iMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) C?. ^< {■/ e ^ ^r :/. Hf5 1.0 I.I Ilia iiM IIIM |||||Z2 «-^ 12.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 <. 6" — ► ^ ccffaiicoii^ ^Jocm^ AND Vjn ^^c<^iiai4^iJQii^ iJo-e-H/i^^^ ■•';\^l/.\v-j I '■,)i\ BY of^a ^ t4^ §lt a I o 1 1 SAINT JOHN, N. M. J. &. A. McMillan, 98 Prince William Street. 1884. 2132 NOTE. It is n-.y intent ion to devote one half of my proceeds of the sale of this work to the service of the Ihor of Fredericton, N. B. [•'.ntercfl arcnrdiny; to the Act of Parliament of Canada, in the Year 1884, 15y BARk\ STRA^JON, In the Oflice of the Minister of Agricniture. \/ fcitj^ of cue. 'iD- CONTENTS. Page. To Erato, ----- 3 F2adgyth Svvanneshals, - - 5 Love's Argosy, - - - - - - - - - - H Song: " Letty," .--..--.. 15 The Plea of Love, 16 Rex Cupido, - - - - - 18 The Bloom on a Maiden's Cheek. -23 Love's Harvest. --------- 25 Mabel, ----- 26 Love's Contrast, - - . . ^i The Silent Song, --------- 32 Sea Graves, - " " " - 33 " My Lady vSleeps," 34 Lost Memories, - . - - 36 What Matters It ? ... - -38 Love's Proposal, ,. . . - 3^ Love's Attainment, 40 The Last Dream, 43 Extracts from "Magdalene," an unlinished Poem, - - - 44 9tt i ^cc Haw ^o tii^ %oc h i^3 . i_ CONTENTS. Page. Amaranthus, 53 Moonbeams, 54 Hafiz and the Persian King, - 59 Canute and the Waves, 60 The Brooklet's Lament, - 62 Sonnet: "America," - - ^ ------ 67 Song : '^ The Wild Lee Shore," ------ 68 At Christmas Time, - - - - 69 Evening on the Marshes, ----... yj Sunrise on the Ocean, - 73 Sunset on the Ocean, 76 Ciiarity, - - - - - 78 ^ <.D" P '^f I an> o OUC'^ / TO ERATO. Erato! Rare Frato ! From whose soul all love-songs flow — On whose brows the bands of laurel greener grow as years depart — On whose lips the low sighs linger — Let thy h^re enwreath my lyre, breathe thy fire upon my heart I Erato ! Rare Erato I But one blushing rose bestow From the scented chaplet circling thy fair head in majesty, In all willing heart-soil fertile I would plant the gift you grant me, and all hate should lift and flee ! Erato ! Rare Erato ! Wiser shall tiie nations grow If they hear thy voice which soothes us, making fiercest passion tame ; Theirs shall be the higher 'rem|)le, W'itii no golden portal holden by immortal sword of Hame ! m C3) EADGYTH SWANNESHALS, Rich type of woman, meek and Eve-like pure — Pure in the struggling light of thy dim day — Swan-necked well named, more graceful than the swan Which views in English lakes its arching self, Some whispered word wafts through the rustling years And bids my willing hand a tribute write, Thy tears for Harold heralding thy truth. Of Harold and the iron times when he, A man of iron, graced the Saxon throne, Shaping, so destined, England's destiny, I sing not here. Truth-loving Clio craves Those themes historic. Erato for me Now, myrtle-crowned, shall sweep her sighing lyre And sing the loves of Edith and her lord. Long day at Senlac raged the storm of war. Hearts taught to hate swelled high to hear the shout, The batde's license. Surging like the sea The armies struggled. Swirled the bloody blades, And ringing armor and opposing brands Blared martial music to the God of War. ^ ^ _ (5) Eadgyth Sivanneshals. I \ i No whistling', unseen ball, long-fiighted, smote. 'Twas harder than to vanquish. He that bore The full magnificence of manhood's skill Might hold his life uninjured through the throng That blundered fiercely with their blunt-edged blades. Thus Harold walked, long day impregnable, The paths of death. Before his hissing sword Fell victims headlong; yet the Saxon Serfs, Full jealous <:>{ the life which ruled their own, Walled thickly 'bout their Sovereign, and the fierce And rounded rush of battle centered where His blazing banner pivoted the fight. The day was slowly labouring to the west With horrors pregnant, and the Saxon King- Awaited, hopeful still, the shades of night, Whenas the coward arrow from afar, Down-glancing swiftly, pierced his kingly eye — So small a shaft yet shattered England's throne ! There, recreant to his guard, defenceless reeled The hope of England. Then four Norman Knights, Like coward were- wolves herded, rushed amain With swords uplifted hewing out his life. Then set the Saxon sun, and down the west The sun of daylight shuddered from the scene. im; Eadgyth Swanneshals . Next morn two Monks of Waltham, tiiey who owed Their Order to the King's benevolence. Sought for their martyred founder - fruitless quest. Then one who in his wild and worldly youth Had, haply, wooed some willing maid and found That love may know what friendship reckons not, Thus softly to his comrade : " Loved he not The fair and gende Edith. .Swan-neck called ? And, Brother, think you not that she might see. Among this mass of heads and limbs, some trace By which to claim her lover? ' . , " True. 'Tis well. And yet, to bring the gentle Edith here I scarce would venture. Thinkest thou that she Could walk in reason through this ghastly field ? " "The wave of love will buoy the lily up, And this resource is keystone to our hopes." Then turned they from the field and came to where In silence Edith wept. She scarcely ho{)ed i,, _l That Harold lived, nor knew the while, for truth, 8 Eadgyth Swanneshals, I :l If he were slain. While trembling stood the Monks, Afraid to fright fair Edith, thus she spoke: "What fearful horror hold ye that ye blanch Like winter's snow, and tremble like the leaf At breath of autumn ? Harold slain? I know — I read it in your halting ! And ye thought It were a kindness to withhold the truth ? Ye knew he loved me — Monks are always kind ! O Harold, Harold, ever lost to me ! To me ? — What say I ? — Yes, my King is dead, And I of England mourn for England's King. And have ye found my Monarch ? I would pay Last loyal homage to my royal lord." " Nay, Daughter, we have searched, but are at fault. The Norman wolves who slew him, strove, 'tis said, To rival wolves of weald. There many lie So mangled that their friends may know them not. Unknown among the many Harold sleeps. And, Daughter, we " *' Cease, Father, I will go ! My lord was pleased to please himself with me, And who like I should know my royal lord?" Eadgyth Swanneshals. Then gathering up her hair, that round her head It glowed a living coronet of grace, Fair Edith rose. The field of death was reached, And Edith searched, — an Angel treading Hell! Here rolled a head, complaining, from the light, Its loose jaws jibbering a fearful dirge. Its sighdess eyes fixed steadfastly on death, Its cold, mute lips, which nevermore might meet Lips welling o'er with love, filled with a sigh, Lent by the pitying wind. Here lay an arm — All might and muscle, true an English arm — Grasping, relentless still, the smiting sword. The brand of Empire. Shortly o'er such scene There rang a sobbing cry, a piteous plaint, And Edith fell where slaughtered Harold lay. The Swan had found her mate ! She breathed his name. And circling with her fair and shapely arms That mangled corpse incarnadined with blood,, Made moan which moved the Monks to screen their eyes. Yet, not aloud her troubles smote the air. She laid her cheek to Harold's, as a child Might greet its mother, and one shapely hand Went wandering through his wealth of waving hair, Whereat her eyes made wonder that her touch • / : ; lO Eadgyth Sivanneshals. Had lost its spell to thrill him. While she gazed, Scarce yet familiar with the face of death, Some Normans, searching out their slaughtered friends The which I wiss were many — passed that way, And one, unused to whisper, blurted out, "Tis Swan-neck, Harold's mistress. Well for her That Harold dies, if with him dies her sin." Then she, with blue eyes raised to meet his face, With eyes that smote in their soft wonderment, And low. hushe 1 voice, as if the silence spoke, " A sin ! Who speaks of sin ? Is love a sin ? And is it sinful I should love my lord ? And was it sin when hot from war's alarms He on my breast would rest his weary head And in my arms Hnd peace ? What sin had I When from his brow I banished war's black clouds And soothed him with the wealth of woman's love ? Oh, Father, he did love me ! He would lie Full many an hour at gaze upon mv face While from the harp my willing hands would woo Soft melodies which promi)t the soul to love. And then our eyes would speak, the harp grow dumb, And he would whisper of his happy love. Eadgyth Swanneshals. 1 1 Is that sin, Father ? Sin I Then woe the world ! Fiarold, hear, they say our love was sin ! Oh, if those arms could f'^ld r^e once agc^n — Strong arms whicli oft you said could zone your kingdom ! — Oh, if those lips once more could whisper love, 1 would not deem it sin. Is loving sin ? O Father, speak ! Oh, say we did not sin ! And yet — woe's me — with Harold dead I feel All hope, all love, all life is dead indeed. Before I loved my lord I loved the world, And all of nature grew and throbbed and sung Within my being, and all life was sweet. Twas sweet to roam the glades and mock the birds, And learn the lisping of the babbling brooks, And read the whispers of the waving woods. But when I loved my lord these ceased to please, And often when I lingered for his coming A nameless fear sprang up within my heart, And brooks and woods and birds would mock at me. O Feather, why was that ? Can love be sin ? ^ But when my Harold came and clasped me close, And whispered warmly of his happy love, The birds within my heart would chirp and sing tj Eadoyth Swa7ineshals. And crown me Queen of all the happy glades. Dost think the birds will ever sing again ? Those in the wood shall sing — but in my heart — What wiles shall ever woo my soul to song ? " She, sobbing, ceased. Then unto her a Monk, Grey-haired and bent beneath a weary weight Of scourging years, compassionate, thus spoke : •'What moves my heart to pity most for thee, Poor child, is thus to see thee left alone. Thy hero slain. The dove without her mate Fares sadly, droops, and cares not for the spring. Thy gentle heart shall miss the stalwart form. The dames that fawned full lowly at thy feet May scoff thee now and greet thee with a sneer. Thy marble brow will breed deep lines of care. And many a tear will dim those brilliant eyes To weep unused. Nor dme nor place is this For me to chide or sternly sift thy life. The fault repented passes from the Book And leaves the page full brighter than before. The foe shall bear dead Harold from the field. But, deathless, Harold in all English hearts Shall sainted live until the end of dme. Eadgyth Sxu amies hah. 13 The dew falls heavily, the night winds moan, And thou hast yet no portion with the dead, So homeward turn thee, and the gende Christ Absolve thee from thy faults and grant thee peace." This was thy power, fair Edith: thou didst wind Around our strong young King the silken chain, And held his heart, imprisoned in a curl, Close captive to the liberties of love! Is not man weak when woman wills a way ! This was thy beauty, Edith: thy bright glance, Like sunbeams on a brooklet, shimmered down Into the liquid soul of mobile man And kissed to bloom the lilies white of love! Sweet through the darkening amplitude of years, With love's full roses fragrant — sad withal — Thy tale is wafted. Eight long centuries Have dragged them on since thou wert beautiful, But we, with broken laws and covenants. Can from no Sinai of higher lives Cast back rebuke, nor blame that clouded dawn. H Loves Argosy. LOVE'S ARGOSY. vShp: softly sails the singinj^ sea, My maiden laden low with love. For her may all winds kindly prove, And waft her precious freight to me. Pacific isles be hers to reach ! O mermaids, let the Sea Gods know, And bid the spicy breezes blow And bear her to my calling beach ! The limpid wavelets lisp her name ; The stones cry out, and she must come ; The booming breakers burst in foam, And. dying, sing her perfect fame. O pure white sails of chastity ! O graceful masts of deeds of good I O burnished prow of maidenhood ! O golden helm of charity ! () argosy of saindy life, Veer softly to m\' star of love. Safe to the ha])py anchorage mo\'e Of perfect womanhood and wife. Letty. ^5 LETTY. Far away from crowded city, Where the winds blow sweet and free, Lives my country lassie pretty, Lives lone Letty on the lea. She no color knows but blushes Brought by kissing winds that rove : That is why I love lone Letty, With her laughing looks of love ! Ne'er a careless idle whisper Mars her lips, to truth resigned. Ne'er a thought to harm a creature Dwells within her gracious mind. Her voice is like the gentle cooing Of the Wooing springtime dove : That is why I love lone Letty, With her laughing looks of love ! But my heart is filled with sorrow, For a love 1 must conceal Which no promising to-morrow (iives me license to reveal. As the secret of my sorrow Would her soul to sadness move, I'll not tell I love lone Letty, ,' With her laughing looks of love ! ■ : ' : T i6 The Plea of Love. THE PLEA OF L O VE. II i i Meek maiden of the dreamful eyes — Like moonbeams mirrored in the mist ;. With cheeks like roses fairy-kissed, And little zephyr-stcrms of sighs — My Tieart in hunger frames its plea, And if I think not all astray, The gentle thought thy breast can sway Thy love can sometime Hit to me. True love of love alone can think, And to itself shall hostage be, Unbounded by eternity, Unbroke save in this mortal link. What care we if our bodies age, Or if we lack much earthly truth? Our si)irits hokl unaging youth : In lore of love our hearts are saj.,e. Thou, last and best of Eden's bloom, Canst bring Edenic biiss to earth. Oh, fill my life with nobler worth ! Let thy bright love my soul illume! The Plea of Love. 17 And all our life shall be again That ancient Eden, ever new ; Vou Eve, I Adam, primals to The long descent of striving men. And we, when wed in higher spheres In spiritual love and utter truth, Shall see the saplings of our youth Spread, like the banyan, through all years. And in the change Fortuna rings On years of war and years of rest, This beauteous, inviolate breast May, mother glorious lines of kings. The while she hearkens, in her face The love-tide Hows with rosy glow ; The love-dde ebbs — the pure, white snow Is like her in its desert place. I seal my i)lea with haj^py kiss On lips that are not turned away ; And she, when reigns the merry May, vVill set her gracious hand to this. i8 Rex Cicpido. REX CUPID O. I. In praise of thee, Ah me! Ah me! The httle leaping brooks cry out, The silent, sombre mountains shout, Ah me ! Ah me ! in praise of thee ! In praise of thee, Ah me ! Ah me ! The trumpet winds do ^vildly call, And roars the loud-voiced waterfall, Ah ne! Ah me! in praise of thee! In praise of thee, Ah me! Ah me! All songsters sing on willing wing Till earth and air enchanted ring, Ah me! Ah me! in praise of thee! II. To-day my garden held a grace Which all earth's blossoms cannot lend. She o'er the lilies white did bend, And plucked a red rose from its place. - I m i Rex Cupido. 19 That rose — sweet emblem of my love — May nestle warmly on thy breast, As sweetly might the lily rest, Nor any fairer, purer prove. My rose is thine by royal right ; The lily thine by spotless mind. My \o\^ — thy truth — shall reign combined, And sing thee pleasure day and night. III. I saw her raise her blind this morn Clad on with all her native grace. The senseless sunbeams sought her face Rut could her face no more adorn. The senseless sunbeams slanted down Behind her fragrant robe of night, And nestling on her bosom white, Knew not enough to sigh or frown. Seek, senseless sunbeams, seek her soul ! Oh ! warm her heart to love for me. Whisper of woman's destiny Till truth and love shall win the goal. --- - -^ t ' 20 J\ex Cupid 0. 11 My lady bade me sing of love, But Oil ! what could 1 sing ! A mockery it could but prove To sing of Love, the King, Unless our happy love were crowned, And sweetly in our lives enthroned. My lady bade me sing of love, But Oh! no song had I Save sighs that might her pity move, And love-lore of the eye. If e'er for us the joy-bells ring, Then, love, of Love to thee I'll sing! IV. My lady thinks it sweet to kiss And wonders that it should be so. She dreams not youth bestows the glow ; She recks not love bestows the bliss. Her large blue eyes in wonder gaze When I, all love-lorn, seek her face, And dwell upon each breathing grace, And watch her living marble ways. ( )h ! I shall woo her love to lite With pleading eyes, with arms that twine, And joyous kisses, till on mine Mcr heart shall blush with rapture rife. Rex Cttpido. 21 Love shall know thee wlien he conies, Search thy secret sighings out. Loud shall ring his joyous shout, Trill his bugles, beat his drums. Love shall scale the mountain high, Sweep the vale and dare the sea. Swiftly shall he come to thee. Softly of his passion sigh. Love shall win thee when he comes, He shall humble all thy pride, Claim thee for his blushing bride, Flare his trumpets, roll his drujus. V. I hang her picture on the wall. ■ Her cold, sweet beauty warms the room ; Her radiant face obscures the gloom, And holds my soul in happy thrall. Mv soul converses with her eyes And questions of their speechless prayer, And all the silence seems to bear The music of her low replies. 1 kiss her picture. Foolish me! Her lips are cold, a fruitless kiss; And yet it warms my soul to this — To will her love, and it shall be. mmm 22 i Rex Cupido. VI. To-day the marriage bells shall ring, And love shall fill the glowing hours, And joy shall bring its fairest flowers To crown our love, for Love is King ! Columbus-like, my lady stands Before the world of love all new, But I shall be her pilot true And she shall rule its happy lands. I seek her eyes and read her gaze, A happy trust is all I see ; And she shall read the mystery Of love's most potent, happy ways. * " I! The Bloom on a Maiden s Cheek. -J THE BLOOM ON A MAIDENS CHEEK. Sweet hours I vvhiled with a maiden meek, When the golden sun sought the crimson west, Where the hHes rest on the mirroring stream, And blushing to see their beanty, seem Like the bloom on a maiden's cheek. The whip-poor-will sang to the laughing creek, The butterfly hid in her nest lor the night. As the golden light through the tree-tops rushed. And kissed the stream dll its wavelets flushed Like the bloom on a maiden's cheek. The red moon rose o'er the purple peak, And chasing the sun from the western sky, Sent her bright rays high to the stars' abode, And bathed the clouds till their edges glowed Like the bloom on a maiden's cheek, _„.* •¥ •SssiBemmmmmm 24 T/ie B/oon? on a Maidens Cheek. I sought the dell in the autumn bleak. The cold, dark clouds threw a gloom on the day, The warblers gay from their nests had flown, The sweet red rose from the bank had gone Like the bloom from the maiden's cheek. The n.>rth wind blew with a dismal shriek, The brown cones fell from the boughs overhead, The lily lay dead in the breast of the stream, From the brooklet's wave had passed the gleam Like the bloom from the maiden's cheek. Ah ! never again in merry freak Shall we roam at eve in the golden light. All the blossoms bright are below the snow, From the western sky has passed the glow And the bloom from the maiden's cheek. ...... Loves Harvest. 25 LOVE'S HARVEST. The furrows of life Time is plowing, But we mourn not the Spring which departs, For the husbandman Fate, in his sowing, Scattered love in the soil of our hearts. The sunshine of virtue and beautv Shall wake the sweet seedlings to bloom. The warm dews of mercy and duty • Shall moisten the tractable loam. Oh, blow, grains of love to the binding ! Oh, blush, golden fruit on the hill ! 'T is a dreary, long day to the grinding, But a short, pleasant way from the mill. But fondness and faith will be growing. Be the sky clear or cloudy above. When fortune is ripe to my mowing We shall gather our harvest of love! - 26 MabeL MABEL. I. Thy lips are like the sweet red rose, Mabel mine. Thy head a lily fair at pose, That by some wooing brooklet grows, Peerless Mabel mine. The clinging clusters of thy hair The glory of a sunset wear, Thy cheeks are damask roses fair, Mystic Mabel mine. Thy sweet face haunts me night and day, Mabel mine. I mourn thee as alone I stray Where willows kiss the wavelet's spray. Beauteous Mabel mine ; And as the willows woo the wave — The waves the lilies which they lave — So woo I thee, and pity crave, Sweet my Mabel mine. I «i Mabel. ^1 Thou didst not read thy heart aright, Mabel mine : But thoughtest love's fair, dawning light Could pass, as noonday into night, Foolish Mabel mine ! Or didst thou hold it somewhat wrong To listen to thy soul's swt^et song That sought to cheer thy lifetime long, Modest Mabel mine ? And is thy love all lost to me, Mabel mine ? Dost think that I will set thee free To long, sad years of misery, Sweetest Mabel mine ? I know I hold thy virgin love, And heaven from its place shall move, Or I will all thy fondness prove, Sweet my Mabel mine ! ill 28 Mabel. -!l II. Swim the swallows o'er the lea. From the sea sweet echoes wake. O'er the lake the plovers free Flit from mossv rock and brake. Mabel, when the waving trees To the breeze in sorrow sing, Whispering strange melodies, All to thee my thoughts take wing. List ! The lonesome whip-poor-will By the rill his greeting sings, As it springs far down the hill, Tossing gems on iri -ies' wings. Were my heart a fairy bright. Or that sprite of streamlet clear, Swift to where thou art to-night Would it wend to warble there. Mabel. 29 III. Through evening's golden ray We drifted on the bay : The west beneath the sun's warm kisses blushed : The crying sea-mews rushed, On wings all sunray flushed. To seek their nests on lone rocks far away. Across the sea-foam white The sunbeams sparkled bright, And jjaved a path of glory from the west, And threw their rays to rest On Mabel's gt.itle breast. And lit. her face as with celestial light. Afar, where sky and sea Are wed in harmony. And blend their waving robes of white-flecked blue, The swift-winged vessels flew The waning sunset through, And seemed like souls from earthly bonds set free. Ah! vast expanse of sea — What unread mystery Sings in thy waves and whispers in thy gale ! 30 Mabel. ' m\\ Our mortal spirits fail To solve thy wondrous tale — Thou holclest something of Eternity ! There, as the twilight fell, Our spirits felt thy spell, And hearts could speak though lips no language knew. In Mabel's eyes of blue I read a promise true - Found joys which can all earthly cares dispel. ♦' Sweet Mabel ! ( rende heart ! No death can e\'er part Our wedded souls which blend in harmony, And all the bliss we know In happy years below Is earnest of our sweet Eternity I Loves Contrast, LOVE'S CONTL^ASr. Who are these with woe-worn faces Standing at my side — These who weep in lonely places ? These are they, my bride, These are they by love were lost, These are they whom fate hath crost, The}' whose kisses turned to curses. Such are they, my bride ! 31 Who are these whose glorious graces Years may never hide — These who hallow lifc'r. dark places ? These are they, ni) bride, These are they by love were won : Pure of life to shame the sun : They whose hearts are h;ippy \'erses. Such art thou, my bride ! 32 The Silent Song. THE SILENT SONG. Ah I sweet wert thou to me, as to the bee The buds and blooms that blow in gardens fair, And yet of thee, so rare, I may not sing ! Too near, too dear wert thou, too i)ure a thing For careless st)ng and thoughdess rendering. No mortal ear shall hear me chant thy praise. • Thy j)raise is in my soul, unspeakable, A ceaseless song of sighs and threnodies. When time has hushed his hymn whose rhymes are years. Whose verses hearts, and stanzas agonies, Again we meet — God grant, and lead thy feet, Sweet one, through jileasant ])aths to that sweet tryst. Sea Graves, SEA GRAVES. A MAIDEN sang low by the rippling rill, On the mossy hill of the whispering ])ine, Where the pale stars shine in the evening still, While the nightingales sing on the lea. To her pure young heart all the world seemed fair, , No shadow of cai e on her brow could rest, For sweet in her breast, and low in her ear, ■ Sang her bright, virgin loxe in its glee. But blight on the bloom of her happiness fell ; The Mermaids know well that her loved one lies Where the Nereid hies through the pearl-paved dell To her coral -lined ca\'e of the sea. 'a' Now she roams at night wlu're the ])itying waves Sob dirges o'er graves in the dej)ths below ; She whispers her woe to the echoing caves, 'Midst the murmuring mT ^ » ■^^yr"*^^-_,-'A!> ,->■'■' pc^ • ■ ; y 1 1 J 38 What Matters Itf WHAT MATTERS IT? 11 i: I'l:-' 11 What matters it to me what far strange sky Should form a vault where I to rest am placed, Or what hot waste should spread my bones to dry ? And what care I ? What matters it to me ! Did I not lie In that dear spot where I have laid to sleep, In silence deep, the forms for which I sigh. Thither my bones would creep, my phantom fly. So much care I. What matters it to me \( no sad eye Should answer tear to sigh above my tomb — No loved one come to weep me where I lie ? And what care I ? What matters it to me ! The agony Of soul to think that she whom I love best Should never rest her head where cold I lie, Would haunt me even in eternity. So much care I. i * Love s Proposal. 39 LOVE'S PROPOSAL. Come make thy nest beneath my eaves, Where lopes the sunHght through the vine, And pleasant fancies intertwine With rustling shades of shifting leaves. And let thy sweet, young cheery voice Fill all the chambers of my heart With floods of song, the angels' art, And make my weary soul rejoice. O dove, my birdie ! Love, my love ! Come, flutter fondly to my breast. And I shall guard thy warm, sweet nest From suns that stay, from winds that rove. ;■> '~?i1 ffitr*"'ri if n FrT tt ■•"t^"'' I 4.0 Loves Attainment. LOVE'S ATTAINMENT. si Iffll 11 li Who knows of labor, most may enter rest : Who hungers long and faints for food enjoys the feast the best : ' Who wages war well welcomes peace : the slave best free- dom knows : Thus I, when weary waitings cease, can hail my full rei)ose. Thy smile enthralls my heart as birds are held by serpent's gleams ; ■ ' To noiseless mood my life is wooed, my soul to voiceless dreams. Cold were the world and worthless if no power Of beauty's smile, no whispered love, could pierce the clouds that lower. Far brighter than all earthly things the soul's soft glances prove ; : ; Vax stronger than the voice of kings the low-breathed word of love. 11 Loves Attainment. 41 Those smiles give valor to the blood, and nerve the arm for strife ; Those loves instill the mystic thrill, and mull the wine of life. The long oblivion of the clinging kiss — The palor painted on the cheek by passion's thrilling bliss — The upturned face — the dark eyes veiled — the pulsing of the breast, While earth stood still, and knowledge failed, and time was laid to rest — And virtue walking hand in hand with largess large of good — All these were thine, O wife of mine, O perfect woman- hood ! I peer across the tumult of my life, And see behind wild waves of doubt and bitter storms of --■■■- strife. "'-■ ■' - ^ - ^::;— . " ;-, - V .... -^ ; .,,^;:\:„ r But ever through the blackest night one light incessant shone, To hold my waning, straining sight, to cheer my spirit on. ^1 ><:• 42 Loves Attainment. That light the boundless beauty beaming brightly from thy soul — Thy fairest face and rarest grace— to beckon to the goal. P And now in peace I fold thee to my breast, As robed in beauty like my bride the sun rolls down the west, I gaze into thy glorious eyes and drink deep drafts of lite ; I faintly hear thy joyous sighs, my winsome, willing wife ; We kiss, and all our lives are rolled in ecstacies which move The ringing spheres and singing years to bless our holy love. The Last Dream. 43 THE LAST DREAM. Full deep is thy slumber to-night, And stilled is the throb of thy breast, But thy face holds a glorious light. And I know that thy dreaming is blest. Full pure are the fl<;wers of May, And sweet is their Heaven-born breath. But purer and sweeter than they, Are the fragrant, pale lilies of death. It is well with the beauteous wife As she folds her young babe to her breast It is well to know pleasures of life, It is better with souls that find rest. Then sleep in thy cold, narrow bed, In the merciful, infinite rest. We leave thee alone with the dead, But we know that thy dreaming is blest. 44 Extracts from '' Maodalene. >> EXTRACTS EROM -'MAGDALENE. >» Ian unfinished pokm.] SONG. Cease, Oh cease, low-sobbing sea ! All thy murmured lore. Sighed in trancing melody To the lisping shore, Wakes my soul to agony, Raises buried memory Of days that are no more. Hush, Oh hush, low-whispering breeze! Every passing moan. Softly wailing through the trees. Bears some cherished tone, Speaks of rapturous ha/monies Woven through our desdnies In die years long gone. Extracts from ' ' Magdalene. 45 Splash, O silver sea-spray ! Woo the willing shore. Wave, O stormy billows ! Wild winds loudly roar. Mild or wild in wooing. All your love, I ween, Knows far less of happiness Than I and Magdalene. Flit, O lark, to Heaven ! Warble through the gate Of the speechless pleasure In our hearts elate. Never loves of story Near and dear have been, As the sweH, full love, com})lete. Of me and Magdalene. Can this golden day-dream Ever fade from view ? Can the clouds of heaven Shadow hearts so true ? Pass, O golden sunlight ! Shroud, O cloud, the scene ! My sunlight lies within the eyes Of happy Magdalene ! /*" _i-^miHmmmMk 46 ! I ) Extracts from ''Magdalene!' \ 1 Mocking sun, go hide thee Down the welcome west. Jeering night, abide thee With thy mocking rest. O, my heart, loud-sobbing In thy sorrow keen, Death and Hell are robbing Thee of Magdalene. Fall, ye frowning mountains ; Crush my shrieking soul. Swell, ye mocking fountains Till your waters roll, Wave, and dash in fury Me and Heaven l^etween : Lost is Heavens glory — Lost is Magdalene. Saints of Satan, hither Haste on, pinions swift ; Bear my spirit whither Hell's black portals lift.' I shall have no measure Of Heaven's joy, I ween ; Lost my soul! —my treasure Is with Magdalene. Extracts from ' * Magdalejie. ' ' 47 THE VISION. I wake with a cry in the night, And I see her standing there, In the golden glare of the bright moon's light Which kisses her golden hair. Then I see that two streams of gold Flow out from her path and away, Through the shadows gray of the midnight cold, Like a sea of golden spray. Then she, as she stands on die floor, Smiles, ah! so sweet' on me. A soulless thought conies tluiterini; (»'er — Ah me ! what that thought cm he ! Then all of the moon -lit room Is lit with more-golden light, And the shadows of night seem to lose tiieir gloom, And to hold a presence more bright. Then over my thirsting soul Falls a quiet full deep antl sweet, And our lives again seem to smoothly roll, As two streamlets that softly meet. - 1' iii in 48 Extracts froyn " Magdalene. M But the stream which they make as they meet Is misty and hidden from me, Like the golden sea which waves from her feet, Far over the misty lea. Then I hear a low babbling noise, As a brook might babble in glee ; Or a babe might make with its lisping voice — Ah me ! what that noise can be ! Then she, as she stands or the floor, Gazes, ah ! so fondly on me, And the old, old thought comes fluttering o'er- Ah me ! what that thought can be ! As the flickering moonbeams wane She taketh her noiseless flight. The empty night foils cheerless aga\n, And my soul loses all its light. Her robe was prest to her breast As if something she hid from me. With a sigh I flee to my sleepless rest — Ah me! what that thought can be! Extracts from '' Magdalene^ 49 SONG. Back to thee ! Back to thee ! Back to thy heart Speed I on wings of love ; Why should we part ? Faults I thought faults of thine, Sweet, were but faults of mine : Holy as love divine Love of thy heart ! Pure as the light of day Thoughts of thy breast. Quick speed the weary way Back, to my rest. i M^ m mm ee i^c e ii a 1/t c o t i »> H ;0 c vn ^3 ro^ aW Irti" i'i ^p- y Amaranthis. AMARANTHUS. In the silence of the night Came the word to me — Whispered by some winged fair\ ' Write a song, a miserere, Some sweet plaint for souls sin-weary, Groping for the light.' Then I grasped the chain of thought, 'Neath the heavenly glow; And the clanking links were slowly Welded into something holy, A soft requiem, a lowly Song not often wrought. In the morn my soul was pained, For the song had fled: 'Twas an Amaranthine flower, F^rom some sweet Parnassian bovver. Sought by Poets each swift hour, Sought, but ne'er attained. ?1TS liiS ' ' IS ! ' Kr 54 Moonbeams. MOONBEAMS, At night I wandered on the hill : Across the flithomless, blue sky, The moon majestic drifted by, While softly sang the rippling rill. Below me lay the peaceful lea. Where balmy breeze with night mist played, Where, half in moonlight, half in shade. The village church rose solemnly. The low wind, sighing through the trees Like some soft whisper from the dead, Enchanted held my wandering tread, And filled my soul with mysteries. Then thoughts of things which once could be Arose with spirit-wringing sigh, And thoughts of times and friends gone by. And thoughts of what w ^ cannot see. Moonbeams. d:) The village church-yard in the vale Is dwelling of a score of friends : The pitying moonbeam grave-ward wends To read a solemn marble tale. The stones shine white where mist has fled ; And though I mourn each cherished name, Yet hope, and faith, and truth proclaim, "The soul, God's breath, is never dead." , And yet— and yet I wish it so — To clasp once more unto my breast,— In perfect peace, in utter rest. The one who loved me most below. Oh, cease, my heart ! The fleecy cloud Of life which dims the immortal noon Is passing, and the spirit soon Shall cast aside its earthly shroud. * 56 Moonbeams. Enough. The bounding brooklet here Has tarried, and its HHed face Smiles twinkling starlight back to space - Soft moonlight back to moon -lit air. Then o'er the ocean of the mind There flitted misty, dreamy thought Of Him who earth from chaos brought, Who gave His image to mankind. First made He man of mother earth, And in the image placed a soul To rule and sanctify the whole — To make the body something worth. The clay He moulded moulds our clay, And down the vista dark of time We shall prolong the plan sublime, And He bestow the immortal ray. . In every blowing bud I find, — In every fruit, in every tree. In deep blue sky, in deep blue sea, New proofs of His Almighty mind. Moonbeams. 57 I gaze upon the azure sky Where whirl the planets round the sun : What unknown worlds their courses run In regions far beyond the eye! • And as I gaze on spanless space, " I ask my meagre, mortal mind, Can I to space a limit find — Can I such magnitude embrace? And failing thus to understand Things which I gaze on every hour, I question not the unseen Power, Nor limit Him to mind and hand. Say, heart, what thinkest thou of love? Ah ! love is sweet, for love is life, And love is stronger far than strife, And liveth here, nor dies above. ss Moo7ibearns. Death's pillows hold the beauteous head Which once could nestle on my breast ; Death's lilies guard her inviolate rest, And love for her is never dead. * And heart, what thinkest thou of death ? Ah ! death is dismal, dark and drear — Death culleth all our blossoms fair — Death blighteth love with icy breath. But soul, what thinkest thou of death ? Ah ! death is sweet where lives are holy Death bringeth peace to higli and lowly, And sweet his kisses, warm his breath. Ah ! deathless soul ! the passing night, Which lifts horn hill, and lake, and lea, Is to the morn as death to thee — A chimge from gloom to all things bright. \ III Hafiz and the Persian King. 59 HAFIZ AND THE PERSIAN KING. " For the beauty which is cradled In my hidy's dimpled cheek, Bokhara and Samarcand — Were the gift mine to bestow it — Were a price by far too meek ; " So sang Hafiz, Persia's Poet. Tamerlane, the King of Persia, Growled in anger, " Bring him here : " Chided Hafiz — " He it known, Poet, in your love-sick ditties Bold it is that you should dare So to speak of my two cities." Sofdy Hafiz, " Can my lowly Gifts impoverish Persia's King?" I.aughed the King in merry mood — Laughed the dames like l)rooklets streaming " Sweedy, Hafiz, do you sing, And my* anger was but seeming." 6o Canute and the Waves. CANUTE AND THE WAVES, This pleasing tale is told: Canute, the Dane, of old wore England's crown. His courtiers said : " O King, thy great renown Could quell the might of ocean wild and bold, And make the waves bow down." To chide the foolish boast, The Dane said to the host : " Place here my seat. O waves, with homage due your Sovereign greet; Advance no iarther on the hallowed coast, Nor dare to wet my feet." The rising billows dashed Against the rocks and lashed the shifting sand ; And as thc> washed at will across the strand, Canute si>ok.; to his Batterers abashed, . With chiding noble, grand. -^ ; Canute and the Waves. 6i " What strength has mortal King ? The crisping wavelets tling their white sea-spray Against my robe, and seem to mock as they From sand and rock re-eddy, whispering Their ceaseless roundelay. *' Have I almighty will, That I should seek to still the boundless sea? Am I a God to hold such power as He Who in the hour when storm-winds bellowed shrill Calmed raging Galilee? "Oh, mortal pride is blind! This golden crown shall bind no n-)re my brow, But on the graven type of Christ shall glow. His word sufficed the winds and waves combined In awe-hushed peace to bow." •4i The B^^ooklefs Lament. THE BROOKLETS LAMENT Down the hillside, o'er the glen, Round the rock and througli the fen, Ever with a song of glee Sped I onward to the sea. Now, as on my way 1 go, All my song is all of woe. Would you care to know the cause ? Shall I tell you how it was ? Once a pretty village maid At my brink her footstep stayed, Softly sank on dimpled knee, With her ripe lips kissing me. Lightly, then, did she recline 'Neath my climbing jessamine : Gazed upon me, called me sweet, As I touched her pretty feet. The Brooklet's Lament. 63 Gazed I back into her eyes, Blue as are my twin-seen skies, Till the beauteous, drowsy lid From my gaze their blue depths hid. Ah, but she was wondrous fair ! All her wealth of golden hair Waved and shimmered in the breeze As she slept to croon of bees. Every day she came this way : Humbly did I homage pay ; Every day, in rapture sweet. Did our lips in kisses meet. From my grasp her hands would wrest Lilies for her gentle breast ; Blooms which on my breast were bright Darkened on her bosom white. B.ut one day, one dismal day, As she came along the way. At her side there walketl a man ! Through my Hood a flutter ran. 64 The Brooklets Lament. V::. Merrily they came along: No more thought she of my song. Sweeter for her willing ear Was his mellow voice to hear. i\ll my heart was filled with woe When I saw him, bending low, Weave a garland for her hair, Of my ferns and lilies fair. All my waves in fury rose, As I saw my worst of foes Round her waist his arms entv/ine. Touching lips which once touched mine. There with love and laughter gay Whiled they golden eve away. Down the west the red sun went; Closer down my willows bent. Low he knelt before my Queen ; Both her pretty hands between Both of his he closely held; — Willed she not, nor yet rebelled* - The Brooklet's Lament. 65 Well her eyes the love-light knew ! Down the silken lashes flew. All mv roses, red and sweet. With her bloom could not compete. Closer bent he to her face — Caught her in a warm embrace — Murmured sofdy in her ear Words too low for me to hear. All mv weeping willows wept, All my sweetest songsters slept, As she, with a soft caress, Murmured half, half gazed, her " Ves. All my lilies feU my woe. Whispered " Lady, do not go." All my songsters sleep forgot, Warbled " Lady, leaVe us not." From my bowers went the twain ; Never came she back again — From my bosom passed the light. On my waters fell the night. fi 66 The Brooklet's La^nent. Were I but some wild cascade, Perhaps my suit in hope were made. Were I but some surging sea, Then she had thought more of me. Ever, ever, as I go. Murmur I my song of wov, — " Weep, my willows, weep for me Sadly toiling to the sea." America. 67 [sonnet.] AMERICA. Columbus came to thee and called thee new ! New World to him, but thy rich blood, bright gold. Lay cold where once the fires manifold Raged fiercely. New ? Primeval forests grew, Had fallen, and were coal! Thine eagles flew Undaunted then as now, and where the bold South Rocky Mountains rise in fold on fold The Aztec to his God the victim slew. The tropic verdure of thy far north world Had passed for ever, moon-like fading out. Sky-piercing mounts have reared them from the seas — The lost Adands has been depth-ward hurled. Since thou wert new ! — Old ! . all thy landmarks shout, And bid us read thy waiting mysteries. '.'iiJJRMliU'"!" 68 ''The Wild Lee Shore!' [SONCx.] THE WILD LEE SHOREr See out on the Ocean the dark clouds descending ! The billows are seething and far flies the foam. A beautiful vessel, with gallant nr bending, Is painfully beating her stormy way home. Oh, say, will she weather the wild lee shore, Or add to the dismal host Haunting the rock-bound coast One phantom more ? ■ She rises and sinks on the high-swelling billows ; She groans as she trembles from top -mast to keel ; Roars the wind through her cordage like gales through the* willows, '- ' v " ■ ^ • And two gallant seamen are lashed to the wheel. Oh, pray she may weather the wild lee shore, And folding her wings to rest, Unto the maiden's breast Her love restore. • , . . :M At Christinas Time, AT CHRISTMAS TIME, The yule-lo^- blazes bright to-night Within the old baronial castle, And in its cheerful, dancing light Meet Lord and Vassal. Rich banners on the walls are hung ; And where the vacant mail reposes, Some sire is crowned by maidens young With wreath of roses. 69 And where the vines entwining droop Their graceful arches from the ceiling The ruddy holly-berries group. Their glow revealing. The poor man by the rich is hailed, And greeted as an honoured brother, And hands are -'isped which once were mailed 'Gainst e another. ■o At Chnshnas Time. For 'tis the gladsome Christmas time, And hearts with love and kindness flutter, Full-flooded by a joy sublime They cannot utter. Below the magic mistletoe Gleams golden wealth of waving tresses, And red cheeks wear a riper glow From youth's caresses. Far floats the music through the Hall : Full merry grow the jest and dancing. And under lids that coyly fall Are bright eyes glancing. But list ! The welcome Christmas Bells Are from the Abbey loudly ringing : Sweeter the tale their music tells - Than mortal singing! Evening o?i the Marshes. EVENING ON THE MARSHES. We have roamed the marshes, keen with expectation ; Lain at eve in ambush, where the ducks are wont to fly; Felt the feverish fervor, the thrilHng, full pulsation, As the flocks came whirring from the rosy western sky. All day long the sun with heat, and breeze with coolness, Smote or kissed the grasses, and it seemed another lake Flooded o'er the land and up the hills in fullness, Shadows for the billows, sunshine for the waves that break. Now beneath the pine, whose branches voice the breezes, Passed the toil of day, we lie like gods in utter peace. This is life's full nectar, this from care releases ; Oh, to rest for ever here where toil and tumult cease! Slowly down the west the weary day is dying ; > Slowly up the east ascends the mellpw, mystic moon ; Evening on the Marshes. Swiftly swoop the hawks ; the hooting owls are flying ; Through the darksome splendor breaks the lonesome cry of loon. Ghost-like move the sails along the lake's long distance ; Faintly wafts the sailors' weirdsome song the waters o'er ; Faint the wavelets' music, as with low insistence, Break thev softly singing on t)ie drowsy sandv shore. Wooing ULJ in whispers, water, earth and heaven — Mystic whispers wafted o'er the darksome, waving deep — Win US to themsehes, our old creative leaven. And we, mingling with theiu, softly sink to dreamless sleep. i* Suninse on the Ocean. n SUNRISE ON THE OCEAN. I STAND beside the sleeping; Sea To view the morn. The shades of night Rise from its bosom silently. The golden light from out the Oate Of t'eaven streams and take^ its flight O'er wakening wave and whispering beach. As tar as eager eye can reach, O'er verdant isle and mirroring strait, The sot reM^ence fails and glows. The sunravs break across the sea ; O'er mountain, meadow, lake and lea The rich light leaps, and sweeps, and tiows, Till all the swelling radiancy Springs perfect in a new-ijorn day. Along the Ocean's level tide The pale mists glide and Hee the sun. Like midnight phantoms, swift th^^y run 74 Sunrise on the Ocean. Before the searching day and hide Far down tlie west, PVorn rest the waves Awake and shake their robes of foam Beneath the glorious morning sky, And sparkling in tlie sunbeams, roam To wliisper in resounding caves Weird notes of Neptune's melody. P^resh from the diirksome realms ol" night The breezes ruff the Ocean's breast : The slumbering vessels start frcun rest And spread their lofty sails of white. Oh ! safely., swiftly wing the seas. Ye loresomc wanderers o'er the dee]), Below wh(jse ways vast naviej* sleep, And bear to waiting nati\'e quays T'he rich returns from crowded marts, The sun-born fruits iT tropic lands, The regal gifts of goldci. strands, The loves of c(*nstant, longing liearts. mummammma^^ I Stmrise (m the Ocean. 7d Who knows the dangers of the deep — The ships that go, but never come — The widowed hearts that wait and weep — The missing sunshine of the home — The stalwart forms — the honest hands That grace no more their natal lands — The thunder's crash — the lightning's glare The wrack upon the middle seas — The fimiine and the wild despair, — The sweetest gift that reason flees, — May hold our hardy sailors brave, May breathe a prayer such lives to save. The glowing sun mounts high in air ! Come ! Flee liis burning rays that fall, And in some shady grotto, where The droning waves break dreamily, And fainUy floats the sea-mew's call, Recount strange lays of hoary sea. \ ^'£k»i..d^J:S,j_t >ii< »~'>"i^-S 76 Sunset on the Ocean. SUNSET ON THE OCEAN, I'm fciiiii has mndf the sea his bed. Ill guld and red arrayed, the West ShhleH tiB If rinuvfD'B portal bright Wt'rc oped In cast inuiiorlMl hght Upon the Ocean's breast. The sapphire waves throuj^h coral sweep ; The mermaids leap from caves below ; Lulled on the kissing wavelet's crest, Tliey sing with harps to bosoms prest Heneath the sunset's glow. From wind-kissed lips of purling foam Sweet echoes roam, and tips of waves Wease golden snakes and flakes of flame To light the merry mermens' game, And gild 'he deep sea-caves. Sunset on the Ocean. 11 The sea-mev^ wings the breathing air, And half in fear he sings his call, As over such enchanted seas To reach his mate he quickly flees, While twilight shadows fall. The mists of night like ghosts arise, And from the skies the light erase. With one lung sigh in sympathy, We homewnrd turn, O my ' sea, With solemn, lingering pace. h *■■ 78 Charity. CHARITY. Come ! walk with the world and go down to the destitute homes of the poor, Where weeping is louder than laughter, where sorrow and famine abide ; Where Azrael reaps a full harvest and darkens each desolate door ; And learn of the lowly and meek to lessen your thought- less pride. I have seen my Lady flash by — a beauteous vision of ease ; I have seen the widow at work till the shadows of night fled the day ; I have seen God's poor drink the cup of sorrow and toil to the lees ; I have seen the wicked get wealth, and the good go empty away. " The poor are unworthy, and sinnmg is found in the homes of the low. Charity. 79 If we give we but pander to vice . the beggars our gifts will abuse." So say you, and pass in your pride, but your heart cries out as you go, " The vile are the first to ape virtue ; the wicked the first to accuse I Communist ? Not I ! But I hold that the miser who hugs to his heart What for him is but clay and a curse, but to some would be blessing and bread, Is selling his merciful Saviour. Better throw down the price and depart ; Better, belike, do as Judas, put a rope to his miserable head. Twould be well with you, Midas, to pity the poor who are tarrying here. They may count to your jut>t condemnation the tears which their hungry babes weep. Though you harden your heart for a lifetime, and turn an adamant ear. Their wails may pierce through to your coftin and trouble your long, last sleep. 8o Chanty. It -I ^11 / % i-''i How read you the Scriptures ? What say they ? " These three with the world now abide, Hope, charity, faith, and the greatest is charity - blessed above all." Our hands should be fruitful and open. The field for our giving is wide, And blessing shall follow the gifts, though the power to give may be small. Then time may toil on with its tumults, its troubles and tempests of tears ; The sweet, voiceless shadows shall hold us till striving and sorrow are past. We shall wake full refreshed to the judgment, though wc slumber for eons of years ; And the Lord shall show us His glory, we shall be like to God at the last. Jw^<.^ ^^. ^t^ '^"^W^^