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Smith, at the Departnwnt of Agriculture. '% i da, in the year HAN C. Smith, fE soaring lark from swelling breast may sound Exultant strains that thrill the world below ; The thrush on flute melodious may blow The sweet sad tones that stir the soul profound ; Jut haply, too, on lonely shady mound The wood-bird pipes a heart-song soft and low, That through her own breast sends a cheery glow, 'et brightens, too, the little world around : ind may not one who feels his bosom swell And thrill at every note ::ublime and stron^^ /ho loves the sweet sad melodies that dwell And linger in the heart's recesses long, he while himself he cheers, attempt as well To lighten others with his artless song ? : Mi Co pAr W A |An Th |Th Th Th Th Ea Th |a] In ,Th( En Contcnt0* Pa(,e ^^ Mabel Gray 7 Constancy 19 Aner and Gyne, a New Adam and Eve - - - 22 Morton Hall 3^ A Day with Homer ------ 46 An Autumn Day 60 The Sculptors ----.... 5^ ^^ The Seven Ages of Woman 67 The Human Heart 68 ^i The Young Mother 53 The Child's Call ----... 70 I Early Blighted 7^ [The Silent City ....... ^- A Dream at Eventide ------ 80 In Palliation g^ The Star- - - - . . . . - 81; Encouragement gg VI CONTENTS. Pa(;r On Receiving a Long-Promised Box of Flowers - 91 Question and Answer 92 In the Sunny Land of Youth 94 A Fragile Vase is in Your Hand - - - - 95 Oft When Weary are Our Feet - - - - 96 True Friendship is a Golden Chain - - - 96 May Life for Thee be One Continual Song - - 97 A Wish 98 Friendship 99 Each Flower to Heaven Upturns its Eye - - 100 No Tasks Thy God hath Given Thee - - - loi The Poet's Office 102 A Child Asleep in the Gardens - - - - 104 Thoughtlessness 107 The Girls of Demill 108 Address to a Mummy Cat - - - - - no "Cash" McLeod 117 To Matilda Robins 118 An Acrostic 119 Johnny Science and His Late Discovery at the North Pole 120 PACiE ers - 91 - 92 - 94 - 95 - - 96 - - 96 - 97 - - 98 - 99 - 100 - loi - 102 - 104 - 107 - 108 - no - 117 - 118 - 119 at the - 120 MABEL GRAY, AND OTHER POEMS. /IDabcl 6ra\\ Where on one of England's manors Last at even fell the sunbeams, Ashley Lodge in silence lay ; At the vale and hillside's meeting, Where first crept the stealthy shadows From their noontide hiding-places, Was the home of Mabel Gray. Ashley Lodge lay wrapped in silence, For the master from its portals Death had beckoned years before : Lady Ashley with her children Left the home where every turning Brought remembrance of the loved one Who should tread its walks no more. T 8 MABEL GRAY. Tenant farmers tilled the manor \ One of these was Mabel's father. There was not a sloping green, Not a grove with beck'ning branches, Not a dell with happy flowers Met to slumber, that in childhood Mabel's footprints had not seen. There was not a tripping brooklet By whose side she had not rambled, Prattling to its prattling tide ; By it stood no timid lily Bowing, gazing at its image Mirrored in the crystal water, That from Mabel's glance could hide. . Known in every tenant's cottage. They had called her " Happy Mabel," For her heart seemed ever gay ; . At her coming came a brightness Such as when a troop of sunbeams Sudden peep in at the window On a clouded autumn day. ^ MABEL GA'AY. As she rambled gathering flowers By life's wayside, more a woman's, Less a child's, her bearing grew. On she followed in the pathway Till the sunny land of childhood Lay behind her, and before her That of womanhood in view. Was this " Happy Mabel " pretty ? If a brow of new-born snowflakes, Lustrous eyes of liquid brown, Tresses suci. as ever England Giv... to all her fairest maidens, Tresses lit with lurking sunbeams. Ample tresses, flowing down ; 9 Lips whose tintings filled with envy Even England's bright-lipped roses ; Cheeks of lustre rich and rare ; If these, with the grace of flowers Waltzing with the playful zephyrs,— If these make a maiden pretty. Then was " Happy Mabel " fair. ~ 10 MABEL GRAY. Near her home a tree stood, shading With its boughs a bank of mosses, At whose foot a streamlet crept. Often here the voice of Mabel Softly on the air of ev'ning Poured its richness, while her fingers Swiftly o'er the lutestring swept. Here one summer ev'ning seated Singing to her lute, a footstep Heard she coming on the way. Looking up she saw approaching. Wearied, stained with dust, a stripling. Near he came, and, pausing by her, Bowed and asked for Farmer Gray. ■ : Soon he found the rugged farmer, Stated that he wished employment. That he had the country sought, For he wearied of the clamor Of his home, the busy city ; Willing were his hands tj labor, Though of farm work knew he naught. A/ABEL GRAY. By his frankness pleased, the farmer Gave the city youth employment With his workmen, day by day. At the failures and the blunders Of the struggling town-bred stripling. At the jests they played upon him, Many a hearty laugh had they. 11 But he struggled on in patience, Laughed with others at his blunders, Till, when two years' time was o'er, "There is not," the farmer boasted, " There is not on all the manor One so trusty, one so skilful, One to equal Evan Moore." Mild blue eyes, that fell if noticed, Mabel oft saw bent upon her Whene'er Evan Moore was nigh. Once, while both alone, she sudden Grew indignant and demanded Why her every step and motion Must be followed by his eye. m 12 MABEL GRAY, " 'Tis because it tells," he answered, "Where my feet would gladly follow; Fault of mine you had not known, If your own had not been guilty." Mabel lost her indignation, And confessed, though not in language. Hers were guilty as his own. I 1 Near her home that tree stood, shading With its boughs a bank of mosses. Near whose foot a streamlet crept. Often here the voice of Mabel Softly on the air of ev'ning Blent with Evan's, while her fingers Swiftly o'er the lutestring swept. Time went dancing by on tiptoe, Pointing to a happy future Strewn with blossoms all the way ; But at last one summer morning Suddenly there came a parting ; Evan had a note demanding His xeturn without delay. MABEL GRAY. So they parted ; but he promised At the autumn's second coming To return his bride to claim. Thus in hope but yet in sadness Parted they, and much he warned her Lest another might deprive him Of his treasure ere he came. 13 Summer passed and golden autumn ; Spring now over hill and meadow Had her vernal mantle flung. Often to that bed of mosses Mabel, at the hour of ev'ning, Stolfc and to her lute repeated Songs she had with Evan sung. Thus one ev'ning seated singing, Looking up she saw a horseman Near her, list'ning to her la)'. Mabel, startled at his presence. Sudden ceased ; and then the horseman Seeing that he had been noticed. Bowed his thanks and rode away. I J I li I Mil 1 i II 14 MABEL GRAY. Soon there came a message saying Ashley Lodge was now refitted, And the former master's son Had returned from home ancestral ; That the tenants of the manor Were to Ashley Lodge invited On the morrow, every one. Happy was the tenants' meeting With the son of former master Cherished still in many a heart. Song of youth and laugh of children Echoed through the shaded pathways, And Night's ebon pinions only Forced the joyous ones to part. Mabel, in the youthful Ashley Recognized the list'ning horseman ; Ashley, too, the singer knew. And to hear that song repeated Oft he found his feet were straying When a dusky veil of silence Night upon the valley threw. MABEL GRAY. 15 Near her home that tree stood, shading With its boughs a bank of mosses, Near whose foot a streamlet crept. Often there the voice of Mabel Softly on the air of ev'ning Blent with Ashley's, while her fingers Swiftly o'er the lutestring swept. Summer was about departing ; , Glimpses of the robes of autumn Were upon the hilltop seen. Ashley took the hand of Mabel, Said that one thing yet was lackinrj In his home, and then he asked her If she there would reign as queen. Mabel, startled at his question, Said she was not bred a lady ; It would wound the Ashley pride If the daughter of a tenant, Bred to labor from her cradle. Ignorant of courtly manners. Should presume to be his bride. m II! Niii II! 1() MABEL GRAY. Ashley to her would not listen, But asserted that her presence Would the proudest home adorn. So at last the maiden yielded ; Seemingly she had forgotten All the vows she made to Evan On that parting summer morn. Autumn came with rustling garments, And with ev'ning's dusky shadows, Came at last her Evan Moore. Weary though he seemed with walking, Covered with the dust of travel, Mabel scarcely rose to greet him As he reached the cottage door. Evan straightway told his errand — This was autumn's second coming : He was here to claim his bride. Mabel told him all the story Of her plighted word to Ashley, How she pleaded her unfitness, How he every word denied. MABEL GRAY. 17 rn. Evan bitterly reproached her. " Dazzled by his courtly manners, Then you have forsaken me. You have every promise broken Made to me that summer morning ; You have all your vows forgotten. Is this woman's constancy?" ents, rs, alking, )r. Mabel at his words reproachful Only smiled, and then asserted She was constant as before. Then she, laughing, told him plainly His deception was a failure — She had in the courtly Ashley Recognized her Evan Moore. I' I— ig: e. " By your eyes of blue I knew you When that ev'ning here to listen You with horseman's trappings came. Were I wrapt in death's deep slumber, And those eyes should bend upon me. Mine would waken from their slumber, And my lips should breathe your name." •fi I'll th. : ji iiiiii 18 MABEL GRAY. Now in Ashley Lodge walks Mabel ; England boasts no form more queenly 'Mong her noble dames of yore ; Not a happier home than Mabel's, Not a prouder man than Ashley. Mabel yet m playful humor Often calls him Evan Moore. Known in every tenant's cottage, Still they call her " Happy Mabel," For her heart seems ever gay ; At her coming comes a brightness Such as when a troop of sunbeams Sudden peep in at the window On a clouded autumn day. M li.i I i I Constancy. f'DREAMED a friend and I together strayed In gardens wide, where grove and gay parterre lAy side by side, and fountains idly tossed Their jewelled droplets in the morning air. To me, the form of this friend worthy seemed Of all the praise that beauty e'er should win. Perchance I thought it such because I knew The beauty of the soul that dwelt within. paused to rest within a latticed bower. Though leafy vines had thick o'erspread the whole, * Eaves-dropping roses panting bosoms pressed Against the bars and hurried glances stole. Tlie gate was near. I asked if she would tread With me the path that wound o'er plain and hill. Sht raised her trusting eyes and grasped my hand So warmly that I feel it clasping still. 11 irrr^ ill Ml II ! ;i If m!!!' 20 COA'S'/ANCy. I plucked a list'ning rose and gave it her ; Then, passing out, an altar we espied Beside the gate. We knelt and vowed that naught Should ever lead one from the other's side. Our way seemed clothed in nature's loveliness. Green groves and sunny valleys smiled to greet Our coming ; gaily brooklets leaped and danced, And flowers cast their garments at our feet. Hut soon the path grew steep and rough ; the hills And dales no more in sunny robes were dressed. The weary foot by jagged cliff was bruised, And blasts with wintry arrows pierced the breast. Then I reproached myself that I had led Her with me o'er this pathway rough and cold ; But, turning, met the same calm, trusting eyes, And found her hand had not relaxed its hold. We passed the mount and found a desert plain Where reveled sultry winds. We long had strayed Its trackless wastes, when suddenly we saw A river far ahead and palm-tree shade. CONSTAxXCV, 21 i that naught s side. rehness. ed to greet d danced, ur feet. >ur hearts took courage at the welcome sight. We hastened to the river, but I sank Oppressed with heat and faint from weariness, Just as we reached the palm-trees on its bank. en while my wearied frame and throbbing brain Foretold the near approach of death's dark hour, Again I bitterly reproached myself That I had led her from her garden bower. h ; the hills I'ere dressed. sed, d the breast. I felt her cooling hand upon my brow ; My flitting spirit, turning, saw her press My parted lips, then close my eyes and sit, Still clinging to my hand, in silentness. led and cold ; ng eyes, its hold. Bars passed. My soul came back and saw Her by a mound whose marble bore my name, Her eyes bent on a faded garden rose, Their pure and trusting love-light still the same. ert plain g had strayed saw le. ^ ;l Buer an& O^nc. ( .1 XI'JW A f)A.}f AXI) EVE. I,! PI' i Upon the earth the gods yet walked, and Hung With lavish hands their gifts on every side ; The bending bough with luscious fruitage hung, And flowers marked their footprints far and wide. Primeval man they formed ; in him combined Hoth shape and radiant beauty like their own, And each bestowed some treasure of the mind, Till all their graces dwelt in him alone. They loved the creature they had formed, and sougli To make an earthly heaven of his home, Where from their mansions, bright with gold in- wrought, They might descend and daily with him roam. To show him all the riches of the earth, The varied wealth of beauty it possessed, Unfold his godlike mind, and wake to birth The slumbering emotions of his breast. In Greece they chose his home, and hand in hand Would wander at his side, as friend with friend, A\K/^ AND GYXE 2\\ 1 Hung side ; ;e hung, ir and wide, ibined leir own, i mind, e. d, and sough Tie, ith gold in- linn roam, >sed, birth St. md in hand with friend, [id all the new-born glories of that land Whose charms for mortal eye shall never end. *hey strayed by streams where mossy bank beguiles To cooling rest 'neath overarching tree ; Together climbed her cliffs, an^^ saw the isles Of marble breast that dot her silver sea. In all its new-wrought robes of freshest hue Surveyed the glorious landscape, spread below A sky that seemed another sea of blue Upreared on pillars capitaled with snow. But, O how swelled I's heart when solemn night With light and silence flooded all the scene, And bathed in glist'ning beauty, marble height, Meand'ring rill and forest wall of green ; While overhead, the world of blue was hung With new-created stars, that seemed to be In love with all the charms of earth, and flung Their radiant splendors on the slumb'ring sea. what a joy it was at such an hour, When earth was young and fair as heav'n above, Xo stray with Venus to some vernal bow'r, *And feel that all the new-born world was love ; To see the naiad from some shadowed stream Emerge and backward brush her dripping hair. B mrr I i I I ii 24 AA£/^ A AD CYNE. Then stand amazed, as waking from a dream, To find herself and all the world so fair ; At early dawn in chaste Diana's train To roam abroad across the breezy hills ; To hear Apollo wake on earth the strain That gods in golden hall with rapture thrills ; To see the swift- winged herald earthward sweep And let some newly given blessing fall , From radiant lip, yet dyed with purple deep Of nectar, lately quaffed in heav'nly hall; In grove of shimm'ring streams and hallowed shades To meet Minerva, fair of brow, and stray Where leafy arches crown the colonnades, And feel the bosom swell beneath the sway Of glowing thoughts expressed in tones that wove Together liquid murmuring of the rill, The mystic lispings of the leafy grove, Its sense of holy calmness, hushed and still. And thus they taught his ear to love each sound Of harmony that stirs the human soul. He stood enrapt, as on enchanted ground, And thrills ecstatic through his being stole, When sang the nightingale in distant glen, Or swaying boughs in sweetest whispers bore earn, lir; s; thrills ; d sweep 11 deep lall; lowed shades stray es, e sway , that wove 1, nd still. ich sound 111. ind, g stole, len, )ers bore AyER AND GY.XE. 25 ■ '." • ■ 4- ' ■% ipieir welcome to the wanton wind, or when I The Triton blew his shell upon the shore. I 'tk> love all forms of beauty he had learned. Beneath their kindly guidance and control. Td this his eyes they constantly had turned Till beauty grew the passion of his souL A rose that slept with slightly parted lips And breathed its fragrance to the airs of night ; A pine that stretched its dainty finger-tips To grasp the glories of the world of light ; A naiad standing on a lakelet beach With swelling breast of snow and beaming brow. Uplifting high her shapely arm to reach An op'ning bud on overhanging bough. Would make him pause and tremble as a maid Before a shrine : into his eyes there came The glint of tears, around his lips there played A smile, and tremors ran through all his frame. Minerva, too, had taught his hand to mould In marble pure whatever form he chose ; He deftly shaped the roses, fold in fold, And drooping lilies, wrapped in all their snows. 1 ,li!i; ill '!!ii Ml(!l , I i I . 26 ^A'^/? ^AZ; 6^}W£". The nymph that paused and raised her slender hand To list'ning ear to catch a distant sound, In eager expectation there would stand With all her charms in marble fetters bound. But though in realms of beauty he abode, Though nymph and naiad haunted grove and stream, Though gods were his companions, and bestowed Whate'er would satisfy his wildest dream. Yet still (perchance by gods themselves inspired), There grew a yearning, vague and undefined. For what his lonely heart had long desired, — Communion with a creature of his kind. On this he mused, until at last he burned In marble an ideal form to mould. The symmetry he in himself discerned. Whatever charm in nymph he could behold, Whatever beauty loving Venus bore. Whatever grace Diana's form displayed, The brow of wisdom calm Minerva wore. Should, all combined, be in this form portrayed. slender hand ind, 5 bound. de, d grove and d bestowed ream, is inspired), indefined, sired, — Kind. ned i behold, yed, ore, rm portrayed f ANER AND CYNE. 27 'e found a block of marble, pure and white ■5 I As when the busy hand of winter sifts rarest down, and wand'ring winds of night Heap all in flowing curves and billowy drifts. KKs dream of perfect beauty here he shaped To lines of grace, with loving hand and warm, In folds of drifted snow enrobed and draped, That half concealed yet still revealed its form. But O, how did his pulses leap and bound When thus complete he saw the figure stand ; The shapely arm, that tapered true and round To slender wrist with dainty lily hand ; The bosom, that a moment seemed to rest When risen to its highest, fullest swell. Where falling robe revealed the downy nest Where all the Loves and Graces chose to dwell, — Where, pillowed, one forever might repose, Forget all pleasure of the earth in this, FcMT rapture, nevermore his eyelids close. Or, dream av ay his happy life in bliss ; The shapely head, on shining shoulders set That rose in glossy whiteness full and round. As when the winter's playful winds have met And heaped in swelling curves a snowy mound ; The brow, that in serenest calmness beamed i III! i i m\ ii^ ;!l! 1 1 I'i^ 28 ANEN AND GYNE. With light of loving heart and gifted mind ; The hair, that framed the forehead round, and streamed In wealth of waving tresses unconfined ; The eyes, that looked a truth and tenderness That into all the heart's recesses stole, Yet seemed a light of wisdom to possess That burst from chambers of the inmost soul ; Thin lips, of dainty curve and parting slight Like op'ning petals of the earliest bloom, Whence kindly words, e'er waiting for their flight, Would float, soft-winged and sweet as faint pe fume, — The lips, where smiles of loving tenderness So frequent had allowed their sweets to lie That it were earthly bliss enough to press Those lips but once, then swoon for joy and die. This marble form was now his only thought, Forgot were all the beauties of his home, The company of gods no more he sought. And at their side no longer would he roam. It stood within the shadow of a grove, Where pines of rarest green embow'red it round, W An ] Thi Y He Atl (S TkL A Whi w Mini Ai The] Tl Eact A 111 mind ; ■ound, and ed; erness le, ss nost soul ; slight loom, their flight, 3t as faint pe mess ts to lie ress joy and die. ought, home, Jght, le roam. ^'red it round, AAER AND GYXE. 29 ere passing clouds their fleeting shadows wove |And distant rill sang low with dreamy sound. jiy ever found him kneeling at the shrine ; i^Vhen Night her glad but silent glances threw lit the form with splendor more divine, |Kis burning heart no bounds of rapture knew. Thus constantly before it would he stand. His heart aflame, his lips entranced and dumb ; He often thought she beckoned with her hand. Unsealed her lips and softly whispered, " Come I " At last, he made his yearning heart believe, (Since gods had ne'er his wildest wish denied,) This might perchance the breath of life receive. And as companion wander at his side. While morning flushed the east with tints of flame, Within the grove where earnestly he prayed Minerva fair and radiant Venus came And stood beside the figure he had made. Their presence to the scene a glory lent ; They smiled and listened to his pleading prayer ; Each as her head she bowed to give assent, A finger laid upon the marble there. iiii! ! 30 ANER AND GYNE. A thrill, a flush through all the figure ran, But cheek and lip were tinged with deeper dyes ; To sink and swell the snowy breast began, And light and life to sparkle in the eyes. She saw him there, she bent her graceful head, Her cheek was flushed with yet a deeper flame, A smile ineffable her lips o'erspread, Then, gliding down, with open arms she came. He fondly clasped her to a throbbing breast That all its wildest ecstasy revealed ; The snowy brow, the crimsoned cheek he pressed, The silence of the fragrant lips unsealed. i" Then o'er the hills the rosy morning streamed. And on the grove a flame of splendor flung. In brighter beauty radiant Venus beamed, And oij Minerva's brow a glory hung. The goddesses, ascending, passed away To heaven's golden halls, and left alone The happy pair, where'er they pleased to stray ; Before them lay the world, and all their own. He took her by the dainty lily hand And in the gold of morning left the bow'r. R^ ANER AND GYNE. 31 jeper dyes ; m, il head, :per flame, she came, reast he pressed, lied. reamed, r flung, led, one o stray ; leir own. Hi found a rarer beauty in the land, %. fresher fragrance in the budding flow'r. Ai|d, list'ning to the music of her words, jThat thrilled him with their low and varied tones, Pdceived a richer note in voice of birds, Qr streamlet murm'ring over mossy stones. The gods were dearer to him than before. With richer hand their blessings they bestowed ; To roam by stream or on the sounding shore. Descended oftener from their high abode. They frequent came the youthful pair to meet ; By noble thought awoke the earnest mind ; By charming sound or sight, and odor sweet, Infused the soul with pleasure more refined. A newer light of splendor o'er the grove, A richer verdure over plain and hill. On rose a rarer tint, they cast, and strove Their happy life lo make yet happier still. His dream of perfect bliss was thus fulfilled, Hb happy choice in love and wisdom made. By day, the fruitful earth they dressed and tilled, At evening rested in its hallowed shade. bow'r. mum .1/1 1 liiil! I !i|t 32 ANEf! AND GVNE. 1 ■ ;i ill I ■ !' ' i ; 1 n ii ■ ;t ilili 1 i!H i 1 ? ip r i 1 1 i i In her he found the love for which he yearned, A finer sense, a deeper feeling shown ; In all their happy converse he discerned A heart that beat responsive to his own. And thus the gladsome days went gliding by In lands of sunny sky and scented airs ; The gods above no blessing would deny, Nor earth below, for all the earth was theirs. /IDorton 1balL ^EAR the storm-swept sea there's a tranquil bay, 1 Rock-bastioned by Nature's hand ; 'At its inlet small in their robes of gray m Two guardian rock-cliffs stand. And so near they stand that can scarcely glide The boat on the wave between ; The sun's bright rays never light its tide ■ Nor stars find a glass serene. On the sea without may the Tempest rave Till stream back his hoary locks, And his steed spur on through the foamy waves To charge the unyielding rocks ; But the bay within is asleep the while, And scarce heaves the slumb'ring breast. The storm without only makes it smile, But never can mar its rest. By this tranquil bay is a village neat, And here, in the summer, they Who are seeking rest in some cool retreat, rom the noise of the city stray. 34 MORTON HALL. VSW There was one friend there, with a pale, sweet face In days of the long ago, Who had made her home in the quiet place, Unmindful of winter snow. When the winter came 'twas a wild, weird home, But she loved it not the less ; She had beauty found in its frozen foam. And charms in its loneliness. For a maiden strange was this Florence More, Her history none could tell, Since she never spoke of her life before She came by this bay to dwell. When we asked the maid of this time to speak, We wished all our words unsaid. Such a pallor rose on the maiden's cheek. Such dimness her eyes o'erspread. All the past to her seemed a close-sealed book, Enwritten with bitter tears. On whose pages she never dared to look And read of the bygone years. By her gentle ways she had cheered the heart Of all who the place had known, And yet each well /new that some hidden dart Was piercing the while her own. f ( MORTOX HALL 35 e, sweet face place, eird home, am, ,ce More, )re to speak, leek, aled book, ook the heart lidden dart ;f For though often smiles round her lip would play, 1 They ever would die again, ^As the glad harp-song when the hand will stray And waken a mournful strain. ffyet the dear pale face when it came brought light, ^- New charms to each circle gave, IAs when moonbeams break from a cloud at night ■■:'f M And silver the rippling wave. ||[n the days gone by, with this Florence More il I loved in the eve to stray P^here the clear waves tripped on the sandy shore m That circled around the bay. As we walked one eve, " Look you there," she said, " How waves and their restless sands All the footprints made on their smooth-worn bed Efface with their busy hands ! Oh ! I wish the paths of the bitter past, Where prints of my feet remain, Were thus smoothed, to be but a blank at last, Or all trodden o'er again." "Let the past," I cried, "be a past forgot ; ^will then seem a blank once more. Let the gloomy clouds of the past come not To darken the way before. .il ll'iil I: .iii; 30 MORTON HALL. Do not think that thine is the only heart That throbs in the human breast And, the while, is pierced with a cruel dart, And finds from its pain no rest. There is not a heart, though it lightly beat, But treasures some grief untold Which it never dares to the world repeat — A world that it deems too cold. Oh ! those heart-hid pains would, half-told, discio; More grief than the world has known. What the human heart can reveal none knows Until he has searched his own." " Not a truer word could thy lips repeat," A voice at our side exclaimed As we passed a rock but to reach whose feet The waves ever vainly aimed. We a stranger found as we quickly turned The speaker of this to seek ; In his eye the glow of i 's youth still burned. And fled not his \:ii'i-browned cheek. " On the shelving rock pray you take a seat," He said, and forsook his own, " And a tale will I of my life repeat That never the world has known." "I MO A' 70 A HALL. 37 ;art I dart, beat, 3eat — f-told, discli wn. ne knows )eat," lose feet urned I burned, ;ek. e a seat," With his eyes bent low on the smooth-worn sand. As if he could there behold All his life outspread by soni- mystic hand, The stranger his story told : On Old England's shore where the wild waves hide The rocks, with their tresses white, 'Mid a shady grove, on a manor wide Arises a Hall in sight. |0n this manor broad, in a clump of trees. The home of my youth is seen [Where first the breath of the coming breeze Sets moving the leaflets green, 'or my home was not in this Morton Hall ; With humbler was I content, LS a rector's son ; for the Mortons all Could boast of their long descent. ^n the years gone by, to this mansion grand ^ A messenger came one day. And the door flung wide with his icy hand And beckoned the sire away. But he heeded not how the father yearned To gaze on the dear young face 38 MORTON HALL. Of his only child, as away he turned, Or clasp her in fond embrace. " With this little Stell I in childhood played ; We built in the grove our home ; By the splashing rills we together strayed And laughed at their spray and foam. Through the Childhood Land we thus made our way; We gathered the sweetest flow'rs On the sunny banks of the streamlets gay, And joy winged the fleeting hours. " While we lingered still in this Childhood Land, Though now were the bounds in view, To the Hall again came the icy hand And beckoned the mother too. Then in bright-lippedStell we a change could trace- More womanly grew her ways ; But there lingered still in her woman's grace The sweetness of childhood days. And the change in her wrought in me a ch^^nge— Less boyish my bearing grew. In our altered life found we pleasure strange, And charms in employments new. MORTON HALL. 39 ed ; d 1 made our 3y» " But the time drew near, as on wings of gold Years fled in their flight away, When in Learning's halls, 'mid their treasures old, My feet for a time must stray. Soon the hour came when we for years must part, Whose moments would slowly fly ; But we vowed we still would be one in heart In mem'ry of days gone by ; And I wore a pledge of the maiden's truth To cheer me in future strife — Is it strange that we who had walked through youth Should dream of a walk through life ? d Land, •uld trace— [race . ch;"inge— ange, [" Ere I went, my sire, who our secret guessed But lent not approving eye, Bade me cherish not in my youthful breast This dream of the days gone by. * In the past, with joy, you have side by side Been walking life's way,' he said, * But in future years will be sundered wide The paths that you each must tread. Hand in hand you've walked,but know not how Gold And PriG-, A-ith relentless hands, Can dissever hearts that in days of old Were linked by the closest bands. 40 MORTON HALL. \ -1 1 1 ' ! \ ; 1 ' ' i To the maiden's shrine will the rich and gay In days of the future flee, And the poor young friend of her childhood play Quite soon will forgotten be.' • True, the maid,' I cried, * has what heart can crave, Has gold and has widespread lands, While the wealth have I that the good God gave— A brain and two willing hands. But a love yet stronger than love of gold God plants in the hearts of youth ; And he gave her wealth of a price untold — He gave her a heart of truth.^ *' So away I sped, and but slowly passed The years in their weary round ; But arrived the hour of return at last, And home I again was found. How /ach well-known scene where my youth was spent Brought back its enjoyments all ! I not long delayed ere my steps I bent To visit old Morton Hall. O'er earth had Night just her mantle flung, And, bent o'er its heaving breast. MORTON HALL. 41 gay )od play can crave, )d gave— She the sweetest song of the zephyr sung, To hush it to perfect rest. And upon the floor of the tree-arched aisle She carpets of dapple threw, While the stars on high with a cheery smile Looked down from their homes of blue. Then the moon arose from her couch of snow And flung back the curtain light, And uending out with her brow aglow, Lot k.d down on the starry night ; While words of cheer did each passing breeze In whispers to me repeat, And with beck'ning hand stood the list'ning trees To hasten my ling'ring feet. uth was g» I" Lightly beat my heart as I onward went, And soon w'.s the Hall in sight ; 'Gainst the colu'nied porch, as a statue, leant Fair St li \n her garments white. From her brov. h;i breeze brushed her tresses brown. Her cheeks with its pure breath fanned, And the climbing vine had but now dropped down A rose in her open hand. i ill ^ mm 42 MORTON HALL. " As I deemed that she for my coming stayed, A youth, from a column nigh, Sprang upon his steed, all in gold arrayed. And waved her a kind good-bye. But some icy hand seemed to me to fall Just then on my heart of Gre, For then suddenly were remembered all The wore .^ ^y warning sire. ' Is it thus,' I s: m reproving tones, ' That you for my coming wait ? ' She replied, * May not, when one mate is flown. The bird seek another mate ?' * Then thy vows of truth were all false,' I cried. And turned from the maiden's sight, And I flung aside in niy angry pride The hand thit had checked my flight ; For my heart was proud, and my wounded pride, As rocks, would no yielding know, Which spurn again the insulting tide Though robed in a jewelled snow. " As I fled, the moon, as she sad gazed down, A glance of reproval threw. And the stars on high with an angry frown Looked down from their homes of blue. ilii MORTON HALL. 43 Their reproaching words did each passing breeze In hisses to me repeat, While with pointing hands stood the taunting trees To call back my hast'ning feet. i: M " But I heeded not as away 1 sped, Nor knew where I made my way ; But at last the madd'ning impulse led My feet where a vessel lay. I ne'er stayed my steps nor a glance cast round ; I gave not a thought, but sprung To the vessel's deck with a sudden bound As she from her mooring swung. 'Twas a wild, rash act of my wounded pride, Repented with bitter tears, In a moment'' s rage thus to cast aside The true-hearted friend of rears. " It was long ere I could again return ; And e'en when I came unknown To my native land, it was but to learn The maid from her home had flown. And a tale is whispered at Morton Hall That she, when her loved one came, 44 MORTON HALL. 11 A^^ 1 ; \ i; i ■ 1 i; Had some idle words from her lip let fall That wounded his heart of flame. He had fled her sight in his rage and grief, And she, in her heart-deep woe. From the Hall had fled to obtain relief, But whither did no one know. But they darkly point to a rocky steep Where garment of hers was found. Where, to end her grief, in the surging deep She mad]y had leaped and drowned. Oh ! my heart's last drop would I give to know That she who sleeps 'neath that wave, To the cruel wretch who had wronged her so One glance of forgiveness gave." Then with trembling feet uprose Florence More, These words from her pale lip fell : " I have pardoned thee, Lawrence, o'er and o'er, But hast thou forgiven Stell ? " And with quiv'ring lip she then told him all — That here she had changed her name ; That her nurse alone at old Morton Hall Had known that she hither came ; MORTOX HALL. 45 That the garment found on the rocky steep Forgotten had been one day When from scenes recalling her sorrow deep She fled to the shore away. I arose and stole from the quiet place, But they tarried on the shore. When I saw them next, still, methought, each face A shadow of sorrow wore ; But upon each, too, there was such a smile As earth in the spring puts on When the flow'rs appear and the birds the while Announce the drear winter gone. H Wa^ witb Ibomcr. Methought the stream of Time had backward rolled, And I was standing on the fruitful plain That lay between the sea and ancient Troy. I saw one standing on the curving beach, Whose hoary locks were playthings for the wind That fresh'ning came across the swelling waves. I listened to the mystic music of a voice That chanted to their measured beat, in tones Now whispering soft and low as rustling leaves, Now rolling with the boom of tumbling waves. Now clanging as the clash of brazen arms. He waved his magic hand. Aurora fair, Arising from her loved Tithonus' side, With rosy fingers deftly backward drew The crimson curtains of the ruddy dawn And ushered in the day. Afar appeared A mighty fleet, whose dark and curving prows Were cleaving fast the tossing waves, impelled By oars that lashed the sea to hoary foam. A DAY WITH HOMER. Or sails that forward bent their snowy breasts In eager haste to reach the sounding shore. 47 Again the minstrel waved his magic hand. Upori the yielding beach updrawn, the ships Lay propped. Unnumbered hosts upon the shore Were marshalled. Mighty kings with gleaming helm s Of nodding plume, and fourfold shields that shone As noonday suns, and tow'ring ashen spears With glitt'ring points of ruthless piercing bronze. To curving chariot yoked, the shapely steeds Whose ample manes, down-flowing, swept the ground, Impatient stood, swift-footed as the blast. Outstreaming from th^ Seaman gates of Troy There issued forth a host in like array. Then with a shout that shook the arched sky These hosts advancing, met upon the plain. Bows twanged and bitter arrows winged their way To gallant breasts, and dyed the ivory skin With purple stain. Huge glitt'ring spears, impelled By mighty arms, resounding rang on shields j Or, piercing, cleft both shield and glancing helm Of brass, and hurled the hero crashing down ' i ^ -i 'vf I A ■ r i. ,\ 48 A DAY WITH HOMER. Upon the earth, with loud-resounding arms, And spread a veil of darkness o'er his eyes. Fleet-footed steeds, with manes back-streaming, flew Across the plain with whirling chariot bright, Whose drivers urged them on with stinging lash To bear the crested warrior to the fray ; Or, prince and driver gone, the car o'erturned, With panting nostril, wild, distended eyes. They plunged in mad confusion through the host. '-. 'i- III!!'; He waved his hand. Afar across the sea I saw divine Olympus lifting high Its form sublime, and on a marble base Of snow upreared, with dome of blue above. The glorious palace of the heav'ply gods. They in their golden halls, with purple lip Were quaffing nectar sweet that Hebe fair Presented each in gleaming cups of gold. They sat upon their lofty shining thrones, And feasted on ambrosia rich, and heard The harp, whose golden strings Apollo swept Till breasts were thrilled and melted with the strains That spread like fragrance through the vaulted hall. A DAY WITH HOMER. 49 ^jpreme on shining throne, in splendor sat Majestic Jove, whose nod imperious shook Olympus to its base, but yet who feared The stinging taunts of jealous Juno's tongue. 1 )eceiving with her craft immortal Jove, But shrinking when his anger was aroused, Yet yielding not the jjurpose of her heart, On lofty couch of gold resplendent sat Imperial Juno, stately queen, of large And lustrous eye, and shapely snowy arm, And fragrant bosom dear to mighty Jove. Beside her sat Minerva, fair of brow. Alert to prompt with winged thought her queen ; And he of skilful hand but limping feet. Who wrought in gold the chambers of the gods. Arrayed in panoply of jangling brass. There, too, sat cruel-eyed, broad-shouldered Mars, Who wore the fiercest brow of all the gods. There sat the virgin queen whose buskined feet Are swift to chase at early dawn, across The breezy hills, the flying stag that falls By winged shaft shot from her sounding bow ; 4 i,i! I- it 50 A DAY WITH HOMER. And Venus, favored child of mighty Jove, With perfect moulded arm and breast of snow, Mirth-lighted eye and soft caressing hand ; — Love, fairest form that ever found a home On earth, or in the golden halls of heaven. Thus there were gathered all the immortal ones Who meet at Jove's command in heavenly hall. Although endowed with human hates and loves. Yet all were gods, and godlike seemed they all. Sublimity celestial clothed their brows And wrapped their forms in more than mortal grace. m He waved his hand. Obedient to the call. Then mighty Jove arose and swiftly yoked His brazen-footed, golden-manfed steeds To brazen chariot bright, and grasping fast The golden reins, came sweeping down The shining slopes of his Olympic home, And swifter than his lightning, shot athwart The sky, and sat, in gleaming gold arrayed. Upon the heights of Ida, many-rilled. IM' A DAY WITH HOMER. 51 I saw the heav'nly portals open wide. Upon a silver car with golden wheels Imperial Juno rode, and at her side Minerva, clad in panoply of war. The queen of heav'n with outstretched, radiant arms Held firm the shining reins, until her steeds With glitt'ring feet far-reaching, measured swift The airy space across the purple sky And bore her down upon the plains of Troy. Then Neptune, too, forsook the wooded height Of Sa'iios, and came swiftly striding down ; And ent'ring, neath the sea, his home Of gold and crystal, quickly yoked His tawny-manbd steeds. Across the deep to Troy He sped in glitt'ring car, whose whir'ing wheels (.'left through the parting waves a level way ; \^'hile round the car the creatures of his realm Careered, rejoicing at the presence of their king. Thus came the gods to mingle in the fray With men upon the plains of Troy. I saw Dread Diomedes wound with wanton spear The clinging arm that loving Venus drew 52 A DAY WITH HOMER. About her son to save him from his foe. I heard her piteous wail, and saw the drops That dyed the clasping arm with crimson stain. I saw him pierce, with brazen point, the side Of Mars, and heard the god when wild with pain He roared as loud as many thousand men. Again I saw the vengeful god, when mad He rushed against Minerva, azure-eyed. And smote her fringed cegis with his spear. But swift she hurled him crashing down. He covered acres wide. His streaming locks And brazen arms were all defiled in dust. I saw Achilles, unexcelled in strength, In manly beauty unsurpassed, by all The princely Greeks who fought on Trojan field. A king that by deliberate choice preferred A short but glorious career, to long And peaceful reign among his Myrmidons. A king whose every act was passion-swayed By love of fame or friend, or fierce revenge. His thoughts were not concealed with cunning craft, But swift escaped the barriers of his teeth. A DAY WITH HOMER. 53 When Agamemnon swore with angry threat To rob him of Briseis, fair-cheeked bride, I saw his mighty frame convulse with rage, His fingers clutch and half unsheathe his sword ; While taunts and bold reproaciies rained from lip That hotly hurled the hated insclt back. And when they led the unwilling maid away, I saw the tear that stained his rugged cheek As lone he sat upon the sobbing shore. And called his goddess mother from the deep, Unbosomed all the burden of his heart And prayed for vengeance from the heavenly gods. When Agamemnon sent imploring aid And vowed the maid uninjured to restore, I saw him spurn in proud disdain the bribe Of Lesbian maids, and steeds of tossing mane, And hand of princess rich, whose father deemed A wounded spirit could be cured by gold. When dearest friend had fallen in the fray, I saw him lowly bow his head, and heap The ashes on his comely locks, and lie li i i ; II 54 A DAY WITH HOMER. Prostrated on the shore, while sobs betrayed The grief that lay so heavy on his heart. I saw him don the greaves, the corselet bright. The helm of golden crest, the wondrous shield, That Vulcan wrought. I saw him grasp his spear Of Pelian ash, and mount his stately car. I saw the steed, caparisoned in gold. That bowed its graceful yellow-man^d neck And warned its master of his coming fate. I heard his loud exultant shout that sent A thrill of fear through all the Trojan host. I saw him raging wreak a fierce revenge For dear Patroclus' death. He reveled in his wrath. And slaughtered Trojan foes, till all the earth And all his beauteous arms were black with gore. He spared nor prince nor peasant in his path. Nor even spared the unarmed fugitive Who knelt and begged for mercy at his feet. There Hector, too, I saw, in gleaming arms, Alert and active in defence of Troy. A DAY WITH HOMER. He fought not for revenge or fame, but home And kindred, loving wife and infant child. I saw him pass the Scaean gates, when back Again he turned the fleeing hosts, then stride Away to Priam's palace high, to bid, In tones of reverence and filial love. His aged mother to the goddess pray. And offer garment rich with wondrous work, Lest dread destruction might upon them fall. 55 I saw him meet white-armed Andromache, His tall and graceful wife, the fairest dame Of all that wore the trailing Trojan robe. When weeping, clinging to his hand, she told How father, mother, brothers, all, were slain, And how she feared for him, her all in all ; I saw the hero bend his crested head And soothe with gentle hand his weeping wife. I heard his tender tones as low he spoke Of sacred Troy in ruins ; brothers brave And aged Priam trampled in its dust ; Of all the hidden pain that rent his heart When he remembered some harsh-minded Greek 56 A DAY WITH HOMER. m 1* Would lead away his tender bride, a slave, To weave the web with tears, and water bear, In Argos, for some haughty Grecian dame. But yet his heart must falter not nor fear. And he must do his task, as she her own. And patient wait the stern decrees of fate. And then he reached his hand to clasp his child ; But when it shrieked to see the nodding crest, He laid his glittering helmet down and took The fearful babe caressing to his arms. And, having prayed a blessing from the gods. Restored him to his mother's yearning breast As she stood smiling through her recent tears. A hero he that found 'mid din of arms A tender word for mother, wife and child. I saw him yoke to chariot of war His wind-swift steeds, and send the hostile Greeks In tumult flocking back across the plain. Then burst exultant through their vaunted walls And scatter flames among the updrawn prows. His glancing helm was ever first of all ; His form the foremost in the thickest fray. A DA Y WITH HOMER. hi Again I saw him as he stood alone Without the walls of Troy, when all had fled And left their brave defender to his fate, Resolved to face the dreaded foe and win, Or die a not inglorious death. He hurled His spear with mighty force and truec^t aim, But harmlessly it fell upon the shield That skilful Vulcan wrought in heaven's forge. Then, though he knew his fated hour was nigh, Undaunted still, he drew his gleaming blade And rushed upon his god-assisted foe. I saw Achilles pierce with ruthless spear His tender neck. I saw his princely form And proudly nodding plume prostrated low ; I saw the iron-hearted victor o'er His fate exult, deny his dying prayer. And strip his shoulders of their shining arms. Then thrusting through his feet the cruel thongs, He bound him to his brazen car, and trailed His noble head and streaming locks behind. I heard the wails of woe on Trojan walls, Saw aged Priam, in his deep despair, Lie groaning on the ground. I heard the shriek, 58 A DAY WITH HOMER. li i> The piteous cries and moans of Hecuba. I saw her cast her shining head-dress by And wildly rend her streaming silver hair, As she beheld her bravest son, her boast, The darling of her heart and lofty Troy, Thus dead and dragged in dark defiling dust. I saw Andromache among her maids, And they were weaving work of wondrous art ; But, thoughtful of her Hector's swift return, Had warmed a bath to soothe his wearied limbs. She heard the shriek of aged Hecuba, And fearing for her dearest, rushed away. Like one distracted, to the tower wall. She saw the sight. Then strength forsook her limbs. And sense her soul. Upon the earth she sank, And from her head the veil and fillet fell, Revealing all the glory of the brow And marble breast that gallant Hector loved. I saw the streaming tears of Trojan dames As low they bent about her shapely form. I saw her faintly rise and wring her hands, While sighs and sobs her swelling bosom shook. I heard her low and pitiful lament ; — A DAY WITH HOMER. 59 Her faithful husband fallen in his youth, Defence of her and all the Trojan dames ; The insult heaped upon the harmless head Of Hector's infant son, that oft had sat And richly fed, upon his father's knee ; The dying hand her fingers had not clasped ; The faltering lips that left no loving word To be remembered all her life with tears. Once more the minstrel waved his magic hand. The golden sun sank in the ocean down, And darkness slowly fell. The fruitful plain, The gods and heroes vanished from my sight. But still, across the centuries of years, I hear the mystic mus>:c of that voice, I see the glories of that wondrous scene. Hn Hutumn Bai?. The clouds in sombre garments were arrayed, And seemed as silent mourners bending low To watch the earth's last trace of beauty fade Before they robed it in its shroud of snow. The very winds were hushed, as if for fear They might bewail the dying earth ere dead ; But gloomy Night seemed ever hov'ring near. As if in haste the dark'ning pall to spread. The autumn glories knew the rider. Death, Among them canie by night on courser pale ; They saw his footprints, found his frozen breath At morn, beside the stream and o'er the vale. With cruel hand he smote the grove-clad hill And left the tender leaflets wounded sore ; Some clinging to their parents, bleeding still, Some fallen, dead and darkened with their gore. AN AUTUMN DAY. 61 And Nature's children prized their wealth no more When near the dread, unpitying courser drew ; The tiny vine exposed its ample store Of purple clusters openly to view ; The orchard with its hands low reaching down, Its golden hoardings offered free to all ; The forest tree unclasped from treasure brown The fingers wide and let it idly fall ; The richly mantled cedar and the pine Alone had skill his onset to withstand, And, sheltered at their feet, the nestling vine And fairy-broidered fern escaped his hand. Earth's lovely fiower-children all were dead. Or drooping low to life they feebly clung. Save where some new-born beauty reared its head. That Death had thought too fair to die so young. Though dimmed was earth's bright summer-robe of green, As to the grove I strayed that autumn day, Though deep'ning gloom pervaded all the scene, No weight of sadness on my bosom lay. i I I i G2 AN AUTUMN DAY. ■ i ,'\ I well remembered how had passed away Glad-hearted Spring and gentle Summer fair ; I knew that Death would soon beside them lay Loved, dreamy Autumn with her golden hair ; I knew that Winter's swift-advancing feet Would soon among earth's prostrate beauties tread ; His chilly hand would soon in winding sheet Enwrap alike the dying and the dead ; I knew earth would be drear with cold and gloom When these would all in sleep of death recline, Yet in my bosom sadness found no room, And on that day a cheerful heart was mine. A heart that whispered, " Winter passes too, Glad-hearted Spring will wake again and rise. Fair Summer come with all her charms anew. And dreamy Autumn with her hazel eyes ; Nor on earth's breast her children shall lie dead. But Spring shall come and kiss the damp of death From each cold brow, and raise the drooping head, And fill the lifeless lips with quick'ning breath. i I'll AN A UTUMN DA Y. 68 A heart that shall, I trust, through life be mine ; That shall, though Spring and Summer sink to rest, Though Autumn, too, to Winter shall resign. From every trace of sadness keep my breast. A heart that even when I sink at last My sleep upon the breast of earth to take, Shall say, "This winter, too, shall soon be past. And Spring eternal shall thy slumbers break." 1 ¥' I ■ XTbe Sculptors. We all are sculptors in this world of ours, There's not a hand but may some image form That, when the Master comes to view our task, Shall from his lip receive approval warm. 'J. : ■ f :=li^ The images are carved from rocks of gray, From marble stained with frequent dusky bands ; They, too, are carved from marble pure and white As Paro's breast when bared by Grecian hands. One from a faultless block of spotless snow Will shape a queenly form of perfect mould. That breathless seems to wait till Life shall place Within its hands her flick'ring lamp to hold. Another idly leaves the task undone. With here and there perchance a finishec' part That shows how beauteous might have been the fori Completed, had the hand but used its art. THE SCULPTORS. 65 Some, aimless, chip the precious block away ; Or strive to shape some phantom of the brain, Forever altering its fleeting form, Till only fragments of the l)lock remain. And some, with block of marble rough and stained, Will skilfully avoid the dusky bands ; And none would ever know that such had been, So fair an image issues from their hands. And some with but the gray and stubborn rock, Will, still undaunted, labor patiently Until rewards their persevering toil A stately form of perfect symmetry. And some, because they have but rock of gray, Or marble soiled with frequent dusky stain. And not a block as pure as winter snow. Will fling aside the chisel in disdain. While this one, blust'ring, toiled at some design, '!'he world approved and thought its praises just ; But. when it came to view the work complete, li lound some hideous form or naught but dust. 5 66 THE SCULPTORS. While that was patient bending o'er his task, The world had scoffed ; but, as again it turned When long the artist had been gone, it found A grandeur that it ne'er before discerned. And here^ one carved perchance a tiny fljw'r, Whereon the world ne'er deigned to bend its gaze But rarest beauty here the Master found. And here bestowed His warmest words of praise. We all are sculptors in this world of ours ; There's not a hand but may some image form, That, whcii the Master comes to view our task. Shall from His lip receive approval warm. If, when the Master comes. He find The block untouched, the form left incomplete. But dust and fragments or some hideous shape, Alas, how shall we then that Maste.- mee'. ? I XTbe Seven ages of XKIloman. A BABE, that nestles in its mother's arms And prattles e'er of fairy Babyland ; A tripping school-girl, bright with budding charms ; A maiden queen, that rules with loving hand ; A bride, with brow touched half by joy and fear ; A mother, 'mid her flock with cheek aglow ; A gray-haired dame, that sheds the ready tear O'er vanished scenes and friends of long ago ; A tott'ring form, that walks through Childhood lands. Sees not their beauties, thrills not with their mirth, That wearies on the way, and folds the hands And nestles in the mother arms of earth. Xlbe Ibuman 1beart» What sunny hope, what dark despair, What happiness, what gnawing care. What innocence, what sin. That treasure-house, That prison-house, The human heart, May hold within ! Ube lUoung /IDotber, " I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." While Spring the land with lavish hand Bedecked with leaf and blossom, She near me strayed, and gently laid A flow'ret in my bosom ; But Autumn came, with sword and flame The forest leaflet blasting, And bud and bloom without a tomb On Earth's cold bosom casting. THE YOUNG MOTHER. And oh, my flow'r, that happy hour To me in love had given, His cruel grasp, from clinging clasp And bleeding breast, had riven. The bird that flies to other skies When summer days are over, Will come when Spring abroad shall fling Her flag of fragrant clover ; The forest tree the blast may see Its robe in tatters rending, But robe as fair the tree shall wear When wintry days are ending; But bird may come and tree may bloom, As Spring shall bid them ever ; Alas, for me, my eye shall see My babe returning never. (iO if| ■ I TLbc (Ibtl&*s Call. I '.^ m *' Mother, in the lowly bed Where thy darling they have laid, Lone I aiTi, so lone. Though the blossoms at my head Never are allowed to fade. Daily by thy hand renewed, Fragrant-scented, brilliant-hued, Lone I am, so lone. *' Though around me as I sleep Grass is waving cool and deep. Lone I am, so lone. Night-winds whisper as they pass Lulling sounds among the grass. But, dear mother, still I long For thy soothing cradle song, — Lone I am, so lone. " Though the stars up in the sky Shine upon me where I lie, Lone I am, so lone. THE CHILD S CALL. Here I need thy presence still, For my chamber's dark and chill ; Come, dear mother, come and keep Close beside me while I sleep. Lone I am, so lone. " Dearest mother, here I miss Clasping arm and good-night kiss, Cold I am, so cold. Mother, here I cannot rest. Let me nestle in thy breast ; Mother, fold about my form Loving arms to keep me warm. Cold I am, so cold." Thus the mother heard her child Calling 'mid the tempest wild, — Calling as she toiled by day. Calling when she sleepless lay, — And the moon was shining bright In the silence of the night ; Even when she slept, the same Pleading voice in whispers came. Ever in that plaintive tone, " Mother, I am cold and lone." 71 : ! 72 THE CHILD'S CALL. i! :,x So the mother rose at last, To the restless sleeper passed, Softly down beside her lay, Never left her night or day. There together now they sleep In their narrow chamber deep ; There the baby lies at rest, Folded to the mother's breast. Ever on their lowly bed Sweetest blooms their fragrance shed ; Stars above them in the sky Shine upon them where they lie ; Night-winds whisper as they pass Lulling sounds among the grass. There no more, as calm they sleep, Aught shall mar their slumber deep. Nevermore the plaintive tone, " Mother, I am cold and lone." S As OFT we see some op'ning flow'er-gem, Though watched and tended, droop and fade away, Nor know the reason till the fallen stem Reveals the place where the destroyer lay ; So we saw every trace of bloom depart, We saw her slender frame was wasting fast, Nor knew the weight of sorrow at her heart That snapped in twain the thread of life at last. Pallid face so lily white, Wavy tresses, amber bright. Backward brushed from forehead pale ; Lying still with eyelids closed As if she in dreamland vale After weary toil reposed. Lips together closely pressed As if she in broken rest Fearful was she might impart Hidden secret of the heart. * EARLY BLIGHTED. Spreads with fairy fingers there Robes of purple-tinted leaves. Winter, fearing that his blast Might awake her sweeping past, For protection, o'er her throws Mantles of his drifting snows. Spring, with touch of fingers light, Lays aside the robes of white ; Bending o'er the naked mound. Smooths again the crumbling mould, O'er its bosom, cold and browned. Spreads her vernal mantle's fold, Scatters wildwood flowerets, Tiny vines and violets, Decks their buds with gems at even, Mirroring the lamps of heaven. Ube Silent Cttg. Beside the sea a silent city stands : In child-like glee the waters at its feet Heap up the pebbles with their busy hands, And half aloud some well-known song repeat. Some homes the marble richly carved display, And some the roughly hewn moss-covered stone, Some show but wood half-eaten by decay, And some are roofed with common turf alone. Near some, the fir with beck'ning hand is seen To lure to it each straying breath of air. And flowers lay aside their robes of green And to the breeze their fragrant breasts unbare. Near some, the knotty shrub and briar grow So close their tangled tresses interlace. And weeds so thick that none would ever know Here lies concealed a human dwelling-place. Its homes are silent. Not a whisper breaks The lasting spell of quietness profound ; 78 THE SILENT CITY, Nor Music e'er the hand of Dancing takes To lead her swiftly through the mazy round. The prattling of the infant's lisping tongue, The maiden's voice as sweet as tinkling rill, The strong and manly accents of the young. The trembling voices of the old, are still. They all are homes of rest. From street to street No sound of busy toil, no hurried tread ; To chase the phantom. Wealth, no restless feet. No hands to struggle wildly but for bread. No troubled dreams to mar their slumber deep, No fevered cheeks, no limbs that toss in pain. No weary eyes that close but find no sleep. No grief-swept breast, no burning madd'ning brain. The tott'ring aged, wearied from their day Of toil, here come and lay them down to rest ; Here come the rosy children from their play. And sinks to quiet slumber every breast. Here come the gay, the sad, the child of health. The sick one racked with more than mortal throes, The noble, base, the pampered son of wealth. The tattered wretch, — and all find sweet repose. THE SILENT CITY 79 Theirs is oblivious rest. The silent bride With smiles the coming bridegroom never greets ; The child down-nestling at its mother's side No clasping arm, nor word of welcome meets. They never mark the beauty's flowing tress, Her lustrous eye, the bloom upon her cheek ; The lips of him that loved her never press In fondness hers, nor of her praises speak. Here friend by friend will come to seek repose, And never recognize the loved one near ; Here, side by side, lie down the bitterest foes, Forgetful of their former rage and fear. All, wearied in their search, in endless train, From lisping babe to sire with hoary head, Come here to seek for rest, nor seek in vaii., — This is a silent City of the Dead. i ? H Dream at JEventl^c. Now lonely at coming of ev'ning I stray To grove, and on flowers reclining, I watch the sun's golden-illumining ray On argent-bright vapor clouds shining I They seem, as they float in the opaline air, Like islands in purple seas lying, Bright Isles of the Blest, all radiant and fair. With beauty and verdure ne'er dying. The purple hue on the horizon" now fades, The tints from cloud-islands effacing ; And all the dusk air of the even invades, The earth in soft lustre embracing. Then noiselessly through the blue regions on high Invisible angel ones glancing, Rekindle the scintillant lamps of the sky, Resplendent with glory entrancing. A DREAM AT EVENTIDE. 81 high Their treiviuious rays of innocuous Hght They cast in an earthly direction, And find in the crystalline dews of the night A brilliant and changing reflection. And with the coo! breezes that blow through these bow'rs Of beauty and fragrance, is blending The odorous incense of radiant flow'rs From numberless censers ascending. Before me in shrouded and shadow-forms, fast The friends of my lifetime are thronging ; Some loved ones recalled from the far-distant past, And some to the present belonging. Apart from the other loved ones, there appears In columned and flower-twined portal, An angel-like form of the n'?'cr-i?rgot years, Enrobed in a beauty immcrtal. Her brow, finely moulded, vines waving reveal, Encrowned by her dark-flowing tresses. And buds lily-white strive its beauty to steal By gentle incessant caresses. 6 1! 82 A DREAM AT EVENTIDE. The roses, forgetting their own lovely hue, Extending from pendulous cluster, Endeavor by touching her cheek to imbue Their leaves with its delicate lustre. But when to my bosom her form I enclasp, Her features grow white as the lily, And lifeless and cold turns the hand that I grasp. Her fingers grow rigid and chilly ; The form is enwrapt in a shadowy shroud, The hands on the bosom are folded, And formless and indistinct vapors encloud The features that Beauty had moulded. I start from my rest on the flowerets fair. With night-dews of crystal now laden, But fancy I see in the shade-mingled air The eyes of the vanishing maiden. My grief-burdened heart is warmed with delight By feeling that she in a vision Thus often returns from her dwelling-place l)right In e'er-blooming valleys elysian. 3n palliation. When ev'ning's filmy curtain slow descends, And Silence comes his lonely watch to keep ; When queenly Night, star jewelled, lowly bends' To guard the earth enwrapped in dewy sleep ; While for a time my eyes forget to close, And gaze entranced upon these beauties rare, A figure sudaenly its presence shows. And lends a charm to every beauty there. When Slumber slowly droi)s his opiate veils, S/ie seems to close my eyes with ling'ring hand, E'en when I stray in Dreamland's misty dales. Near every grove or fount I see /ler stand. But chide me not because this form appears To leave an impress more endeared than all That cluster round my heart from other years. That mem'ry never wearies to recall ; 84 IN PALLIATION. For has not Beauty lent her charms divine — And lacks she any needed art to please ? Is not her motion as of pendent vine That dallies with the wanton ev'ning breeze ? Is not her brow in purer light arrayed Than that which bathes the brow of marble saint, When morning beams have through the chancel strayed With sunny hand the columned aisles to paint ? And has not Fancy whispered that her eyes The pureness of the light within bespeak ; That autumn leaves have lent their varied dyes To tint the color on her lip and cheek ? And if that friend seemed so enchanting then That still her form seems ever near to mine ; If mem'ry loves to bring that form again, Pray do not chide me, for the form is — thine. ^be Star. While walking in half-lighted shadow That wrapped me in days long ago. There shone on my path for a moment A star of a wonderful glow A glow that was strangely entrancing, A glow so peculiarly bright My soul seemed to start in my bosom To bask in the crystalline light ; A star that, though plainly of heaven, Seemed nearer and nearer to shine So near that it seemed I might clasp it And claim it forever as mine. It shone but a moment and vanished ; I watched with unwearying eyes Till over my path, full of splendor, That star once again should arise. It came in its lustre unfaded; I followed wherever it led ; The mystical valleys of Dreamland I trod by the light that it shed. I 86 7//ii STAR. But sudden a cloud rose, obscuring And hiding its soul-cheering hght, And left me unguided, bewildered, In deep cypress shadows of night. The cloud raised its towers of darkness, And higher its ramparts upreared ; Methought that behind it forever In gloom had my star disappeared. I thought it had left me to wander The valley deep-shadowed and lone, With naught but the dim light of mem'ry To guide through the windings unknown. The clouds passed away, and I noticed A tremulous beaming afar ; My bosom half trustingly whispered, " Perchance 'tis a ray from thy star." I gazed, half believing the whisper, Till fled all my doublings away; For nearer the star seemed approaching, And clearer and brighter its ray. Tt seemed with such love-breathing radiance So near and so warmly to shine, It waked my sad soul from its slumber, And warmed this cold bosom of mine. An. THE STAR. Oh ! say what mysterious power, What spell o'er my soul has this star ? What links with invisible fetters My soul to that being afar ? When darkened, my breast is a prison In which my soul wretchedly pines ; My soul finds that bosom a palace When brightly and warmly it shines. I know, when upon me no longer That love- breathing look shall descend, This dream we call T.ife shall be over, My day upon earth be at end. 87 ince lEncouraQement. Skies had doffed the gold of morning And their sable garments worn, Burdens light had chafed my shoulders, Little thorns my feet had torn. Wearied, down beside the pathway Fretfully myself I flung, Thinking life's way rough and toilsome, E'er with darkness overhung. Suddenly came Mem'ry, tripping As a bright-lipped, fair-browed maid ; Smiling, down she knelt beside me And in mine her hand she laid. " Is the sky e^er dark ? " she whispered, " All the way so rough and drear ? Come and backward let us ramble. Leave awhile your burdens here." Ei\CO URA GEMENT. Hand in hand we rambled backward Till we reached a deep ravine ; On its sides the trees were standing In their gayest robes of green. Through its depths a stream came trip})ing Swift along its winding banks, Leaping over rocks and dancing, Laughing at its idle pranks. O'er it trees their hands extended. From the sun its breast to screen, But the sun their wide-spread fingers Shot his golden shafts between. Mem'ry whispered to me, "Surely, Surely here your feet have strayed ; Here you stood and watched the streamlet As among the rocks it played ; *' Here you climbed the rugged pathway Leading to the ruined mill ; Here you bent and saw the mighty Wheel with giant arms, was still ; 80 00 ENCO URA CEMENT. " Here between two rugj^ed boulders Hastily a seat you made, Where you sat and gazed enraptured On the silver-tongL'.ed cascade. ,?'! " Surely now you cannot tell me Ail the way is rough and drear, E^er the sky is wrapped in darkness — Were they so when you were here?" And then smiling Mem'ry, turning, Whispered as a zephyr low, Lest the list'ning trees around us Might from her the secret know. " It is she who wandered with you On that eve to this ravine ; She whose eyes with yours so fondly Rested on the treasured scene ; " She who with you watched the streamlet, With you at the ruin bent. With you sat upon the boulders. That to all the charm has lent." A liOX OF FLOWERS. Then we slow retraced our footsteps, But the sun in beauty shone ; All the way seemed smooth before nie, And I found my burdens gone. 91 Qw IReceiPiiiG a Xon0*ipromfsc& JBor ot jflowers. This box of newly bursting blooms For long delay will make amends, Their fragrance sweet that all perfumes Is like the heart of her that sends. These verdant vines, that tendrils fling And clasp the tinted blooms around. Are like her heart, that close will cling Where aught that's pure and fair is found. And every tint that lightly warms Or flushes golden cup with flame, Is emblem of a heart that charms And sheds a brightness just the same. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 |45 m ^ i- IIIIIM IM llli^ 2.0 lU^ 1 1.8 1.4 III 1.6 V] ff /a o ^, / //a Photographic Sciences Corporation ,\ « ^ k V ^ \\ ,*^"*< (A' ^ ■^\> a^ 1.^ 23 WEST MAW' STREST WEI^STER.N.Y. 14S80 ,716) 872-4303 Z'^ s 5 J^? I t<>/ Ua ^ \ ^ ^^ ^ ^ mmm (Siuestiou anb Hnswer, You ask if I, when youth has turned to age, Can love you still though youthful bloom be gone ; If I, when morn is past and ev'ning near, Can love the dark'ning ev'ning as the dawn ; If I shall ruthless spurn the drooping stem When buds of spring and summer flowers rare And autumn's golden fruits have been and gone, And winter finds it beauty- robbed and bare. M The sailor may his new-built vessel prize When first she launches on the waters blue, Unfurls her spotless canvas to the breeze, And cleaves a foamy path the billows through ; But he will prize that gallant vessel more, Although her sails be rent and weather-stained. When she has proudly braved the tempest's rage And safely has the destined harbor gained. I" 93 QUESTION AND ANSWER. I shall not ruthless spurn the drooping stem U op'ning bud shall bring the promised flow'r, If opened flow'r to promised fruit shall turn, Though naked found in winter's chilly hour. But if those buds remain forever closed ; If fruit and flower never spring from them, But jagged thorns and withered leaves instead. Who would not spurn the naked, worthless stem ? If ev'ning have the morning's balmy airs, Though golden tints may not the skies adorn, If stinging blasts do not my bosom pierce, I then shall love the ev'ning as the morn. I'll love you still though lustrous eye may dim, Though cheek may pale and burning lip grow cold. If trusting heart remain— for who would scorn A gem because the casket had grown old ? Your outward graces are not what I prize, But yet I do not deem them valueless, For does not Nature teach us lovely forms Are far more lovely in becoming dress ? i 94 IN THE SUNNY LAND OF YOUTH. Cheek beauty fades ; heart beauty never can. Heart beauty has its mirror in the face ; And so we ever fondly hope to find The inner when we have the outer grace. But if, when age shall blanch your cheek and lip, And steal the youthful lustre from your eyes, There shall be found no warm and loving heart. What will remain that I can love or prize ? 3n tbe Swwxvq XanO of HJoutb. In the sunny land of Youth Gather gems thy form to grace While their path through Womanhood Thy advancing feet must trace — Purity, thy brow to light ; Modesty, to grace thy neck ; Truth, to sparkle on thy breast ; Charity, thy hand to deck. Cheek may pale and eye grow dim, Burning lip of youth grow cold, But these gems will keep thee fair Though by years thou mayst be old. a jfraotle Dase is in l!)our Iban^ A FRAGILE vase is in your hand, Weeds on your path with flowers grow, And you must gather as you pass To fill this spotless vase of s Then pluck not vile offensive weeds, But choose the fragrant buds and rare ; No faded flow'r or lurking weed Should mar the clusters gathered there. For they're to deck the home of One That waits the coming cf your feet, And will, if all be fresh and fair. With loving smile your coming greet. ii << 1 Ott Mben mcav^ are ©ur jfeet. Oft when weary are our feet Flowers by the way appear, Buds and bloom with perfume sweet Laden, weary hearts to cheer. Friends have I on life's way met, Sent like these to cheer the heart — Flowers by the wayside set — Mary, such a one thou art. XTrue 3frtent)sbip Is a 6olt)en Cbatn. True friendship is a golden chain That links the faithful heu' ted, And life is only sweet when yet The linklets have not parted. We leave the world with scarce a sigh, And ne'er u murmur spoken, When every link is snapped in twain, Or all the dearest broken. /IBas %itc for ITbee be ®iie Continual Sono. May life for thee be one continual song That in the morning shall recall thy feet From Dreamland's never-ending paths, where throng The loved and ne'er-forgot thy steps to meet. A cheery song, that in the noontide's glare Shall free thy breast from every throb of pain, Hush in thy breast, at eve, the voice of care, And aM the night breathe out its sweet refrain— A song with constant strains that, soft'ning, tell If e'er the kindly ray has been withdrawn ; Not such as fitfully exulting swell From organ lips a moment, and are gone. May all thy life be as a limpid stream- Now in the meadow's richest sunlight dressed ; Now gliding 'neath the boughs where noontide's beam Yet scatters golden network o'er its breast. A stream that will, if nearing chilly glen, But hush its song where ebon Shadow spreads 98 A WISH. li H His gloomy wing, then gaily sing again When all is sunshine o'er its pebbly beds. A stream which ripples calmly to the sea, And, ent'ring, still keeps an unruffled breast, Then onward glides, from every tossing free, To golden sands and isles of perfect rest. H Misb. liiii '1" i' 1^: *^ V ■ ■§.'' ''i ill; H^yi i' : (i ■ 1 i^ ,m jkjmf i: iNf jB^B r iin Ill May fairy hands for thee thy path prepare Where all life's darker shadows never rest, Clear streams repeat a sweetly murmured air To rocking buds yet cradled on their breast, June's blossomed roses breathe their lives away To airs that wanton with their tiny lips, The morning ne'er withdraw its cheery ray Or fairest scene enshroud in dark eclipse. Delight unfading may the present bring. An amaranthine lustre robe the past, The future yield the promised joys of spring. And calm eternal rest be thine at last. JfncnDsbip. Heart linked to heart by friendship's chain, Both every sho-k receiving, No piercing shaft the one can pain Without the other grieving. The joy that lightens one will fill The other too with gladness ; So linked that both with joy must thrill, Or both must bleed in sadness. A chain that use wears not away, But more enduring makes it ; A chain so strong that none can say That even death quite breaks it. And yet, the linklets of this chain A hasty word may sever ; And they, if parted once, again Are rarely joined, if ever. 1 li' ll* •! i ry ]£acb iplower to Ibearen XDipturus its lEi^c. Each flow'r to heaven upturns its eye And constant gazing stands ; The tiny vines that lowly lie Yet heav'nward lift their hands. Their fragrant souls in death arise And float to heaven too ; O can they know of fairer skies Beyond the dome of blue ? And are they dumbly pointing man The way to realms of bliss, And showing where pure spirits can Find fairer worlds than this ? li. :% f ■■■ •' ji!-' -y