere they grew still and cold ; 
 
 And oft a childish voice read solemnly 
 
 The sweet assurance fror^ the Book so old. 
 
 And through my tears, with grateful heart, I said, 
 "0 Lord, how wondrous are Thy works and ways ;' 
 
 Upon the waters once I cast my bread, 
 And lo, I find it " after many days." 
 
 I 
 
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 I 
 
ANSWERED. 
 
 FORGOTTEN ?— darling, nay, I love thee still 
 With all the fervor of the olden days ; 
 As then, imperial o'er my heart and wil' 
 
 Thou reignest, crowned with never-fading bays. 
 
 m 
 
 Why ask if in the windows of my soul 
 A rival's eyes now read the secret sweet 
 
 Thine own have conned, as from an open scroll, 
 So oft, in happy hours, alas, too fleet ? 
 
 O my beloved ! what need have I to tell 
 
 That absence makes thee only still more dear ? 
 
 Life is not life without thee, ah, — too well 
 Thou knowest how I long to have thee near. 
 
 ■:? '£■ 
 
 Miss thee? — would Earth not miss the King of Day, 
 Did fair Aurora cease at morn to fold 
 
 The rose-lined curtains of his tent away, 
 
 And lead him forth, in robes of gleaming gold V 
 
ANSWERED, 
 
 63 
 
 ! dark as death seem all the leaden hours 
 Which must be numbered ere thy face I sec ; 
 
 As summer rain to drooping, dying flowers, 
 So will thy coming be, dear one, to me. 
 
 My king of men ! I love, aye, worship thee, * 
 
 . And oft I pray. Lord, be my sin forgiven. 
 If sin it be, to love so tenderly 
 
 Him in whose presence Earth seems like to 
 Heaven. 
 
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 '' YET A LITTLE WHILE." 
 
 EYOND the clouds smiles the clear blue sky, 
 And the sun will shine when the storm 
 blows by. 
 
 In the frost-bound earth through the winter lay 
 The flowers that in beauty bloom to-day, 
 
 And soon from the buds on the bare l)rown trees, 
 Will banners of green be unfurled to the breeze. 
 
 Cloud, flower, and leaf, ye are teachers three 
 Of the many my Father hath given to me. 
 
 The lesson ye teach I can understand ; 
 To me 'tis as rain to the thirsty land. 
 
 I know that the sunlight will gild my sky, 
 In the sweet, mysterious " by-and-by ; " 
 
 And from chilly realms of dark despair, 
 Will spring Hope's blossoms fresh and fair. 
 
 -S(W- 
 
V 
 
 "YET A LITTLE WHILE." G5 
 
 Tlicu my heart will thrill like a wind-kissed leaf, 
 
 Though it faintoth now 'neath a weight of grief. 
 
 •f .♦<- ' ■ • 
 
 Oh, Thou who dost clothe the lilies fair, 
 In light or in shade may 1 feel Thee near ; 
 
 May my faith burn bright and my love l)e strong. 
 Though the tempest rage, and the night be long. 
 
 Help me to work while 'tis yet to-day — 
 Ere ihe Lwilight falleth cold and gray ; 
 
 Help me with careful hand to sow 
 
 Good seeds from whose germs no tares may grow. 
 
 May the Lord of the harvest upon me smile, 
 When he cometh to reap in " a little while." 
 
 I 
 
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 4 
 
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 ■a :%: 
 
 EASTER SONG. 
 
 BLITHE heralds of the Spring break into 
 singing, 
 Warble your sweetest, merriest notes to-day ; 
 Peal out, glad bells, the joyful tidings ringing, 
 Christ hath arisen, the stone is rolled away ! 
 
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 i ii 
 
 Haste, laughing brooklet, tell it to the river, 
 O hasten, river, sing it to the sea ; 
 
 Chant the grand anthem to the shore forever, 
 Wild waves of ocean — shout it ceaselessly. 
 
 Smile, mother Earth, thy richest treasures proffer. 
 Thy lovely, first-born darlings pure and fair. 
 
 And bid them from a myriad censers offer 
 The sweetest incense, like a voiceless prayer. 
 
 Rejoice, rejoice, all things in Earth and Heaven ! 
 
 Bless the Redeemer with united breath ; 
 Glory and praise be to the victor given, 
 
 Jesus hath triumphed over sin and death ! 
 
EASTER SONG. 
 
 G7 
 
 Rejoice all nations ! Christ our Saviour liveth 
 To help the weak, to raise up those who fall ; 
 
 Joy passing knowledge, lasting peace He giveth, 
 Love, rest, eternal life, offers He to all. 
 
 Meet are our offerings, meet our adoration, 
 
 Dear Mediator, all we owe to Thee ; 
 " 0, wondrous love, which purchased our salvation," 
 
 This be our song, throughout eternity ! 
 
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 MY LOVE. 
 
 AH ALO bright of golden hair 
 Doth crown her royally ; 
 Her low, broad brow is white as foam 
 
 Upon a stormy sea. 
 Like open violets gemmed with dew 
 
 Her laughing, soul-lit eyes, 
 Serene and clear and deeply blue 
 
 As cloudless summer skies ; 
 And bright they beam as fair twin stars 
 
 Through rifted cloud when night 
 Has donned her trailing, sable robes, 
 
 And veiled the moon from sight. 
 
 Her lips are like to coral wet 
 
 By kiss of rippling waves. 
 Less faultless than her teeth the pearls 
 
 That gleam in ocean caves. 
 Her cheeks have caught the faint, sweet smile, 
 
 Of rosebuds ere they blow, 
 
MY LOVE. 
 
 (iO 
 
 And fair her dainty, dimpled chin 
 
 As freshly-fallen snow. 
 Soft is her winning voice, and clear 
 
 As sound of woodland streams, 
 A voice that ever haunts me, sweet 
 
 As music heard in dreams. 
 
 Like lilies are her little hands, 
 
 In fancy even now 
 I feel, bliss ! their soft, pink palms 
 
 Like rose leaves touch my brow ; 
 And falleth on mine ear a sound, 
 
 Of all sweet sounds most sweet. 
 The coming footsteps, light and low, 
 
 Of dancing, fairy feet. 
 My love, my life ! how thrills my heart 
 
 With joy unfelt, unknown. 
 Ere Heaven had sent thee to my side. 
 
 My peerless one, my own ! 
 
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 ii 
 
 H ill 
 

 AT TAETING. 
 
 BEFORE wc said farewell, upon my hand 
 He pressed two kisses, tenderly and slow ; 
 The first fell just below this golden band 
 
 (His pledge of troth), here, where the blue veins 
 show. 
 
 The second kiss he folded in my palm. 
 
 Saying the while, " My darling, ne'er forget 
 
 That thus I seal thee mine, in storm and calm. 
 Come weal, come woe, until life's sun shall set. 
 
 " 0, love of mine ! I consecrate these hands 
 To noble deeds, to Christ-like ministry. 
 
 Ready for harvesting the world's field stands. 
 Go forth to reap, the Master needeth thee." 
 
 A third kiss on my brow he fondly pressed, 
 
 And said, " Dear, keep thy thoughts as pure as 
 snow," 
 
 Then in a rain on lips and eyes the rest 
 Fell passionately, while he whispered low. 
 
 
 f. 
 
AT PARTING. 
 
 71 
 
 " My own, my own, from these sweet lips aiul eyes 
 Let Truth's white soul speak outj thou caust not 
 tell 
 
 How many hopeless souls up to the skies 
 Thy faithfulness may lift from Doubt's dark hell," 
 
 ; Ho went afar, a hero's part to take 
 
 In life's fierce battle ; trustingly I pray, 
 And strive to reach great heights for his dear sake, 
 Knowing he'll come again to me, some day. 
 
 When life seems hard, close to my aching brow 
 
 And tearful eyes I clasp caressingly 
 The hand he kissed. The memory of that vow, 
 
 And baptism of love, come back to me. 
 
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 •11! 
 
 And I am glad, content and strong once more, 
 Grief spreads her sable wings and disappears. 
 
 I pray " God bless my darling," o'er and o'er, 
 And chide my weak heart for its foolish fears. 
 
 'y ( 
 
.11^ 
 
 MY LADY. 
 
 SHE is not sedate and queenly, 
 CrowLcd with hair of ebon hue, 
 Not a fay witli golden tresses 
 
 Shading eyes of heavenly blue ; 
 She is not an ideal airy, — 
 
 Dove or floweret, pearl or star, 
 Not an angel is my lady, 
 But a creature dearer far. 
 
 Just a little, laughing maiden, 
 
 Dusky-haired and hazel-eyed. 
 With a heart so filled with gladness. 
 
 Room remains for naught beside. 
 Fresh and pure as meadow daisy. 
 
 Ever gentle, loving, gay ; 
 Like a sunbeam from my spirit. 
 
 Chasing all the gloom away. 
 
MY LADY. 
 
 AS I gladly hasten homeward, 
 
 When the busy day is o'er, 
 Comes to me the golden vision 
 
 Of a bright face at the door ; 
 Round, white arms my neck encircling, 
 
 Rosy lips pressed close to mine, 
 Breathing welcome ; ah, my lady, 
 
 Face and arms and lips are thine ! 
 
 Bright eyes dim and Time's rude finger 
 
 Changes e'en the fairest face, 
 Care and sorrows of a life-time 
 
 Bow forms once erect with grace ; 
 But heart-beauty fadeth never, 
 
 'Tis a loveliness divine. 
 And thou hast this priceless treasure 
 
 Darling little lady mine ! 
 
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 A PENITENTIAL TRAYEK. 
 
 OGOD, I lift my tearful eyes to Thee, 
 Hear Thou my prayer ; 
 For comfort, Lord, I cry, imploringly, — 
 My sorrow share. 
 
 Here at Thy feet, my wounded heart I lay, — 
 
 Thou wilt not spurn, 
 Though I have wandered from Thee far away, 
 
 Nor would return. 
 
 Though oft with patient love Thou didst beseech, 
 ^ ^ In wrath command, 
 
 I heeded not the lessons Thou wouldst teach, 
 I built on sand. 
 
 I sought with earthly love my soul to feed, 
 
 But all in vain, — 
 It left me famishing in hour of need. 
 
 And brought but pain. 
 
 Rending the veil that hid my inner life 
 
 From human eyes, 
 Revealed past failures, errors, sorrow, strife, — 
 
 In cold surprise. 
 
 ♦ i" 
 
 
A PENITENTIAL PRAYER. 75 
 
 Love, seeking for perfcctior , scornful turned 
 
 From mc asi''3 
 The comfort, help, and ^.rength for which I 
 yearned, 
 
 Were each denied. 
 
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 Now, over faithful Friend, to Thee I come ; 
 
 Dear Lord, forgive ! 
 A wcar_^ w iderer returning home, 
 
 J. pray receive. 
 
 An c^pty, undivided heart at last 
 
 I offer Thee, 
 0, seal it Thine, — my broken idols cast 
 
 Afar from mc. 
 
 With willinf; feet I'll follow evermore 
 Wnere Thou dost lead ; 
 
 Thy love hath proven an exhaustless store 
 In hour of need. 
 
 Within the shelter of Thine arms alone 
 
 Is peace and rest ; 
 Dear, tender Saviour, gladly do T own 
 
 Thy love is best, 
 
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ACROSTIC. 
 
 ijii. 
 
 
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 EAVEN'S richest blessings I would wish for 
 thee, 
 
 Ever unclouded may thy life-sky be ; 
 Love's firmest tendrils round thy heart entwine ; 
 Earnest and faithful friends be always thine ; 
 Nightly may angels guard thy slumbers sweet, 
 Leading by day aright thy careless feet. 
 And guiding thee where living waters flow 
 Close to the Shadowing Eock, — in grief or woo 
 Yield thou thy will to Christ, who loves thee so. 
 Free mayst thou ever be from pain and care, 
 And all thy years on earth be glad and fair, 
 Radiant as thy life's morning be the night ; 
 Glad thine awakening in the Land of Light, — • 
 Over the river deep, where all is bright. 
 
 
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TIIllOUGH DEATH TO LIFE. 
 
 GONE arc the fair suiniiicr flowers; 
 Lifeless and sliroiuled they lie ; 
 'Neath the bright-tinted leaves that in showers 
 Fall earthward to wither and die. 
 
 Gone arc the sweet hopes we cherished, — 
 
 Faded and crushed by despair, 
 Like the frail, brilliant blossoms they perished, 
 
 And left us but sorrow and care. 
 
 Vanished, our best-loved and fairest 
 
 Gone to the " echoless shore ; " 
 Death culls first the buds that are rarest, — 
 
 Our sore hearts they gladden no more. 
 
 Sad thoughts that will come all unbidden 
 
 As daily the boughs barer grow. 
 While the blue and the silver are hidden 
 
 Above, and Earth tear-bathed below 
 
 Lies shivering, for Winter delay eth 
 The sheeny, white garment to bring 
 
 In which her cold form he arrayeth 
 Till crocus stars herald the Sj)ring. 
 
 1^ 
 
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78 
 
 TIIIIOUGIT DEATH TO LIFE. 
 
 0, faithless ! — Again in tlio .shadow 
 Of dim woods, the violets their eyes 
 
 Will open, and daisies the meadows 
 Gem o'er, as the stars gem the skies. 
 
 Fair Juno will return crowned with roses, 
 When Nature, rich-robed like a queen. 
 
 Day by day rarer jewels discloses 
 Bedecking her raiment of green. 
 
 To hearts where no flower of hope bloweth, 
 Storm-tossed on the rough waves of grief, 
 
 Whoso bitterness only God kuoweth, 
 A lesson of hope and belief 
 
 These changes must teach. He who maketh 
 The sunshine to follow the rain, 
 
 Who speaks and the frozen earth waketh, 
 To smile in fresh beauty again,^- 
 
 Thus ever His promise repeateth. 
 That after Death's winter is o'er, 
 
 A home for His loved ones awaiteth. 
 Where flowerets will bloom evermore. 
 
JOHNNY'S TJCTTl'lU. 
 
 T 
 
 "1 vKAR Nod, your IcUor's come at last, 
 
 -^^^ And Nolly's cockatoo, 
 
 Old Captain Cable bron<^ht tlioni botli, 
 
 'Tvvas pretty good of you 
 To write so much, when it's so hot ; 
 
 How jolly brown you'll be — 
 Just like a heathen Hottentot — 
 
 When you come back from sea ! 
 
 I don't believe I'd care to hunt 
 
 In jungles, — at a show 
 I'm just as near a lion's jaws 
 
 As I would care to go. 
 Suppose the cannibals you saw 
 
 Had nothing left to eat ? 
 Phew ! they'd have built a fire, I'm sure. 
 
 And roasted you for meat. 
 
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 V 
 
 80 johnny's LETTER. 
 
 We've all been down at Grandma Lee's, 
 
 And didn't we have fun ! 
 We jumped the fences, climbed the tiees, 
 
 And made the squirrels run ; 
 High on a load of hay we rode 
 
 With Jack and Uncle Nate ; 
 We hunted nests, and fed the chicks. 
 
 And swung upon the gate. 
 
 We fished and waded in the creek. 
 
 Shook apples off the trees — 
 (I ate so many I was sick) — 
 
 We chased the bumble bees ; 
 They stung poor Bobby on the nose, 
 
 And Katy in the eye ; 
 It made them look so very queer, 
 
 And oh, how they did cry ! 
 
 Dick made believe he had a horse, 
 
 'Twas nothing but a rail ; 
 I tied the duster on behind. 
 
 It looked just like a tail ; 
 But he got tired, let go the rein. 
 
 And tumbled on a log. 
 Then when I ran to call nurse Jane 
 
 I fell across the dog. 
 
 «» 
 
■■ .gaiiMmii'TP^ '.'^Bft'j 
 
 JOHNNY S LETTER 
 
 81 
 
 # 
 
 I haven't got much more to say, 
 
 And I must go to school. 
 I missed my lesson yesterday, 
 
 T said " a little bull," 
 When teacher asked what bullet meant - 
 
 Why shouldn't it be so 
 When streamlet means a little stream ? 
 
 That's what I'd like to know. 
 
 There goes the bell ! I must be off — 
 
 I 'most forgot to say 
 That Charley has the whooping-cough, 
 
 And Tom fell off a. dray. 
 But 'cej)ting them we're all quite well ; 
 
 Good-by, remember now. 
 If you don't bring a monkey home 
 
 There'll be the biggest row. 
 
 J 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 THROUGH THE STOllM. 
 
 LOUD wails the wind to-iiiglit, 
 And shudd'ring gusts of rain 
 Swept by the tempest's might 
 
 Dash gainst the window-pane. 
 Ilicjli on the wreck-strewn shore 
 
 Breaketh an angry sea, 
 And mingled with its roar 
 Seem moans of agony. 
 
 ■w 
 
 Hark to the mournful dirge 
 
 It chanteth ceaselessly ; 
 To you the sobbing surge, — 
 
 A requiem to me, 
 O'er him who lieth deep 
 
 Beneath the foam-crowned waves, 
 Where tangled sea-weeds creep 
 
 O'er lonely, nameless graves. 
 
THROUGH THE S T O U M . 
 
 83 
 
 On just as wild a night 
 
 My sailor bravo was lost, 
 Went down, the cliffs in sight. 
 
 Upon the beach was tossed, 
 With broken mast and spar, 
 
 One splintered plank. A name 
 They read thereon, — North Star. 
 
 His bark had borne the same. 
 
 Adown the vista dim 
 
 Of vanished days, through tears 
 I gaze the while I trim 
 
 My lamp, — alight for years. 
 Again upon the shore 
 
 I stand, a happy bride, 
 With him whose ship no more 
 
 Will sail in with the tide. 
 
 And still it is aglow, 
 
 This hope in my sad heart. 
 Oft in the drear, dark night 
 
 I wake with joyful start. 
 His cheery voice I hear, 
 
 His smiling face I sec, 
 Alas, the dreamlight fades, 
 
 And he comes not to me. 
 
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.#^l%^i\<^. 
 
 ^■^ TllllOirGif Ti/K STOllM. 
 
 Wild wiiuls, mad wavo^ moan on, 
 
 Woop sidlen, starless skios. 
 For mo there bieaks a dawn, 
 
 An endless day shall rise. 
 lar on tlic Inrther shore, 
 
 Beyon<l life's troubled sea, 
 Where storms come nevermore, 
 
 My love avvaiteth me." 
 
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 ^(i) 
 
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 ' S*£k" ''^'"T.m^Hiw.ani^ 
 
 MEMENTOS. 
 
 1 J 
 
 
 TV 
 
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 TWO h«ilt'-worn shoes, a tress of soft brown hair, 
 A broken toy, torn Look, and empty chair. 
 What memories tliey bring ! 
 I hear once more the patter of his feet. 
 The merry laughter ringing clear and sweet. 
 
 And see him as of old about to spring 
 To my embrace, — forgetting, ir my joy, 
 That in a fairer home, beyond the sky, 
 My nestling now doth ' ing. 
 
 Here is his little cot, the pi. low soft 
 His WQG head rested on so ofn, mo oft, 
 
 O, it does most seem 
 I could again to mine his red lips press, 
 And feel his baby fingers' dear caress. 
 
 And sec his dark eyes gleam ; 
 Alas, that little grave with grass o'ergrown, 
 "Our Darling" carved upon the mnrlile stone, 
 
 Dispels my happy dream. 
 
 # 
 
 * 
 
 M 
 
 ^M 
 
 «'• ., .T *>" 
 
 
MEMENTOS. 
 
 My beautiful, my precious one, in vain 
 reach out empty arms, athrill with pain, — 
 
 With love and longing time can never quell, 
 cannot meekly kiss the chastening rod 
 Held o'er me by a just and pitying God, 
 
 My weak heart will rebel. 
 Father ! with Thy peace my spirit fill, 
 Help me to say, submissive to Thy will, 
 " Thou doest all thino-s well. 
 
AN OWER TllUE TALE. 
 
 PROFESSOR Squcallitwelli stood one day, 
 Precisely as the clock was striking four, 
 At neighbor De Veneer's across the way, 
 
 And pulled the bell full seven times or more. 
 
 I wondered what the long delay could mean, 
 
 For at this hour each day the parlor blinds 
 Were opened, and Cecilia could be seen 
 
 And heard, but only cultivated minds 
 And ears could full appreciate the strains 
 
 Which woke the echoes many blocks around — 
 Shrieks as of one in purgatorial pains — 
 
 And oft I wished the singer underground 
 In some enchanted palace fast asleep 
 
 For fifty years to come, or 'neath the sea 
 In pearl-paved cavern of the briny deep, 
 
 Such as Jules Verne describeth knowingly. 
 
 The learned Professor turns at last, — when wide 
 The door is thrown. Before him doth appear 
 
 The fair Cecilia's father — at his side 
 
 She stands, her lovely face bedewed with tears. 
 
 ''"SW 
 
 iii 
 
.A;*>x\i»to;*:uv ■ « 
 
 88 
 
 AN OWER TRUE TALE. 
 
 'ill! 
 
 Thus to the man of notes in wrath he spoke, 
 " Begone, and cross my threshold never more ! " 
 
 From stunned surprise the signor grave awoke 
 And questioned, " Why thus spurn me from thy 
 door ? " 
 
 " Why ! Yester eve," the angry parent said, 
 
 " A carriage in hot haste through yonder gate 
 Was driven, then came shrieks would wake the 
 dead — 
 
 The bell rang furiously — I did not wait 
 The maid's slow coming ; rushing down the stair, 
 
 In haste the door I opened, and I saw 
 Two men, who held a raving maniac there, 
 I A woman in straight jacket. Mute with awe 
 I stood a moment, horrified, amazed, 
 
 Demanding, when at last my voice I found. 
 What meant this outrage ? Then on me they gazed 
 
 In turn indignant. One said, ' I'll be bound 
 Here's some mistake ; I thought 'twas rather grand — 
 
 Isn't this a lunatic asylum ? ' ' No ! ' 
 I thundered. Well, I hope you understand. 
 
 Your squalling here is ended, — now, sir, go ! " 
 
FOUGET-ME-NOTS. 
 
 A LL o'er; in ai^ony upon his f^ravc 
 -^-^ A last, fond look they cast, and leave him 
 
 there 
 In dreand(iss rest, — their joy and pride, — to save 
 
 All unavailing proved their love and care. 
 
 Four days of desolation pass away, 
 
 Four nights of anguish, and they come once moi-e 
 To deck his grave with flowers, to weep and pray 
 
 For one faint whisper from the farther shore. 
 
 'Tis all in vain, — nor voice, nor sigh replies ; 
 
 With doubled sense of loss they turn away — 
 When, starting suddenly, the sister cries, 
 
 In joyful tones, " 0, mother, mother, stay ! " 
 
 , I: 
 
 And parting with her eager, trembling hands 
 The little spears of green upon the sod — 
 
 Behold, where pale and mute the mother stands, 
 Three blue forget-me-nots look up to God. 
 
 ' 1 ■; 
 
oo 
 
 F 11 (J E T - M E - N O T .s . 
 
 VVitli uycs upraised to Heaven she spoke at last — 
 "The Lord hath seen our tears, and heard our 
 prayers ; 
 
 His angel hath these lovely blossoms cast, 
 Low at our feet, to bless us unawares. 
 
 " To me they seem as fresh from Paradise, 
 And breathe their tender message lovingly. 
 
 O, flowerets sweet, so like my darli.ig's eyes, 
 A precious, priceless boon arc ye to me ! 
 
 " To father, mother, sister, do ye bear 
 
 These words of fond remembrance ; and ye teach 
 Of Him who saith * Upon Mg cast thy care,' 
 
 In silence far more eloquent than speech. 
 
 " 0, God, to Thee we lift our grateful pra-yer, 
 For Thou hast given consolation sweet; 
 
 Forget Its not, dear Lord, our sorrow share, — 
 Lo, here we lay our burden at Thy feet." 
 
««i 
 
 I 
 
 BENEATH THE TINES. 
 
 ■¥■- 
 
 BENEATH the shadow of tho pines 
 I stood long years ago, 
 Full sweet upon the breeze was borne 
 
 The river's distant flow, 
 But sweeter far to me the tale 
 
 My lover whispered low, 
 That moonlit night beneath the pines 
 So many years ago. 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the pines 
 
 Yet once again we met, 
 To part — perchance, no more to meet. 
 
 My heart can ne'er forget 
 That bitter pain : I did not know 
 
 That I had loved him so. 
 Until, alone, beneath the pines, 
 
 I stood, long years ago. 
 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
BENEATH THE PINES. 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the pines, 
 
 At evo I oft would stray 
 And dream of him, my soldier bravo, 
 
 To weep and fondly pray 
 For that p;lad hour when laurel-crowned 
 
 With victory aglow, 
 He'd come to woo me 'ncath the pines, 
 
 So many years ago ! 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the pines 
 
 We stand again to-night, 
 With love unchanged — though o'er my brow 
 
 Are threads of silver white, . 
 And liorht our hearts, as in the hours 
 
 We wandered to and fro 
 Beneath the shadow of the pines 
 
 So many years ago. 
 
DECORATIVE AKT. 
 
 FROM DICKS POINT OF VIEW. 
 
 YES, I'm sick of it all ; 
 At every step T take, 
 In parlor, bedroom, hall. 
 
 It's " Dick, take care you'll break 
 That lovely plaque, I know ; " 
 They're at me all the time, 
 No matter where I go 
 
 'Tis just the same old rhyme, 
 
 I hate the latest styles. 
 
 They've carried off my rug, 
 And put in horrid tiles. 
 
 The queerest looking jug 
 Stands on the mantel shelf, 
 
 Beside a big blue cup ; 
 (Ma says they're rare old dolf) 
 
 I'd like to smash them up ! 
 
94 DECORATIVE ART. 
 
 Then over mother's bed 
 
 Is hung a monstrous owl — 
 The moon's behind its head. 
 
 A crane, or some odd fowl, 
 Is painted on a screen. 
 
 That stands the other side — 
 With dragons red and green, 
 
 And men all goggle-eyed, 
 
 Two butterflies, en A things 
 
 Like grubs, — a yellow rose, 
 Fat baby boys with wings. 
 
 And hardly any clothes. 
 The parlor s full of stuff. 
 
 Lamps, urns, all kinds of ware, — 
 I think we have enough, — 
 
 Pa growls like any bear. 
 
 So many bills come in 
 For china, brushes, paint ; 
 
 I think it is a sin, 
 
 And would provoke a saint, 
 
 But no one seems to care, 
 • They're buying all the time ; 
 
 It's anything but fair. 
 For I can't ijct a dime. 
 
The girls and mother, too, 
 
 Keep talking night and day 
 Of crewels, patterns new 
 
 For doily s — ivhat are they ! 
 It's always " Dick be still," 
 
 " You've spoiled my lovely leaf "- 
 I'll run away, I will. 
 
 And be an Indian chief ! 
 
 ?i 
 
 DECORATIVE ART. 
 
 95 
 
FOLLIES OV TO-DAY. 
 
 .-^r 
 
 /^ADDIE, Mintic, Hidic, Hodic, 
 ^-^ Pattie, Pinkie, Dulie, Dodic, 
 Flossie, Nonie, Tannie, Todie, 
 
 List, ye shades I pray ! 
 Grandamcs all, of every station, 
 Issue forth in protestation, 
 And rebuke with indignation. 
 
 Follies of to-day ! 
 
 Gussie, Hennie, Minnie, Mattie, 
 DoUie, Gratie, Sadie, Hattie, 
 Tiny, Beebie, Birdie, Cattie, 
 
 And a dozen more 
 Full as senseless and erratic. 
 O, ye belles, who search the attic. 
 Take their names, — 'twould be ecstatic, 
 
 With the robes they wore. 
 
 N. 
 
FOLLIES OF TO-DAY. 
 
 97 
 
 Grand Matilda, now but Tillio, 
 Milicent, instead of Millie, 
 Sweet Cecilia, lost in Gillie ; 
 
 Sarah, Edith, Kate, 
 Jane, Eliza, Rachel, Dora, 
 Helen, Lucy, Ruth or Flora, 
 Anna, Margaret and Nora, 
 
 Mary, noiu 'tis Mate. 
 
 Fathers, husbands, all are mourning. 
 Fashion s strange, uncouth adorning, 
 For the " gentler sex " are scorning 
 
 Feminine attire. 
 Collars, neckties, Derbys, Sailors, 
 Coats and vests by modish tailors 
 Made — and ulsters, — canes from Gayloi's, — 
 
 Can they more desire ? 
 
 Yea, " sub rosa," be it spoken. 
 
 Else my peace of mind were broken. 
 
 Cigarettes — the signs betoken ; 
 
 What will follow then ? 
 Very little more is needing, ;. 
 Other garments superseding 
 Skirts. 'Tis thus Dame Fashion's leading — 
 
 Strike for rights, men ! 
 
 k 
 
"MY GRACE IS SUFFICIENT FOll 
 
 THEE." 
 
 BE patient when trials assail thee, 
 And hope seems to fade from thy sight ; 
 When the glory of morning has vanished 
 
 And left but the darkness of night ; 
 In deepest affliction de* r not, 
 
 Though bitter the or ^i may be, 
 Remember the Saviour's sweet promise, 
 " My grace is sufficient for thee." 
 
 '\ 
 
 -■'■#• 
 
 If blossoms of joy droop and wither, 
 
 When fairest and brightest they seemed, 
 Forget not, " through great tribulation," 
 
 Have passed all the white-robe redeemed ; 
 When loved ones, thy nearest and dearest, 
 
 To join them, cross death's narrow sea, 
 Murmur not, He is faithful who promised, 
 
 " My grace is sufficient for thee." 
 
" MY GRACE IS SUFFI(!IENT FOR TIIEE." 
 
 99 
 
 Then trust, though the clouds frown Jibovc thee, 
 
 And thorns cluster thick 'neath thy feet. 
 While others have flowerets and sunshine, 
 
 And quaff from, life's chalice but sweet ; 
 The reason wo shall know hereafter — 
 
 On earth we but darkly can see ; 
 Then courage, He suffered, who saycth 
 
 " My grace is sufficient for thee." 
 
 Grief purifies, fits us for Heavon — 
 
 A Father's hand holdeth the rod ; 
 In joy we forget the kind giver, 
 
 In sorrow we turn unto God ; 
 Have faith, then. He ne'er will forsake thee, 
 
 And merciful ever shall be ; 
 To tried souls and tempted. He whispers — 
 
 " My grace is suflicient for thee." 
 
 iv 
 
 
 f1 
 
 n 
 
 ii 
 
SUNSET. 
 
 ABOVE the hills, mist-mantled, a wondrous 
 glory lies, 
 Bi'ight billows — gold and amethyst — flood all the 
 western skies. 
 
 O, perfect, matchless pictm'c ! 0, scene suLliincly 
 
 fair! 
 A glimpse of Heaven seeming, of glory shining 
 
 there. 
 
 How slow the purple paleth, the crimson fades to 
 
 g^ay. 
 
 While sad the night-breeze waileth above the dying 
 day. 
 
 Its joys and griefs are ended, its cares and trials 
 
 past. 
 Its record sealed, 0, solemn thought, what if it were 
 
 our last ? 
 
S U N s i: T . 
 
 101 
 
 Ah, can it bo that Heaven's gates each even stand 
 
 ajar, 
 While guardian angels wing their flight, unseen, 
 
 from star to star ? 
 
 And if the City's portals are so beautiful to sec, 
 What must the hidden splendor of the " many 
 mansions " be ? 
 
 This hour to me doth holy seem, my soul goes forth 
 
 in prayer 
 To God who hath to mortals given a scene so grand, 
 
 so fair ; 
 
 And when my life's last sun hath set, and death's 
 
 • long night is nigh, 
 O, may I wake in that bright land, where daylight 
 ne'er shall die. 
 
THE OllIGIN OF THE GUELDER 
 
 ROSE. 
 
 THE legend saith a lovely maiden died, 
 And to her stainless soul heaven's portals wide 
 Were opened, and amid the white-clad throng 
 She stood and heard the never-ending song. 
 Yet seemed the fields Elysian incomplete. 
 So far from those she fondly loved— and fleet 
 Her gentle spirit earthward winged its way 
 To haunt each spot held dear in life's brief day, 
 When suddenly before her doth appear 
 Her guardian angel. " Wherefore art thou here ? " 
 He questioned. She made answer, pleadingly : — 
 " Sad even in Paradise was I. To me. 
 Oh, grant this boon : I would a flower become. 
 And bloom in beauty near my earthly home." 
 
 The pitying angel smiled and said, " Rejoice ; 
 Thy prayer prevails — speak; lo,thou hast thy choice ! 
 What wouldst thou be ? a glorious tulip rare. 
 Resplendent with the hues that monarchs wear ?" 
 
Till': OIIKUN OF TIIK tJUELDEU HOSE. 103 
 
 " A tulip ?" " Nay, she dotli but cliariu the eyes — 
 8ho liath no fragrance— nought but gorgeous dyeH." 
 
 " A lily r " She doth lift her head on high, 
 And seeming saith, * No flower so fair as I.' " 
 
 " A queerly rose ?" " Nay, cruel thorns hath she, 
 And wounds the hand that clasps her lovingly." 
 
 "A grand camellia ?" "Nay: since power to choose 
 Thou givest, I would bo a guelder-rose." 
 
 " What ! bloom alone amid the frost and snow, 
 While icy winds against thee rudely blow — 
 So soon to perish in thy loveliness. 
 Nor ever feel the zephyr's soft caress ?" 
 
 "Yes, thus I'd live, though but for one brief day, 
 If, while my life was fading fast away, 
 I could announce the coming of the spring, 
 And bid the frost-sealed earth awake and sing !" 
 
A MEMENTO QUILT. 
 
 ri^EN years ago this very day 
 -L Seven merry maidens met >^ 
 
 At Deacori Dean's, — ym|i scene so gay 
 
 Lives in my memory yet. 
 From satin work-bag each one drew 
 
 A lustrous, silken square. 
 Log-cabin pattern — every hue 
 
 Of beauty blended there, — 
 
 Rose, ruby, lilac,"gold, and grey. 
 
 Pink, purple, garnet, groen, 
 Flame-tints, like clouds at close of day, 
 
 The opal's changeful sheen. 
 On every velvet centre bar 
 
 Was stitched the giver's name. 
 One of our galaxy — a star 
 
 As yet unknown to fame — 
 
sssz 
 
 ""* ■■■■">«■ 
 
 i 
 
 A MEMENTO QUILT. 
 
 Daisy, the deacon's pet and pride, 
 
 The fairest of our band. 
 Was soon to wed — a loving bride : 
 
 Far in a foreign land 
 Her home would be, — this gift to mind 
 
 The fate of each would bring, 
 And nimble fingers joined and lined. 
 
 While liearts were fluttering. 
 
 For oft w^ wondered, that glad day, 
 
 Who next would be a wife : 
 Our haughty beauty, Alice Grey, 
 
 Declared she'd end her life 
 In convent cell, before she'd choose 
 
 A lord with auburn hair ; — 
 But who a million could refuse 
 
 With ruddy locks to share ! 
 
 Poor Alice ! oft I see her ride 
 
 Abroad in lonely state, 
 Her petted poodle at her side : 
 
 I know she finds too late 
 That love is better far than gM, 
 
 And lace and diamonds pall 
 When hearts are empty, sordid, cold, 
 
 And joy beyond lec ill. 
 
 a 
 
 105 
 
106 
 
 A MEMENTO QUILT. 
 
 Wild, wilful Kate with scorn averred 
 
 That parsons she despised, 
 With solemn faces, gowns absurd ! 
 
 Her liberty she prized. 
 Now at the rectory she rules. 
 
 Dispensing cordials, tracts, — 
 Presides at meetings, visits schools. 
 
 Armed, Gradgrind-like, with facts. 
 
 Eena's romantic heart we knew 
 
 Was on a hero set, — 
 A young lieutenant brave and true, — 
 
 His tarnished epaulet 
 She prized of all her treasures most . 
 
 He fell in frontier war. 
 While she at Syrian mission post 
 
 Now toils from friends afar. 
 
 Grace vowed a widower his suit 
 
 Would plead with her in vain ; 
 Since second love was tasteless fruit : 
 
 She married Judge Germaine ! 
 His third spouse, too ! — each former wife 
 
 Left olive branches four, 
 U miily bo3^s, at endless strife, 
 
 Wich mischief brimmir-^ o'er. 
 
A MEMENTO QUILT. 
 
 i 
 
 Bright Bess rejected wealth and fame 
 
 And wed Squire Sheldon's son, 
 An honest farmer ; — riches came 
 
 By earnest effort won. 
 Now merry sons and daughters fair 
 
 Make gay the homestead old ; 
 Yet smooth her brow and bright her haii', 
 
 No silver midst its gold. 
 
 And my life-story, Marguerite : — 
 
 Stern duty bravely done 
 Reward at last so full and sweet 
 
 Life crowned, love's kingdom won ! 
 " One question more ? " Ah, tearful-eyed 
 
 I answer, Back to me 
 This silken web, when Daisy died, 
 
 Was sent from o'er the sea ! 
 
 107 
 
 >» 
 
A PEACIICAL PROPOSAL. 
 
 I CO ME not to win you with wealth, 
 To offer position or fame ; 
 My riches are energy, health, 
 
 Hope, youth, and a good, honest name- 
 Strong hands that are willing to toil, 
 
 A heart brave to bear and to do ; 
 And though at my suit you may smile, 
 I dare come a-wooing to you. 
 
 A rhyme, my beloved, I can't weave 
 
 In praise of your eyes or your hair ; 
 If plain, simple prose you'll believe, 
 
 To me you're surpassingly fair. 
 By flowers some confess, it is true. 
 
 The love they lack courage to speak. 
 But the price of the buds, though but few. 
 
 Would keep us in coal for a week. 
 
■•i 
 
 " ■ "I " 
 
 A PRACTICAL PROPOSAL. 
 
 101> 
 
 No hero am I, dear, I own ; 
 
 I wield but the truth as a lance ; 
 But I love, and I'll love you alone 
 
 For aye — if you give me the chance. 
 I'll strive to win all, for your sake, 
 
 A man worth the name would most prize ; 
 But can't swear m}'^ heart you would break 
 
 Though I should read scorn in your eyes. 
 
 I plead not with eloquent speech ; 
 
 I'd hate to get down on my knees ; 
 The lovers who vow and beseech, 
 
 Coquettes are best fitted to please. 
 And even if you should reject — 
 
 Though 'tis not romantic, I own — 
 A tragedy, pray, don't expect, 
 
 I'd rather live on, though alone. 
 
 f 
 
 # 
 
 ,^ 
 
INVOCATION TO JACK FROST. 
 
 INIMITABLE artist ! mute, unseen, 
 Engraver weird, magician of the night ; 
 Sculptor of chisel noiseless, pencil keen, 
 
 Whither, ah whither hast thou taken flight ? 
 
 The snow fays lingered for a little while. 
 To weave for mother earth a coverlet 
 
 AVith emerald fringes, but the sun's bold smile, 
 Abashed them and they vanished. Winter set 
 
 His royal seal on streamlet, river, lake ; 
 
 But, spurning bondage to the stern Ice King, 
 They rise, rebel, his chilling chains they break. 
 
 And 'mid the broken links leap up and sing. 
 
 We miss his regal ermine, — gaunt trees stand 
 Discrowned. Last year, in robes of silvery sheen 
 
 Pearl-broidered, diamond-dowered throughout the 
 land. 
 Each stood like royal bride, — a forest queen ! 
 
 Oay youths and maidens, happy boys and girls. 
 Sigh for the silver bells' sweet melody, 
 
niM 
 
 FAITH 
 
 113 
 
 To feel like wakeful children wiseii they hear, 
 
 Within a daikened room, 
 The Fathers voice, and, knowing him anear, 
 
 Rest fearless in the gloom. 
 
 O, loving Saviour, perfect all our powers : 
 
 Thou art the living Vine, 
 if we abide in Thee all things uie ours, 
 
 For we, dear Lord, are Thine. 
 
 s