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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 'i 1 PRINl L &M ^' ; GEMS FOR T P HE riOME UII^CLE -I <■>! < ORIGINAL POEMS OF MRS, CARRIE LEONARP, -» <^> I LONDON, ONTARIO: PRINTED BY J. CAMERON A BRO., ADVERTISER OFFICE. 1869. 1 ■ ^ • — TO ^^ Cfewbljeb Htmorg of Pg fait f usbanb, W. T. LEONARD, M.D., OP BALTIMORE, MARYLAND, THIS LITTLE WORK IS AFFKCTIONATEL\ '■ Jcbicaleb. * ■ 'i' . "* * • Entered according to Act of Parliament of Canada, thousand eight hundred and sixty-nine, by Mrs. in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. in the year one Carrie Leonard, « • Tn Memor^am. Gone From all the toils of this vain fleeting life, From earth where care embitters every joy, And hope's most cherished blossoms Wither in the bud. Gone From this busy life, where human weal or woe Make up the sum of our existence here ; For good or ill we're borne upon its tide for a brief space, Then sink where all the ages of the past In solemn phalanx move, to the deep shade Whore dark Oblivion throws her sable mantle over all| Shutting her victims in from the stern gaze Of those who follow them on Time's swift wings. Gone I solemn thought ! No more shall Nature's sweetest music Fall in melody upon thy listening ear 1 Alike to thee her softest whisperings, And the loud crash of thunders. Or the deep voice of the swift cataract That vanishes from sight To the unmeasured depths below, Leaving behind nought but the echo of its solemn tones. Gone, And no more those eyes may reverently behold The finger of Omnipotence tracing the earth with beauty ; No more may open to my gaze Those windows of a noble soul within, Whence emanated feelings lofty and sublime. As mortals in their tenement of clay may know. iv. IX MRMORIAM. Gone, And the gentle touch of sympathy Wakes not an echoing within thy frame ; Life's wires have ceased to move 1 Henceforth they bear no message to the waiting braiii) For it hath ceased its motions, and it rests— A rest 80 deep, so utter and profound. That the loud crash of war, or thunder's peal, Awakes it not— the calm is still the same. Gone, And no more thy gentle step is heard In well known haunts of home, Where I was wont to listen for the welcome sound ; Henceforth on other ears still other sounds must fall) To waken joy in other hearts than mine. Gone, Yes, gone to Him who gave thee spirit life, And taught thee that his Providence Ruleth in wisdom over earth abroad ; , In justice boundless, infinite. Ho took from earth that which He lent a while, And mortals bowed submissive to His will. Gone, Yet how hard, hard, to say in everything, "Thy will, God, be done." Leaning upon Thine arm, let me pray, Finish the work Thy wisdom hath begun, Nor let the faltering one stray from Thy fold. Till fadeless immortality shall crown my brow, And I be gathered homo wliere he is now. Pl\EF ACE. Complying with the advice of many friends, I tast forth into the ocean of literature this little work, sincerely hoping it may be kindly received in the household, where it is designed quietly to enter and beguile the passing hour. It is true, indeed, that "We are living, we are dwelling, In a grand and awful time, In an age cij ages telling— To be living is sublime." In this "sublime age" — the nineteenth century — the arts and sciences have reached a proud climax before unattained in the annals of history. Mind — that glorious endowment commited to mortal keeping for a season — reaches far out into the hidden mysteries of Nature, and lays open her choicest treasures. These the more gifted eagerly grasp and enjoy, as they onward move in the great wake of life. At no previous time has literature been -so universally diffused as now. But alas, alas, that it is, in so large a proportion, so corrupt, so demoral- VL PREFACE. izing, tending to poison the young mind, and implant there false ideas of real life. If this little work may be found to have a counter influence upon society, in however limited a degree, then indeed will my fondest hopes be most happily realized ; and with renewed courage I shall enter more vigorously upon that labor which is now my highest earthly ambition, and during life and health, continue to add my mites to the literature of the day. ^ Authoress. OUT IN THE STREET. —Btbon. "y the Christ " was born. And many hastened humbly to renew Their vows of faithfulness unto their God While some who but in snirif .k- ' " m 46 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, tell me not a God of love and truth In justice reigns upon His throne above, While thus she suffers since her early youth. Only because she yielded to his love. In bitter accents thus she fiercely spoke, Then sunk in grief upon her wretched bed. The listener said, " O fearful is the stroke, But say not from thee every hope has fled. " The darkest hour presages coming morn, Trust me, I'll be to thee a faithful friend : 1 too have walked on many a piercing thorn, With none on earth to succor or defend. " The tale is thine; the suffering too is thine ; 'Tis one of life's strange mysteries that we meet; Out of this fearful darkness light may shine — No more shalt thou go friendless through the street. " Forsake this life. Think what thy child may be, Should she but live to woman's dawning morn : Think, wouldst thou have her lead a life like thee. Only to bear the world's most bitter scorn.'* ONE OF life's mysteries. 47 " My child, like me, the slave of hate and lust" — Rising from off the couch she wildly said — " Rather into the flames I'd see her thrust, Or with my hand would lay her early dead ! " Thou sayest truly that this tale is mine — I, the despised, abandoned of the earth. Once in youth's innocence was wont to shine. The pride and hope of those who gave me birth. " Canst thou indeed have pity ? Yes, I know How freely this world's pity falls on me ; How quick the tear of sympathy can flow When the gay world may neither knownor se e. * " Full well I know of all things most despised Is woman, fallen to a life of shame ; Most deeply, too, she mourns for what she prized, And longs and strives her treasure to reclaim. " But, ah ! how vain, for earth and hell combine To make her feel how hopeless is her lot ; Poor vidtim \ slain upon lust's basest shrine, On her all, all behold the leperous spot \" •4^ m * ■ • ^t 48 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, " Too true is all thou sayest," her friend replied, " Wrongs, cruel wrongs, oppress our glorious land; But there is something good on earth beside. Have I not said Td take thee by the hand? " I'll be to thee a sister and a friend, The needful aid for thee I'll freely seek ; And to the haughty thy sad case defend. Reminding them that mortals are but weak. " And should I meet thee in the busy street, I will not pass thee with a scornful bow ; * But with the friendship kindred spirits meet, 111 take thy hand as pleased as I do now. " Think not my life has been a waveless sea. Full well I know the depth of sorrow's storms ; Nor cared I how unchecked they beat on me. So I could shield my loved, my tender forms. ** Blest babes, how innocent, how free from care, I've laid them in their couch to quiet sleep. And wished them old enough my griefs to share, As through the long night hours I used to weep. iil! ONE OF life's mysteries. 49 ** To think that all my happy, youthful dreams Had vanished, as the sparkling dews of morn — To think what I believed was love's pure beams, Had changed so soon to cruel hate and scorn. " O think not all the agony was thine, Nor that temptation only came to thee,— That other's suns do ail unclouded shine, — That others from such trials are all free. <* But now maternal duly calls me home ; The same soft voice doth whisper to thee, too jt No longer in the streets forlorn to roam, But, for her sake, thy daily life renew. " Be comforted, poor stricken one, I pray ; For thee a kindred soul with pity yearns ; Trust Heaven, once more to be thy help, thy stay, For Heaven alone the inner soul discerns. " Again I'll see thee, when a happier smile Shall light thy face, accustomed long to grief; Though now I leave thee, 'tis but for a while, I'll surely come and bring thee kind relief." ,nu isliii mm ' ll!'i;i v':ilTlllli 50 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, She said, and took her by the wasted hand, While tears of gratitude ran down that cheek, Where poverty had left its furrowed brand ; Her throbbing heart was full, too full to speak. And thus she parted from this child of grief. And to her home and children hastened on. Thinking how she might best obtain relief For her, from whom all faith and hope seemed gone. Joyous agdn to greet their mother dear. They gathered round her in their childish mirth ; And happy she their innocence to hear. For home to her was " dearest spot on earth," And calmly, when the evening shadows came. She laid them in their little beds to rest ; While genius, kindled from her spirit's flame. Described, in glowing words, some soul's unrest. And swiftly flew her pen, as with new power Imbued, since she misfortune's child had found ; Page followed page, until the midnight hour Had gathered sacred stillness, all around. ONE OF life's mysteries. 51 For thus, while others sought refreshing sleep, Her fruitful brain, with magic power, conceived Tales which oft make the tender-hearted weep, Because life, as it iSy makes them believed. Into the flood of literature she cast Full many a gem of pure and noble thought, And saw it in the current as it past. As if by other hands, and brain, 'twas wrought. Not she of worldly riches was possessed, Nor wealth of Ophir's costly treasured mines ; For lofty genius was her sole bequest. And noblest virtues that the soul enshrines. -I Happy her life, to see her children grow In innocence, beneath her fostering care ; Willing her toil, that they no want should know. And willing with the poor Heaven's gifts to share. But this new charge would quite o'ertax her power, So she must look to others too, for aid ; True, she had helped her for the present hour, And poverty's most bitter hand had stayed. M 'b ! :i>.l! I i i ' ! Ill I I iliiijllil !|l i in'ii.i inui.ii.! ,■ , ill 1 1 I 1 ^liiill! I hi !i II! 52 OUT IN THE STREET J OR, O, what a noble thing a generous heart, How it can triumph o'er contending foes I Making the darkest clouds asunder part, And bringing to the restless ones repose. These are the green oases which we find Bestudding life's lone desert as we go ; Souls of true culture, lofty, and refined, Whose sympathies for others freely flow. Like as the sky, without a single star. To guide the mariner to his native shore, Were earth, without these lights that shine afar. To sooth our spirits while the breakers roar. Forth on her heavenly mission went this friend Of sorrow's child ; nor wist she whom to ask Their kind assistance, generously to lend, Without uplifting to the world the mask Which her poor friend had humbly craved might rest To screen her from the world's most searching eye; Because she deemed herself the most unblest, And fain to dark obscurity would fly. ii!!!!! ONE OF life's mysteries. S3 Hopeful she went where gold is bought and sold, And fortunes made and vanquished in an hour ; Where many a Croesus treasures wealth untold, Where despots rule because they have the power. Yet even here, in this tumultuous mart, Are souls as noble as elsewhere we tind ; Here soon she found a kind and generous heart. Who to her tale of grief his ear inclined. Freely he offered with a generous hand More than she dared to ask of worldly wealth ; Wishing that the recipient soon might stand. Inspired by hope, restored to moral health. ii f * Lighter in spirit home she quickly turned, Musing on life's mysterious, chequered way ; And as she mused hope's fires brightly burned. Pointing her to a coming happier day. Rejoiced to know success had crowned her toil, Her daily task with zeal renewed was wrought ; Nor wished she from her labors to recoil, Since Heaven had thus such early blessings brought. il Jti, H II; !l|lllllHlri>i'M ii''\" i-!rniii;:'ii'ii] I ' 1 )|||!l!il !Pil!i|l i !i">!|il l(!:^ .llr- Jj |ii:^:l!V;i:y|ii; 'ml 54 OUT IN THE street; OR, A few short days had told their busy round Since she had left her newly formed friend ; To whom by pity's cord her heart was bound, Because in sympathy their souls could blend. Her grey eye sparkled with a Heavenly light, As she beheld in Fancy's vivid dream The erring one brought back to truth and right, And with her child glide down life's purer stream. When by her side the little Laura stood Weeping as though her tender heart might break ; Seeing her in such deeply troubled mood. In kindest accents unto her she spake : " Where is thy mother, little one," she said, " That thou art now so full of bitter grief? I thought the darkest hour all had fled, [relief." Since Heaven was pleased to bring such kind ** O lady," said the more than little child, For she had mind too powerful for her years ; " My mother dear has grown so strangely wild. That she will die — my heart is filled with fears. ONE OF life's mysteries. 55 " First when you left us for a while she seemed ' So happy that together we might rest ; Such a soft pleasure in her dark eyes beamed, I thought I was on earth the child most blest " See what nicQ robes her gentle hands have m^de From that which you so kindly sent for me ; Then, too, in the dark hours I'm not afraid, When with my darling mother I may be ! " But, O ! how ill she was through the long night, Talking so strangely wild, I know not why ; I longed to see the morn bring in the light, Lest I alone should see my mother die. " tell me, madam— tell me if you know What is it always makes her seem so sad j Tell me, I pray, before I homeward go, If I a living father ever had ? " For surely to my childish brain it seems, That some strange mystery hovers o'er our way, Which haunts my mother's waking, sleeping dreams, For often-r— O how oft ! — I've heard her pray — ' i H H»l!lj!ll i ! ii !ii 56 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, ** That ere her life — her wretched life^should end, And she be carried to a grave unknown, Some token of remembrance he might send. Nor leave his child,, their loved, on earth alone. " Is this my father ? How I hate the name ! And feel that I could crush him to the earth. Because he brought to us this grief and shame — Giving me only sorrow since my birth. " And yet she asked me in a frenzied tone. When I stood by and thought to ease her pain. Thinking she soon would leave me all alone. To seek my father and with him remain. " I could not promise, for my heart grew stone, . But left her there to come and look for you ; Could you but see how her eyes always shone When reading tAt's — what 'tis I never knew." She said, and from her bosom slily drew A well-worn note in a familiar hand ; " Perhaps it tells of something we can do. Tell me, dear lady, if you understand ?** ONE OF life's mysteries. 57 She pleaded as she saw that pallid cheek, And her eye kindle with a mystic flame ; For all too deep her feelings were to speak, When she beheld a well known honored name. And knew his hand had traced these words of love To her who now in hopeless anguish wept ; She who, in darkest hour, no power could move To speak a name which sacredly she kept Far from the world's cold gaze and withering scorn, Which comes at times when deeds like these are known ; No, in her heart she'd rather nurse the thorn, Than have one stain upon her idol thrown ! Here lay the mystery, struggling for the light, Too long concealed from weary, waiting eyes ; While Justice smiling came to crown the sight. And changeless Love to gain its long lost prize. The wretched one, half waking from a dream. Which sleepless nights had brought her fevered brain. Whispered, " To me these strange unfoldings seem But showing to the world the fearful stain." i' . ii: 58 OUT IN THE STREET; OR, When by her side stood she whose gentle voice Had kindled in her soul hope's smouldering fires, And made the little Laura too rejoice, In her young soul awakening new desires. And now when weary life seemed ebbing fast, And her tired spirit neared the land unseen, Her glistening eye such longing glances cast. As seemed to pierce through future's mystic screen. Like some poor wretch upon a rocky height. Dark frowning o'er the unmeasured depths below, Trembles at Nature's whisperings, howe're slight, While all life's currents seem more fierce to flow. So did she tremble as the echoing voice Of memory brought back the happy past ; Sweet dreams of hours spent with her only choice, Now^ o'er life's fondest hopes a pall w-^^ And words of comfort seemed of avai; Though coming from the only Inend Fhe knew; They were to her as things too weak, too frail, While still her fevered fancy restlessly flew. ■*'ii|i^!i ONE OF life's mysteries. 59 moments dire ! when in the troubled soul Years meet and mingle all their joy and grief, And merciless life's surges o'er us roll, While death alone doth harbinger relief. At length her friend gave utterance to a name, More dear to her than life or all beside ; Too sacred to be uttered, lest some stain Should cling to him who called her once his bride. As when the lightning flash illumes the sky — When pent up nature rends the clouds apart — So was the flash of her dark piercing eye. When, shuddering all her nature seemed to start. " Be calm," whispered her friend, " I long have known That name, at which thou strangely startlest now j In thousand generous a<5ts his soul is shown — Why should its mention make thy spirit bow ? " Rest — rest thee for the passing hour, while I Go forth into the street on duty's call ; Soon I'll return, then thou mayest tell me why Thou hidest the name of him who caused thy fall. - ■');! : in] m% I ■ I 60 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, " The little Laura be thy kindly nurse, Her gentle hand shall soothe thy throbbing brow ; Heaven may in mercy take away the curse, The nameless stain that marks her young life now." Then forth she went to seek the mystic key. That long had locked a troubled spirit in ; She longed to let the spirit prisoner free — She sought to know why came this nameless sia While down through many a busy street she went, Musing how best this mystery to unfold ; To bring relief her soul was all intent To her whose secret yet remained untold. Then up the marble steps with trembling limb. She with a throbbing heart in silence past ; And many she beheld, yet saw not him, As round the room an anxious look she cast But in an ante-room, absorbed in thought, Her urgent missive quickly found him out ; And here she by the messenger was brought. While in her hopeful soul rose many a doubt ONE OF life's mysteries. 6i He l^reeted her with courteous smile and bow, But words no utterance gave to his full heart ; While spirits seemed to whisper to him, "Now, Thy life's dark cloud at length will break apart *' Soul answered soul, and heart beat time with heart, The strong man bowed in bitterness of grief ; No sound might break these pallid lips apart, Till burning tears brought to him some relief. While like the chiselled marble there he stood, The embodied grace of manhood's highest prime ; His noble face, not heartless, cold, or lewd. Spoke something painful ; something like a crime. Or secret sorrow, i ^ome poisoned sting, From which the soul longed vainly to be free ; For which the heedless world no cure might bring — Because it lay too deep for them to see. At length her voice the fearful stillness broke, For woman's soul felt keen this trying hour ; Firmly she said, ** Wilt thou sink 'neath the stroke ? 'Tis thine to aid, say if thou hast the power ?" ill I lipiiiiii:' iiiiiii' 62 OUT IN THE street; OR, In deeply^smothered accents then he said, * " But tell me that she lives, and all is well ; I cannot live to hear my love is dead — Tell me not this is only frenzy's spell, " Tell me she lives, even though from reason's throne? , Through the foul deed I sought in vain to hide, The ruling angel seemeth to have flown, And aimless she is wafted on life's tide. " The voice of love can waken reason's power. When mine shall catch her waiting, listening ear, 'Twill sway the sceptre in her queenly tower — O tell me that the blissful hour is near 1" " She lives and loves thee still," was the reply, " She needs some fostering care to shield l#r now; Tell me, I pray, why she was called to fly. And thus beneath misfortune low to bow ?" " O God !'' he groaned, " Thou only knowest why — Not mortal man may judge the human heart*— Thou knowest how for her I fain would die — Thou knowest in life's joys I take no part ! ) "I'll tell thee all. Condemn me if thou \WU, Since thou has brought me news of her I love ; Long have I mourned in secret for my guilt, Yet nought from me her image can remove. " In early life my father made me wed One who from childhood's morning I had known ; To whom my heart seemed always as if dead, Though chiselled beauty o'er her features shone. " Companionless we lived from day to day, Nor felt the joys of love's enchanting power ; Honor forbade the secret to betray. While deeper sunk the pang each passing hour. " Then in the world's gay whirl we sought to find An antidote for this most cruel ill ; They failed to satisfy the craving mind, Pure love alone those sacred depths may fill. " I knew not that I sinned when her I wed, And fondly hoped that love with years might grow; But found, alas ! that bitterness instead Through every wave of life was doomed to flow. ^..,, 'r iiifiill''!' ;l|V', r Ifflf;, iillllil:! ill - iiii l!!liiiiiS " Then m^ soul thirsted for a love unknown, While dark and darker grew our married night ; When through this dreadful gloom young Laura shone Upon my path a ray of heavenly light. " She in her loveliness inspired my soul With feelings I had never known before ; No power had I the passion to control, And love triumphant asked for nothing more. " Across her trusting soul no doubt e'er came, To damp the ardor of a love most pure ; She nothing knew of her whose legal claim Made her young joyous life so insecure. " And /, fool that I was, to think my schemes Of love and hate might secret still remain. Fancied my wealth might nurse those happy dreams, And shield her whom I loved from the foul stain. " I wist not hov, ^alse friendship's envious eye Had watched me as I daily went and came ; Else I had caused her far away to fly, Nor heard A^r, guiltless^ branded with my shame. L ] f- ONE OF life's mysteries. 65 " O life ! O love ! canst thou conceive," he sighed, '^ A feeling all absorbing, all complete, Which leaves no ?oom for anything beside, When kindred souls with kindred spirits meet " Such was my love ft>r her J whose daily life For happiness seemed resting on my own ; With her blest presence all my soul was rife, For her, and ours, I lived and loved alone. " Calmly our lives swept down life's happy tide, When to my Laura's house unbidden came She whom my father made me call my bride; How her wild anger rose to furious flame, " When she beheld our child, so like her own; fearful moments ! they flew quickly by ; I brooked the storm to find my Laura flown, And feel for very guilt that I must die. " But death came not to me with kind release, 1 mourned my sin, I prayed to be forgiven ; I sighed to find even but one hour's peace, That sometimes comes when life's last tie is riven. fj,' IH •< ' rilllliiilVi ,! I" 66 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, " This came not to me even in my sleep, For there her vision would before me stand ; In bitterness of soul I'd see her weep, To think the world so cruelly would brand , " Her and her child with crime they never knew, While yet untarnished I might proudly stand ; I, who betrayed her young heart, trusting true, I, who alone should bear this cruel brand. " What if high Heaven, with avenging hand. Would right the wrongs the guiltless here endure ) Make the betrayer for his guilt to stand. And let the innoqent appear as pure | " How low would bow these towering heads of pride, Which glory in their nameless crimes concealed ? Placed by their wretched vidlims, side by side, What blushing fadls would be to earth revealed !" He said, and for a while seemed lost to all. Save the deep feeling of his troubled soul ; While memory true the past would thus recall. He groaned, then whispered, " Thou shalt hear the whole. ■''.i " Thus weary days and nights successive ran, Nor had they measured more than half a year, Till life had measured its uncertain span, And my wife dying, lonely left me here. " Our child still lived, and with a father^s care, I saw her mind unfolding like a flower; And longed that she my lonely lot might share — But ah ! she drooped and died in childhood's hour. " Then how I wished to wipe away the stain From her I loved with an undying zeal ; To fold her to my aching heart again. And her crushed spirit by affedlion heal. " But all in vain I sought my love to fmd. From me she vanished in a sombre cloud ; But still was ever present in my mind ; In spirit oft I saw her lowly bowed — "Before the cold world's cruel hate and scorn, To shield her child from its unsparing blast ; And then again how pierced my soul the thorn. That I my loved ones helpless thus had cast r m 68 OUT IN THE STREET ; OR, " Such is my tale, and O if thou hast found Her whom I long have mourned as lost or dead, Her drooping spirits shall with hope rebound When I may tell her how my heart has bled, " For all the wrongs she suffered through my sin — O! may a life's devotion yet atone, When in my soul's deep love I'll shut her in From every grief, and live for her alone. " Alone ! ah, no ! Our child this love must share — liives she not still ? O God that thou shouldst hold Her life, that she might know a father's care. And all Thy depths of mercy yet be told ! " But why thus linger, for I long to know Where my love dwells ? O let us hasten now ; With thankfulness my soul shall overflow. In penitence my spirit humbly bow ?" There is a time when the full soul oppressed Seeks vainly to express its smothered grief, And guilt remains as guilt, although confessed, Nor from its weight the heart can find relieC ONE OF life's mysteries. 69 Such was his portion. Pity him who may — Let guitless hands the stones in vengeance cast ; He yielded to temptation — went astray — Leave him with Hemvcn io judge — the sin is past Onward the carriage bore them to the place Where injured love lay moaning in her pain ; Health's rose had faded long since from her face — She prayed that death might wipe away the stain. Then wildest fancies would light up her eyes, And she would stare with such a wild unrest, That little Laura looked in mute surprise, Nor might she know the pang that smote her breast As reason tottered, trembling ere it fell From its proud eminence, the human mind. Words were too weak such agony to tell. While fleeting visions left all else behind. There is a power in the world of mind Which never can be robed in language here, When kindred spirits drawing spirits find That though unseen a kindred soul draws near. ■'% m' ....Jiiiilir lil.^ 'liiu r ' At length the carriage halted in a street, Where such is seldom seen save with a pall ; Where poverty and crime together meet, And wretchedness ui\named enshroudeth all. There, in a lowly dwelling, he beheld Her whose fresh beauty once entranced his soul ; With self reproach and grief his bosom swelled, Scarce had he power the tempest to control. * His child, her mother's minature, he knew, While she, attracted by his soul lit face. Unbidden to his arms instindlive flew. And long was folded in his close embrace. Then to the sick one^s couch he meekly went, And took in his the hand she once had given ; But, ah ! her o'erwrought spirit sought its vent. And trembling rested between earth and heaven. In agony of woe he grasped her form, And closely pressed her to his aching breast ; While fiercely in his bosom beat the storm, He prayed, ** Hotya, O God! take her to rest !" Moments of dread suspense brought back her soul, Then trembling on the. verge of life she lay ; Hope's feeble star then struggled for control, Chasing disponding shadows far away. And her dark eyes with a strange lustre shone, As she beheld him standing by her side ; " Clarence, in life I've loved but thee alone, Is it a dream that I was not thy bride ?" She faintly whispered, as the tears fell fast, From their full fountain down his noble face, " say was it a dream, and is it past — And will it leave upon our lives no trace ?" »* Mine only was the guilt — the sin !" he cried, " Forgive my wrong, as heaven has me forgiven ; This hour thou shalt be made my lawful bride By death alone our union shall be riven 1" And she who shone a star in the dark night Of deepest gloom to woman's spirit known, Now seemed to them a ray of holiest light That o'er the path of mortals ever shone. For she had found poor Laura in distress. And kindly whispered words of hope and cheer; ^m V And sought her weary, happiless life to bless. ' Yet dared not hope deliverance was so near. And she was witness to the solemn rite That bound them each to each for mortal life ; While little Laura, wondering at the sight, Felt her young heart with joys unuttered rife. When forth they went to mingle with the crowd That surge upon the waves of human life ; Where innocence so oft is lowly bowed. And guilt, with power, and pride, and hate is rife. And such is life which every day we meet. In this our world, so strangely mixed with sin ; Not only on the author's fancy's page, But deeply written many hearts within. We leave them, not as fancy paintings rest. On gossamer webs that dreamy souls may weave ; We leave them, living souls, by union blest, Rejoiced that she has found a blest reprieve. Where proud Niagara wakes the sleeping dells, And scatters rainbow hues on all around. While with deep sounds her ample bosom swells, We leave them, blest that each their love has found. THE WARRIOR'S BRIDE. A TALE OF NEW ENGLAND IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. She stood beside her warrior brave, Chief of the Narragansett tribe ; Her soft blue eyes looked wistfully Into the dark, yet brilliant windows of his soul ; While proudly he upraised himself and said — " Woman, fear not ; but speak the truth, And tell thy warrior if, in thy night dreams. When the pale moon lights up the forest nooks. And the Great Spirit whispers to his own Loved children of the woods, — Seest thou not then some vision of thy race ! Those pale faced children of the rhing sun — Who came, unsent for, to the ' red man's ' home, To steal his fair, rich hunting grounds ? Narramattah, speak, and tell me what thy thoughts. When soft winds whisper through the mighty trees. Dost thou not then behold a gentle form That beacons thee, and says — 'Come, lost one, let me once again Fold thee, loved child, close to my aching heart ? ' " m\ lil IM: With timid air, and wondering look, she said — " Chief, Lravest and noblest of thy mighty race, I am thy wife ; nor know I what the meaning of thy words ; To me, thou art the first and last of all I seek ; Then vvhat care I for dreams or visions, That enchant me not ? " " But, seest thou not at times thy earliest years. When at the white man's board thou satest down ? When solemn words were said before they aic— And oft to the Great Spirit Spake thy grey haired sire ? '' The warrior said, still gazing on his bride. " Nay, my great chief, I know not what thou sayest ; No other home I know than the great forest. Nor can I ere behold — even in my dreams — The form, or face^ of her who gave me birth." Then silently he motioned her to follow him. And she obeyed — not knowing where she went — With noiseless tread through the dark forest, Slowly he moved on, Until they reached the white man's home, When to his bride of " changing noons" He turned and said— *• Woman, dost thou not here behold it\ !■ THE warrior's BRIDE. 75 11 Those thou hast seen before ? Falls on thine ear no well known voice ? Is here no form thy memory can recall ? Look at those eyes, now gazing softly into thine, And think if thou hast not beheld them in thy dreams." A wild and strange bewilderment possessed her, While she who gave her birth stood motionless, Gazing with fixed intent upon the warrior's bride. Gaily attired with all the trappings of a heathen race. The Narrrgansett stood silent and motionless, As the great forest treer*, When winds forget to blow in summer hours. His noble face, though marked by savage mein, Betrayed deep feelings struggling In his soul. Then turning to the faded form. Which grief had withered more than time, he said — " Daughter of the Great Spirit, hear : I have brought to thee her whom thou long hast mourned. She is the long lost treasure of thy heart, And our Great Manitau hath taught me No longer to conceal withni my tent A pale-faced daughter of the rising sun. " Then silently, as phantom sweeps the fevered brain. He vanished, leaving behind his faithful bride m m 76 THE warrior's bride. With those who long had wept for her as dead. O moments ! what are ye, When pregnant with the events of many years Our souls sink 'neath your weight? The mother's heart, which oft had sunk in doubt, beat quickly now, As she recalled her babe of former years, And then beheld the form that stood before her Now, in the full bloom of womanhood. Close to her throbbing heart she pressed her child, Whispering into her ear words of soft tenderness. " Ruth, my own— my long lost Ruth ! Dost thou not know me yet, dear child ? Whisper to me but once again the name of mother, And my sad heart shall leap for very joy, As in the days long past. When I was wont to hear thy gentle voice Lisping thy evening prayer ! " O daughter of the years gone by ! Speak — speak, and thus relieve me Of this dreadful weight, which even now Seems to press down my soul to deatn's dark gate. ' A smile passed o'er the features of the warrior's bride, While every eye that saw her rested motionless. And each one heard the beating of his heart Words were to her more meaningless than signs, Nor could she comprehend those tones of deep affection Breathed by a mother's fervency into her soul. Yet a faint glimmering light Seemed to pass o'er her mind ; As when into some cave, by Nature formed, A single ray of heaven's own light Steals softly through some crevice In the. o'erhajaging rock : She looked amazed, but yet her eye gave token That her heart found echo for the words she heard. Then with a quiet, timid hand She took the showy girdle from her waist And pbced it round her mother's, With a pride of look that seemed to say — " This is my choicest gift Accept it. If indeed thou art the author of my being." Well pleased she gazed a while in innocence, Then sinking to the floor she pillowed once again Her head upon her mother's lap, Where she was wont in childhood's hour to rest ; And on the solemn stillness of the evening air A voice broke forth in accents sweet and clear — Singing those soothing strains, \» hich oft had hushed her other babes to rest A gentle light seemed stealing Over Ruth's young faa Just as the gray Hght steals At early mom in i'ummer time To lighten up the rocks and dells, Where Nature speaks in mildest accents To her worshippers. The mother s voice to lowest cadence sunk, And then outside a rustling sound was heard, While every eye the entrance sought ; And to the intent surprise of all A messenger appealed, with savage tread. Bearing a burden from the Narragansett chief. Tfce frown of battle rested on his brow, While silently, in presence of them all, He left behind the treasure he had brought. Swift as the untamed bird. Through grating left ^jar by careless hand, Dashes to find its freedom. Did Narramattah bound to claim the burden Which she kdiew so well. And swiftly she returned, bearinpc the treasure of her soul-™ The offspring of her brave, her noble chief. Imploringly she craved from her who gave A^ birth, A parent's blessing on her noble boy. With all the gushing fondness of a mother's hear^ THE warrior's BRIDE. 79 She looked for an impassioned kiss to greet her child, As she upheld him in the glimmering light ; And said, in language learned within the forest shades, " See, 'tis a young Sachem of a noble tribe — A Narragansett But, too soon, alas, The young eaglet has forsook his nest." But ah, how drooped her spirits when she saw Her mother gazing coldly on her first-born son. bitter panjg that stung that mother's heart. As she in smothered accents said : " My daughter's child, but tainted With the stain of heathen blood ! Heaven, must this be ? Then give me grace. And I will drink the cup which thou hast filled, Since thou, O God, hast brought the wanderer back." Shyly the sad young mother shrunk away Into a corner, and in low, plaintive voice Chanted an Indian air, Such as she used to sing in her own tent. # # * « # Thus, v/hile day stole upon day. And night succeeded night. And fervent hearts sent many a prayer to heaven That, the beloved of all might turn and seek The God her fathers worshipped and adored, H ' fBI 8o TH£ warrior's BRIDE. And hope and fear alternate filled each soul, A message came — came from her chief — The warrior whom she loved — and said to her : " Haste, woman, haste, I would again behold our boy." Then faithful, as in the past, to all her chief's commands, She hastened with the guide whom he had sent, And from her home, and loving hearts Unnoticed passed away, to forest depths untrod by her before, And in the deepest silence found her chief Silent they met, and over many forest knolls They hastened on, to where, or why, she knew not This only did she know, She followed in the steps of him she loved. At length he stopped, and swiftly glancing At the all-glorious orb of day, Which shone in cloudless splendor, He measured with his well trained eve How stood the shadows of the forest trees — His fathers' and his own chronometer. Silence still brooded over them. While Narramattah sought to fmd The meaning of all this In the expression er warrior's lace. At length he cast on her a look of fondness. THE WARRIOR'S BRIDE. ^na ten me without fear Hast thou been happ,i„,hy father's lodge?" "Great chief," she said «t Then spake the chief— the murmuring streams. J^ut darkness covers Natnrl n 1 hear Manitau wh per " "°'''"^' < Tf • vviiisper to nie, savino- • "'"■ "" »• •« » i. .hoi . 8 $1 i\ 1 The Great Manitau calls ; and even I, Who once was chief, must go ! I go to join my fathers in the far off land, Where fair rich hunting grounds are their's !" A strange wild terror seized her As she said in mournful tones : " My Sachem taken prisoner? No^ it cannot be! 'Tis the Great Spirit's will that thou shouldst flee, And in my father's home dwell with our boy ; Or, if thou wilt, then let us flee To other forests, where may never come Our cruel foes, who now desire thy life. O my brave chief, if thou must die, Then who shall train our boy ? Who shall sustain him in the weary chase ? Or show him how to point the arrow ? Or upraise the tomahawk to scalp his foes ? Come let US' flee, for thou art swift and light of foot, No arrow can o'ertake thee !" His brow knit darkly, And with withering glance he said — ** Woman, I am a Sachem of my tribe. And know not what it is to fear even death I" Then in stern dignity he rose And pointing to the sun he beckoned That they go with him unto the place of death, THE warrior's BRIDE. 83 Where savage vi6lors waited his approach. And there beneath the fatal tree he stood, And bared a warrior's breast; all calm and motionless, He signed himself prepared to meet his fate. Faithful and true in this most trying hour, His wife sought pardon from- his cruel foes. Pardon availed not now, nor would he yield To accept a favor which he scorned to ask. When thus his sorrowing wife Beheld her last hope fade, Softly and with a timid tread she neared him ; And beheld in his dark fiery eye That thoughts too deep for utterance possessed his soul ; Then holding with outstretched arms her boy. She whispered in deep smothered tones — " Will not a Sachem look upon his son ? And why should not his face be turned To rest in kindness on the woman of his tribe ?'* He took the smiling infant from her arms And gazed in deep affedlion on its face ; Then placing it in the guide's bands he said^ — ' T< Mossomed in the sunshine and would droop i-eneath the gloomy influence of shade. " Then turning to his trembling wife he said — " Flower of the open land, w !■ The Great Manitau calls thy warrior home To hunt among the braves who long before Have gone to fair rich hunting grounds. The Spirit whom thy people worship Calls on thee to go another way : — Obey His will, and if indeed Thy people speak the truth, Then may I hope to hear thee in the spirit land, Call to thy warrior and say— * Our boy is here !' Till then, mother of the young Narragansett chief, Farewell !" One moment more — how full of pain ! And the pulse ceased to beat, the heart to throb ; But the dark eye, now glazed in death, Still spoke of how the Narragansett died ! While his young widow sat there all unmoved. Gazing in silence on the corpse of him she loved — The father of her first-born, only son. The fountain of her tears was dried. While words no utterance found To express the feelings of her too full heart The stroke fell heavily upon the Sachem's bride, And years grew dim — years of her wandering life, And faded from her mind. In fancy she was but a child again. Folded in tenderness unto her mother's breast; ■'^^i m THE warrior's BRIDE. 8s Whose image years ot savage life Had long since wiped from memory's faithless page. The anxious mother, who had missed her Ruth, By the mysterious hand of Providence Was led through forest dells, And devious winding ways; Unto the fatal spot where stiffening in his gore, The noble warrior lay. One glance into his still wide open eye Told her that this was he,who long, long years before Had proved so treacherous. And stole away her dear and much loved child, Leaving them to endure the dread suspense Which years of her uncertain fate had brought. Yes, he it was who late had brought That treasure back to loving arms ; And who, when doomed to die, Had summoned her most secretly To be with him in his last hours of life. Eager she looked around And saw the savage warriors stand As sentinels of Time, awe stricken to behold Their captive and his timid, pale-faced bride ; And 'neath the shadow of a mighty oak, Sitting all motionless as marble, she beheld her child. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 lii 11^ III" - IIIIM 2.2 • IIIIM ■ m zo "'-'- 1.8 14 111.6 Va ^ M. //. ^M 0^ O 7 //a ''W 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation # ^<^ ^^ .V •1>' #v \ \ vA ^>C 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 Q^ i/ji ^ 86 THE warrior's BRIDE. In agony of grief she clasped her in a fond embrace, And as her pale lips moved she stooped to hear What memory had brought back to her. It brought to her, on gentle wings, The far off past, when holy words Fell in soft accents from a mother's lips. " Mother," she said, " Sing for me once again that strain. That heavenly song, that tells us of a home Where no rude savage bands may come To mar our pleasures or disturb our rest ! Sing sweetly, mother. Dost thou hear ?^ ' An angel tells me I must hasten home. Soon wilt thou follow,, and thy brow Shall then be free from sadness. Which betrays the grief that mortals here endure ! " Fare thee well, mother, I must go ; Heaven's gates are open wide ; I see within my Saviour stand.. And all the ransomed host Before Him- cast their crowns 1"' And thus she sunk to sleep — to death, In the full pride and bloom of womanhood: The long lost prize— "The Wept af Wish Ton Wish /" MORNING. Hail, glorious morn ! Thy beams I hail with joy, My soul is filled with rapture when I see How thou dost fondle Nature as a toy. And bid her from night's gloomy chain? be free. Up from the East thou comest as a bride, All radient with thy train of golden light ; While every rippling wavelet on the tide Sparkles in glowing beauty at the sight ! Night's raven tresses, shaken from heaven's brow, Give place to iby i -splendent crown of day ; While Nature's chilart^n all in homage bow. And to thy great Creator humbly pray. Even silent Nature waits to welcome thee, With dewy tear-drops glistening in her eyes ; While fragrant flowers, opening fresh and free, Send up their choicest incense to. the skies. With thee ascend to heaven's azure dome Myraids of voices from the sylvan choirs, Who grasp new beauties in their woodland home, From thy blest presence and thy brilliant fires. The lowing herds go forth to graze the plains. And snowy flocks haste from their quiet folds ; While thy soft light the savage beast restrains, And fiercest passion in subje6tion holds.. 1: ■- ipiii:' illiLd ly Man ! the proud climax of creative power, Wakes he to join the universal song? To whom all earth was given as his dower. To whom, by right, all meaner things belong. Yes, he will wake the chorus echoing wide, From pole to pole, on East and Western shore ; A song of praise shall greet fair Nature's bride, While man insatiate grasps for hidden lore ? LINES SUGGESTED ON LOOKING AT A PHOTAGRAPH. I d Once again I've gazed in fondness On thy fair and noble brow, Wishing in my soul's deep fullness Thou wert present with me now ; Life methinks would be more joyous Could we share each other's bliss, And thus lengthen weary burdens. Met with in a world like this ; But this portion is not given, Distance wide must part us still. Then with true and Christian patience Let us bide our Maker's will LINES. 89 Let us kiss the rod that smites us, Though it crush us to the dust ; Ever still heaven's will abiding, Let us put in God our trust ; And though time and tide may part us We can hold communion sweet, Kindred spirits can't be severed, We are one though ne'er we meet Yes, the same fond, gentle promptings Moves me oft to think of thee. When I know and feel that thou art Thinking, dearest, then of me ; And the mystic cord is drawing Two fond spirits ipto one, But, alas ! we wake, and waking, Find the pleasing vision gone ! THE PRAIRIES OF THE WEST. There's grandeur in the ocean When the tempest rages high. When the mountain billows rising Seem to touch the lowering sky ; When the " Stormy King" has gathered All his forces to the fray, And man's feeble strength exhausted To his power must yield the day. "11!;:' K.£i l< li M " , ii There is beauty in the forests Which Nature's hand hath sown ; She has marked them by her cycles, As the centuries have flown ; Their heavenward pointing branches Lead our souls to things above, While soft zephyrs murmuring through them, Whisper to us — " God is love I" But the richest pages Nature Ever opened to the view, 'Neath a storm-beclouded heaver, Or a sky of spangled blue ; — Are the prairies — those green oceans, Where on Mother Nature's breast, Untold generations slumber, With no sound to break their rest ! The grass waves green above them, In the breath of early Springs ; And wild flowers deck those mounds which seem The resting place of Kings ; Who with their fallen heroes rest, The warriors of that time, When to conquer in the battle Was o gain the true sublime. When the Orient sky is lighting up THE PRAIRIES OF THE WEST. 91 The welcome morn of Spring, Then echoing from knoll to knoll What deep-toned musics ring ? As if the drum of battle* Sounded o*er the hills once more, Calling forth the sleeping warriors From the far off hidden shore ! i *The peculiar sound made by the prairie fowl in the Spring re-; sounds through the distant mounds like the roll of ittilitary music. THE BELLE OF FASHION Gaily decked with gems and jewels, Who as she so fresh and fail ? Skin so white and lips so ruby ; Gold lies glittering in her hair I Lily hands, so soft and tapering, Diamonds proudly can display ; Brilliants varied clustering round her Turn the darkest night to day. Robes of costly web are floating Round her graceful fi^re, while Senseless, brainless fops are waiting, Sighing for one gracioqa smile. Days of weariness are passing, I ■«r ]':'■■■< M 92 THE BELLE OF FASHION Hurrying onward nights of toU ; When the moments sweetly flying Fan the pride of fashion's toy. But how heartless is the creature, And how aimless all her days ; Sacrificed to fleeting fashion, Just to gain the cold world's praise ! REFLECTIONS IN THE GRAVEYARD OF THE URSULINE CONVENT, AT EAST MORRISANIA, N.Y. Not far removed from out the noise and stir Of that greatest of cities of the Western world ; Where we behold her countless throngs Pressing and hurrying on To grasp some cherished phantom. Ere it pass forever I Where " God's first temples stood" not long ago. In all their primal majesty and greatness ; Swaying their lofty branches to each breeze That wafted sacred stillness on its wings— A hymn of praise to silent Nature's God ! Here on a gentle eminence. Above the lower walks of common life, REFLECTIONS IN A GRAVEYARD. 93 1 Rises a strudlure, sacred held By those who dwell within its precindls. Dead stillness reigns, And holy calm and quiet seem Triumphantly to crown fair Nature's brow — If Nature ever speaks within those grounds, Save in the eloquence of silence, It must be to whisper in her softest accents. A spacious mansion rises heavenward to the view. Its windows, tier above tier. Present no outward show of costliness of structure ; But, Like the entire edifice, Speaks volumes of the inmates : Speaks of the many hearts that rest within its walls, Cut loose from every kindred tie That bound them to the world outside. Each knows her tale of secret sadness, Nor would I willingly uplift the vail To ask — Why leave the gay and beauteous world outside To yield the service of all time to the Invisible? Rest, rest, ye inmates, quietly shut in From all the guilt and sorrow of the outer world ; Glide down life's stream. Unshaken by the tempest that destroys 94 REFLECTIONS IN A GRAVEYARD. Earth's fairest, loveliest flowers, Who bloom, alas ! too soon to fade ! Eleven suns have woke the genial Spring Since sacred rite has marked the lovely spot Where each recluse — This phantom life being o'er — Hopes yet to sleep, her last long sleep of death : The spirit soaring to the farther shore — The body turning to its dust again — Our lot — ^when Nature calls to yield the final breath 1 I stood in silent wondef. And beheld the sod unbroken by a single grave ; No lettered stone arose to tell the tale — Here lies the young and beautiful, beloved of all ! Nor middled aged, nor those more full of years. Had yet been summoned by the solemn call — In death's cold flood the trembling soul to lave ! I 1 Within that lapse of time all round had fallen — The rich, the poor, the young, the old — And those just mounting to the prime of life I But here no link had broken in the chain — ' No loved one gathered with those gone before, To bloom in fadeless youth. Upon the immortal shore. i866. HOUR& 95 HOURS. They are precious gifts from Heaven, Treasures here to mortals lent ; Seedlings of a future harvest, If they are but wisely spent Waste them not, nor idly squander. Life is but a drop at most. From the deep, unfathomed ocean Of old Time, with rock-bound coast. Some frail barks glide smoothly, gaily, O'er its dark and turbid face ;, Gloomy care, or bitter sorrow,. Leaves with them no painful trace; All is bright, and free, and happy. Pleasures bear them swiftly on,. One new joy succeeds another. Ere the first rich boon is gone. Others sigh o*er blighted prospedls. Vanquished hopes of bygone years. When to them life seemed unclouded, When to them unknown were, fears.. Others, reckless of the breakers Rising on Time's changing sea,. '<^.- L. Onward dasb — impetuous creatures, Longing from life's bound to fiee. Hours made up of unit seconds Form the lives of all below ; A6ting wisely, ceaseless shall they To a peaceful ending flow. Not absorbed in self, or living Wholly for ourselves, while here, Should the hours be spent ; but blessing All that come within our sphere. A LEAF FROM REAL LIFE. A young, talented and beautiful lady was induced by a young friend to leave home, and travel without escort across the Atlantic, under the promise that he would meet her in New York, and there consummate a marriafl^e to which they were mutually pledged, but which was opposed by her parents. She left England and arrived in the New World, almost without means ; true to promise, he met her, but only to crush her with a proposition for her dishonor. She at once indignantly repelled him, and in her desperation sought an interview with the manager of a dramatic temple— kept her 8ecret,but operated upon his better feelings to give her a trial. Her success was brilliant. In the hour of her triumph her betrayer again sought her, an humble suitor, to accept his honorabU love. In true womanly dignity she forbade him ever to approach her again. She passed some years on her road to fortune and continually increasing fame, until she found a watery grave on the ill-fated "Evening Star." Trouble her not, the sleeper fair, Let the soft winds play in her shining hair ; What though the angry billows foam, And threaten to make their depths her home? Danger she fears not, her soul is at rest, Even though it be verging the land of the blest. Closed are those, eyes of the azure hue. Her young heart's beatings are pure and true ; In her dreams she*s again o'er the deep blue sea. In the land of the brave and the home of the free — In the land on whose borders the sun ever shines. Where her grandsires worshipped on holy shrine -, And years of pleasure she too there knew. When life, in its morning, spoke hearts all true. « Again she is back in her youth and her pride. With "love's dream," first and brightest, close to her side; The farewell is spoken, the last look is given, Earth's love cords are sundered, the holy tie riven ; He is off to the land ever free unto all. To respond to wealth, honor or fame, as they call ; Where the eagle's proud beak from the South Gulf has sipped; And in each boundless ocean her pinions has dipped. Still sweetly she sleeps, living over again Days of hope and of longing, and nights full of pain. it 98 A LEAF FRODt REAL LIFE. At length comes the missive that calls her to leave All else life holds dearest, his name to receive. All true in afFeflion, the perils of the deep She braves, while the sorrowing, parted ones weep ; No danger deters her, no fears can restrain, One thought fills her bosom — to see him again ! (O woman ! how constaoit,, how pure is thy love I Deceived not, 'tis changeless as heaven above.) All gladness and glory, morn breaks on the earth. Yet within her young heart mystic fears have found birth j She sighed, " Soon my anguish like this will be o'er. Though with him I'm alone on this far distant shore; Foi his love I've relinquished all other's in life, Then why should my heart with forebodings be rife ? Henceforth what is left me of trial or care, I'll have one to protect and life's burdens to share — One whose strong arm shall ere be my stay, Prote6ting from evil by night and by day." Thus musing she turned when her eye met his gaze, It spoke not to her as in happier days — Lust, bases: emotion the heart can conceive, Filled his eye, while his words seemed to mock, to deceive. A LEAF FROM REAL LIFE. 99 Fain would this betrayer another have lain On the altar where thousands are cruelly slain ; But trusting for succor and strength from on high, The heartless deceiver she had power to defy. With feelings that only pure injured love knows, She whispered in tones that his base nature froze : " Go, false one ! I leave thee, though stranger I roam, Away from my kindred, my dear native home ; I swerve not from virtue, nor purity turn, Thyself and thine offer alike do I spurn ! Nor agam shall I see thee, our loves are all past — With thy name in oblivion's depths they'll be cast ; Thy own heart shall smite for the wrong thou hast done, And repentant thou'lt come when my talent has won A fame thou wilt envy, but never must share. As my name it shall ever be spotless and fair !" Months of weary, weary waiting Came and went, and came again. Till the shadows fading often, Hope CQuld scare her soul sustain ; But at length the morning lighted. As the morning ever must, Unto those who, strong in virtue, Place in heaven their hope and trust ; ^Wn Fame, with opening flowers, a garland Wove to deck her noble brow, While approving houses echoing Told how she was welcomed now ! And, though years of fame were given. Fortune smiled and all was bright, Still her onward path pursuing, She was ever in the right. Then when fame had won her plaudits, Suing for her hand he came ; But in coldest scorn she answered " Thou canst never have a claim ! Base and heartless I have proved thee, *Tis but folly now to try ; Once it was thy will to crush me— Now /triumph ! — Traitor fly /" Say not " Sister, I was driven, I have fallen and sue for aid !" Think of her who braved misfortune. Let your faith in heaven be stayed Let the world be purer, better, That a part was lent to you ; Hearken not to serpent voices, To yourselves and heaven be true 1 A FRAGMENT. ' There's music in the song of birds. As light they hop from tree to tree ; There's music in the whispering winds, As on they float so fresh and free ; There's music in the merry laugh That comes from out the nursery door ; There's music as the wild waves dash Upon the rock-bound barren shore ! There's music in the catara6l, Still echoing since the dawn of time, And when the fierce wild tempest rage, Their music reaches the sublime ; But Nature's sweetest, purest sounds Are heard when cultured minds control Harmonious strains and trilling chords. And into music pour the soul. Bf k AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO W. A, LEONARD AND WIFE, ON THE DEATH OF THEIR INFANT SON. Weep not that such a floweret fair Is taken to a holier clime. Nor wish him back again to share The ills and cares of weary time ; w It II I'll r-;!! 102 LINES. His noble brow spoke of a soul Which in the lapse of years might shine; When eloquence would wield control, Her votaries gathering round her shrine. Perchance this might his lot have been — A blessing to our fallen race ; The future to us. all unseen, Is left for fancy's pen to trace. A Father, who is wiser far Than erring mortals here may know, But lent a while this beaming star, The upward heavenly way to show. And in His own appointed hour, He placed it near His throne above, . To bloom in heaven's immortal bower, Where all is purity and love ; Yet one by one, as life's dark day Shall close, we all to Him may go ; Rejoicing as we pass away To dwell where living waters flow I Zines suggested on seeing two Httie girls crossing Broad- way^ at Union Square^ ^ew York City, They were each clasping the other round the waist^ and singing as they went, " ^ust Be/ore the Battle, Mother /" CaJ and still, the moon's pale light Fell on the city's busy throng, Yet 'mid the din of noise and strife I heard a voice break forth in song ; And looking round two little ones I saw entwine each other's waist With loving arms, in fond embrace, As on they sped with eager haste. Two sisters, whom the hand or Fate Had marked to walk life's humble way. Whose earliest dawn had been obscured, And dark appeared their future day ; Yet poverty's oppressive hand Had failed to crush the glowing fire Of Hope, which kindled in the breast, Will purer, holier joys inspire ! Perchance a brother's dying words Come o'er them with resistless power. And would fmd utterance in speech, Though strange the place, and strange the hour. Then chide them not, ye who have lost No friend, no kindred in the strife; Whose life stream ripples smoothly on, Whose cup of happiness is rife. They, in the vale of poverty. Dwelt happy in each other's love ; K B|i)|nwWi-^ 104 A SOLILOQUY. No mother to prote<5l from ill ; No father, but the One above ! I lost them in the mingling throng, Where life is met in each extreme ; Yet rests the pidture on my heart. As would a painful, pleasing dream. 4 SOLILOQUY. Why should we dread to enter in The world unknown, the land of shade ? . He who was pure and free from sin Once in the silent tomb was laid. We know there is a hand Divine, Which marks the way we there shall tread ; Whose light shall ever on us shine. Though we are numbered with the dead. His realms extend through time and space. All things created show His power ; We have but just begun our race. When ended is life's fleeting hour ! When to a land as yet untried We hasten, more of joys to know ; Still underneath His love abide, TOUCH NOT, TASTE KOT, HANDLE NOT. 105 And bask where endless plasures flow. As onward, onward still we move, To find creation has no bound ; For as the highest fancy's rove, So far, so high, His works are found. " TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT, HANDLE NOT!" Dash from thy lips that draught of liquid fire, 'Tis poison to the soul — death lies concealed ! Aspire to something nobler, something higher, Lest foul Intemperance over thee may wield His tyrant sceptre, and thou sink a slave, Beyond the power of human hand to save I Lift not the cup ! — The taste may fatal prove. And lure thee downward to the halls of death ; Where demons in the fevered fancy rove. With fiery eyes, and noxious, burning breath ! Their captivse leading on through horrid gloom, More fearful than the silence of the tomb ! Ambition's noblest sons are captured there, And wealth and talent bow to that fell shrine ; • Then turn away, nor seek their doom to share, Where Hope's soft, gentle star may never shine ; w 1 06 TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT, HANDLE NOT. But cast away in scorn the maddening bowl, Fearful lest it should o*er thee gain control. See there a mother's joy, a father's pride, Companion of a sister young and fair. Who promised through life's storms their way to guide And to protect with love's unceasing care ; But ah I he tasted, and in tasting fell. And now he's shrouded in that fearful spelL Could mother's tears wash the foul stain away ; Or could a father's prayers lift up his son. The fount of tears would open night and day, And prayers continue, now in faith begun; But these can never raise the fallen up. Or turn him from the soul destroying cup. 'Tis thine, O youth, to raise the fallen up, And to society the loss restore. By turning from the intoxicating cup ; Pledging thyself to never taste it more. Thus showing to the erring ones the road. Where they may walk to shun that dark abode. Lift up the brother, whisper words of cheer ; . Point to a life of honor, and of fame ; With due respedt, and with a mingled fear. Approach the aged, seeking to reclaim. And give again to household love their lost, Who on intemperance shoals have long been tossed. Each day — with zeal renewed, with love inspired — Go forth into the conflidt, bold and brave ; Nor in the glorious work faint or grow tired, But seek from death thy fellow men to save, And grateful hearts shall bless thy honored name, Because thou hast sought the erring to reclaim. Pass not from earth, leaving no trace behind. To say that thou once had existence here, — To say that thou wast creature blest with mind, And lived and adled in a noble sphere ; But bless thy fellow men where e're thy lot. And say to all ** Touch, taste, and handle not." TO MRS. E. H., Of Madison^N. y.,who has been entirely dea/Jhtough the effe^s of Scarlet Fever, since she was eight years old' I met thee, stranger, Where the angel friendship dwells, And revels in the halls of generous hearts ; With pleasure I beheld thy sparkling eye Beam with a lustre, kindled alone where Souls of superior power Find tenements a while on earth. Alas, that the mysterious stroke Fell heavily on thee ; And from thy childhood's hours Shut out the music of the external world ; To thee, all sound alike — The mighty cataract's deep voice. And thunder's crashing roar, When vivid lightenings rend the earth, And scatter fell destruction all around, And the low zephyr's moan That softly steals through the rich foliage Of the weeping tree That marks the grave of long, long buried love. The wise have said " However dark the cloud Seen in life's changeful heaven, A silver lining tinsels it beneath ; " And often times it breaks — and through the chasm Appears a shining star, before unseen, unknown. Perchance it has been thus with thee ; And through the silent cloud Has shone a star refulgent in its beauty, From the inner soul, which holds Communion with the All wise, Within the solemn courts of sacred stillness. The tender bud, nipped from the parent stem, TO MRS E. H. 109 Leaves its own strength To nourish, and mature the other flowers. Think thou — *Twas thus with me ; One sense was taken That more keenly others might awaken, And expand — to grasp fond Nature In her loftiest forms. Better, indeed, to be shut in from all The noise and tumult of the outer world. Than to lift up to heaven's azure dome, Sad, sightless eyes. And see not there how worlds on worlds in space," Move on in glorious harmony ; Or not to look on earth and see How tliousand charms are strewn on every hand, In all the beauteous forms of loveliness That fancy can conceive. Then murmur not, but hope ' That in the years to come The silent past may but a chaos seem : And that advancing science, under Heaven, May give again unto thy waiting soul That which for a season was withheld. Thy faith to try. Hope on ! Yet if indeed it be withheld Until the deep, dark tide of death thou passest o'er. I'i"^'1'' I h- m ' ' '\' .'' IIO RAIN DROPS. The music of the heavenly spheres shall break On thy blest spirit, with sublimer power, Upon the immortal shore ; Where sight, and ;50und, and every sense Shall waken to new life, To be by sickness stricken never more. RAIN DROPS. Sparkling as bright crystal treasures; See the rain drops as they fall ; One by one, they softly whisper — ** We are sent alike to all : We have left those purer regions, Where no thought of ill is known, To refresh the earth with moisture. Where the fruitful seed is sown. "Yet not this alone our mission, Gentleness of life we show, How the High, Supreme, Omnicient, Lets His choicest blessings flow ; And that mortals, frail and erring. Should their wayward wills control ; Crushing pride, and self, and folly. Lose themselves in the Grand Whole I" THE GULD SEEKER'S FAREWELL. I go, I go I Farewell to all ; My friends, my home, adieu ! Ambition's fires illume my soul, And mark my course anew. Bright glory beckons me away To yonder golden clime ; Wealth wreaths her laurels for my brow, I bow before her shrine I O mother dear, don't weep for me, I will again return ; My father, be her staff, her stay, Nor for thy absent mourn I For, brothers, sisters, soon again Our circle shall be whole. Once more I'll fill the " vacant chair" — We part, but not in soul ! For still where'er I rest or roam, No other place I'll find, So dear to me as this loved home. No friends so true and kind ! Then dry those tears, let hope renewed Inspire your every thought ; The vidtory I will yet achieve, The battle shall be fought I I ?!.i!:i(,vi • :'ii' TI2 THE LARK. £'«•>-. I'll home return with treasured wealth, For which life's storms I'll brave ; See, yonder gleams the snowy sail, Our bark is on the wave ! Adieu, once more, to each and all Of those I love so well ; My cherished home, my native land, Farewell, farewell, y^r(?ze/^/// THE LARK. She flies o'er the mountain summit. She's up ere the dawn of day ; She fears no trouble or danger As she warbles forth her lay. To Him who rules creation She sings her merry song ; Nor is she weary singing Throughout the summer long. Though clouds and tempests gather To darken the summer sky ; While Nature is yet reposing We hear her notes on high. She lightly soars on her pinions, • FAREWELL TO SUMMER. 113 While scanning the higher air ; And floats through those regions with pleasure, Her bosom is free from care. Yet envy her not, frail mortal. Not long shall her life be given ; But thine may be life immortal, With the ransomed ones in heaven ! 1852 FAREWELL TO SUMMER. Farewell, farewell, ye bright summer hours. With your sunny gleams and refreshing showers ; Ye are hastening on and will soon be past. For ye are too joyous long to last ; Too bright, too gay, for a world like this, Where sorrow embitters life's purest bliss. To leave a stamp on this lower earth, ^ In perfe(5ling that to which Spring gave birth ; The forests ye tinged with a deeper green, And your steps on the verdant plains are seen ; The fields in their yellow garbs are dressed. And the sons of toil with their richness blessed. To deck the glittering halls of mirth, And to mark the spot where the loved of earth ^3»-^ . kiW>.^ ii'^i:'ri;'!r-^.i; 114 TO MISS LOUISA P. Are calmly resting in sweet repose : Ye have given to us the blooming rose, Whose fragrance and beauty all admire, From the prattling child to the aged sire. The tulip and pink are thy children too, And the crimson dahlia and violet blue ; The iris and delphenia came with thee. And the eglantine, that we love to see So gracefully twining o'er shady bowers, To mingle its sweets with the jessmaine flowers. The forest, the city, the mount and dell, Unite in chorus thy charms to tell ; And the trees now laden with summer fruit. To the gladsome strain would attune their lute ; While Nature, all robed in her fullest bloom Is hastening on to her certain doom. Alas ! that thy charms so soon must die ! We would that thy beauties were ever nigh ; That Eden flowers bloomed once again, And earth were free from its foulest stain ; And Summer, bright Summer, were always ours, With a cloudless sky and unfading flowers 1 RESPFCTFULLY INSCRIBED TO MISS LOUISA P. Say, canst thou tell, fair maiden, in thy beauty, TO MISS LOUISA P. "5 Why is thy lot so blest, so free from care ? A mother's heart anticipates thy wishes, And seeks thy every happiness to share. And loving sisters, too, whose kindred spirits Re-echo the fond feelings of thy heart; And brothers dear, whom thou dost trusting cherish— Alas, that one from thee was called to part Yet hope's bright star, with holy radiance glowing, Points to the wished-for day as near at hand. When, anchored safe from all impending dangers, Thy much loved brother shall beside the^ stand* Take then a draught from life's pure cup of pleasure. Drink deeply, lest the vision soon be o'er, And when thy bliss is at its zenith glowing. Think on thy friend, whose day dreams are no more. And breathe a prayer for her whose youthful morning Gave promise fair of happiness as thine. But now from whom hope's precious star is fading, Leaving but one faint ray on love's pure shrine. WHAT IS IT? What is that makes the prattling child Look up with an eagerness strange and wild. As you whisper of treasures, before unseen, L I ! w Coming down when the earth is all covered with sheen, And Santa Claus spatters his gifts so free ? 'Tis because he hopes " there are some for me." What is it that makes the schoolboy rude Dive into his t^sks with an earnest mood ? And why does he merrily join in the play In the sultry hour and the wintry day ? To relax his mind and his strength renew, His taa^k to perform, his work to do. What is it inspires the daring -youth. With a courage breastplate, and shield of truth, To leave home and friends that he loves so well, In the stranger's home, with no kin to dwell ? As he launches his bark upon fortune's sea Hope softly whispers, "There's gems'for thee." What is it that tinges the maiden's cheek With a deeper meaning than words can speak, That lights with emotion her sparkling eyes, As with bounding footstep she swiftly files To be tenderly clasped in her lover's arms, Who has vowed to prote<5t her from all life's harms ? What is it that lift's up the mother's soul. As she tenderly treasures with meek control The offspring she lives for, for whom she could die ; Whose unfolding she watches with trembling sigh. Lest they err from virtue, or fall from truth, When they enter the slippery paths of youth ? What is it illumines the brow of age. As death lays claim to the reverend sage ; When he feels his hours approaching a close, That soon he'll be laid to a quiet repose ; As he views in refle6lion a life well spent. With wrongs to his fellows, few to repent ? It is hope, it is hope ! O angel of bliss, That visits in mercy a world like this ; The fairest of all the triune band. She points to the future with gentle hand ; She soothes the mother, counsels the sage, And dwells in the bosom at every age. BURY ME IN THE SEA. Bury me in the deep, deep waters, Bury me in the clear blue sea. Where no willow, moved by a sighing zephyr. Shall sound a requiem over me. Let the waves be my crystal winding sheet. As they gracefully wrap my form ; Let the soft sponge pillow my painless head. While calmly I rest in the wildest storm. : f H' ii8 BURY ME IN THE SEA. Let none in bitterness weep o*er my grave, Recounting my virtues. while life was given ; How sadly sacred the memory is yet Of the hour when the vital cord was rivea No slab of granite, or marble white, May tell to the curious passer by My life's brief history, where I was born. Or mark the spot where my ashes lie. Let no vesper bells at the evening hour Give back their sound through the gloomy vault, Where my coffin is treasured in sacred rite, Where the blindly pious in silence halt For down in the regions of gems and pearls, Where earth's richest treasures lie hidden low, I would rest, unconscious of all around, While peaceful the waters above me flow. What to me though the angry billows rage. And thousands engulf in their bosom deep ? In the pearly courts their is room for all. Their presence cannot disturb my sleep. There, there let me rest when my toils are o'er, And this life has forever ceased to be ; When launched upon the immortal shore. My ransomed spirit shall be set free, To bask in an ocean of boundless love. Siwapnte-y TO 119 While soaring to worlds as yet unknown, When the sorrows of time and the cares of life, Like a passing dream, have forever flown. RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO BIRTHDAY. ON HIS To-day one jewel more is added to thy crown of years, And though I offer not to thee a gift from Opher's mines, Nor present of rare costly beauty, Wrought with magic skill. Thou wilt, I know, with equal grace Accept the sincere wishes of a faithful friend. Breathed as a prayer to Him who record keeps Of all our devious journeyings through this vale of tears. Then hear combined My wish and prayer for thee. May length of happy years be added as rich jewels To thy crown of life. And brilliant shine each gem in spotless purity. As doth the snow-white blossom of the almond. May friends, still faithful as in former years. Bestrew thy way with flowers, And children, with afledtion's purest love, ' Most tenderly thy name enshrine in grateful memory. w I20 THE DEAD SEA. May all the blessings clinging round An honored name and life of usefulness, be thine; And she round whom thy heart's affe6lions twine Be spared to thee by Heaven for long, long years, To bless thee with the fullness of a changeless love, As down life's stream together ye shall glide. May every wavelet on its rippling face Be lighted with a smile of love, Till on the brink of Jordan ye shall stand, And, hand in hand, cross to the farther shore, Where loved ones, who have stemmed its depths before Await to welcome home Each new born soul. THE DEAD SEA. Calmly it rests beneath the noontide ray. No gentle breeze disturbs its glassy face, No rocky rapids cast their foaming spray. No gallant vessel leaves a single trace On the deep waters of the piercing keel, Or snowy foam beneath the ponderous wheel. Slowly its turbid waters move along 'Tween frowning ramparts of the distant hills, And Moab's mounts re-echo not the song Of wild Bedouin, who wanders where he will ; Yet, taught by Nature, here he dares not come To pitch his tent, or claim a transient home. No gems are sought for on its pebbly shore, No pearl diver seeks for treasures rare. Its sandy bottom wandering o'er and o'er, Hoping some unknown treasure soon to share ; None may approach its hidden depths to scan, There, there it lies, a mystery to man. A silent deathly gloom rests over all, Surrounding deserts meet the wondering eye. Nature seems shrouded in a mournful pall, • The prospedl drear calls forth a painful sigh, That earth beneath the curse must thus remain, And bear for centuries this, the foulest stain. No bird of passage skims its troubled wave. To sound a mournful requiem o'er the dead. Or in its depths the weary pinions lave. Or catch the finny wanderers ere they've fled ; For life has vanished from the fatal sea. And left it to endure the stern decree. There sleep proud cities and their busy throng, Hurled from existence by the fiery stroke ; No honors to their memories belong, He passed the sentence, none may dare revoke; l^p .?!' ''•' \i h^ 122 FOR A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. Down, down beneath its sullen waves they rest, While Jordan gently flows into its breast. Through the terrestrial world's expanse is found No monument so mournful of the past ; Philosophers, in knowledge though profound, Find that o'er this a mystic veil is cast. Through which their piercing eyes can never gaze- 'Tis wrapt in mystery's deep, unfathomed maze. FOR A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. I could wish the wealth of oceans Might be wielded by thy hand, I could wish thee highest station In a free, fair, happy land ; That the wealth of fame unbounded Form a diadem for thy brow, And earth's proudest sons in homage At thy shrine to humbly bow. Yet not these, dear friend I'll wish thee, But a portion better still — - The approving smile of Heaven, Grace to do thy Maker's will ; And a friend in truth to love thee, And thine every sorrow sooth. THE HUMAN WILL. 123 Who, with words of loving kindness, Will life's rugged pathway smooth. THE HUMAN WILL. Earth has charms, and fancy painting Bright our future prospedls all. Lure us on till, half unconscious, Down the precipice we fall From hope's proud and lofty summit, Where, on fancy's pinions free, Roved we wide through her dominions, Wrapt in youth's unmingled glee. Plucking from each branch some flowret, Fragrant with a rich perfume. Seeing, not even in the distance, Aught to cast a shade of gloom On the glorious rising future, Where are traced, with magic skill, Foes subdued and fearful conquests, Wrought by wielding human will. Powerful weapon ! all must own it. All confess its mighty sway : Ruling empires, wielding sceptres, Turning nations' night to day. 124 TO MV FATHERv Yet, descending to the lowly, Where life's waters flow so still, Oft we see most dearly written Traces of the human will. TO MY FATHER. ( Written by request of Miss H. L. Z., of Baltimore^ who was about to enter the Ursuline Convent as a Nun.) I do not wish to grieve thee. Although I say farewell ; Thou art not severed from me, My memory yet shall dwell With grateful recollection For all thy kindness shown, When, under thy protection, We two were left alone* But now another duty Seems calling me away; My Saviour in His beauty Says, " Why dost thou delay ? Espouse my cause forever. Give up thy life to me. And I'll forsake thee never, With me thou shalt be free." • '1 A GEM. "5 No earthly charm entices Me from my parent's side, I scorn their strange devices, V\\ be my Saviour's bride. Then, father, weep not for me. Though to the world I die, But softly let me hear from thee, ^^God bless you, chtldy good bye" A GEM. I saw a little floweret Lift. up its gentle head, A soft, green carpet 'neath it. Which Nature's hand had spread ; And pearly dew drops sparkled As diamonds on its brow, While the lowly murmuring zeph'yr In obesiance made it bow. When it bowed, the pearly dew drops Vanished from my wondering gaze, And the tender opening petals Kissed the sun's enlivening rays. Sending forth their richest fragrance To perfume the ambient air. While I breathed a prayer to heaven That, like it, I might be fair. ^f. 126 FALLING LEAVES. All untarnished by pollution, That so darkly stains the earth, In the wretched haunts of sorrow, In the gilded halls of mirth ; That, like it, I might, unconscious, Scatter blessings in my way, Nor sigh for the to-morrow, But be happy with to-day. FALLING LEAVES. Rustling through the groves and forests. In the chilly autumn breeze. Trembling, fading, seered and withered, Drop the leaves from off the trees. One by one the tale they echo. All are subjedl here to change- Bloom in health, and youth and beauty ; But alas, alas, how strange. That, while yet the vision charms us Clouds of dark misfortune rise. To obscure hope's brightly beaming Star of radiance from our skies. Fresh and tender as the leaflet. In spring's genial morning bright. SITTING BY THE HILLSIDE. 127 Are the pleasing dreams of childhood, Mingled with youth's pure delight. Yet as change the forest foliage To the drear and leafless waste, Childhood's joys and youth's aspirings From our grasping vision haste — » To the dark, unknown oblivion. Where alike are buried all ; Highest hopes and deepest sorrows Shrouded in one funeral pall. SITTING BY THE HILLSIDE. New Jersey y Overlooking New York City and Bay, Sitting by the hillside, on a Summer day, What a varied beauty Nature doth display ! Far off in the distance, like a mirror bright, Shines the crystal waters, tinged with golden light. There a white wing sailing, I can just descry, And a steam-pipe sending pillars to the sky ; Which, while they are rising, vanish like a dream. And, as all things earthly, like a phantom seem 1 Ships from many nations hoist their colors gay, Vieing with each other beauty to display ; M WIM 4 128 SITTING BY THE HILLSIDE. ~l!i — — But of all the colors seen on ocean's breast Our own choice of mingling we esteem the best Stripes and stars wave proudly, multiplying still, Grasping frigid regions, bowing to their will Islands of the ocean, ports on every shore, Never giving echo, " We require no more." Musing thus, and gazing round in every way, Next I see a land point piercing deep the bay, Covered thick with foliage of the richest hue, Darkening in the waters heaven's ethereal blue. There I see an island, dotted white and green. Forest trees and shrubbery, houses in between. Where might happy households, from the world shut Fancy, as in Eden, they were free from sin. [in, Every cloud that Nature offers to the view, Has its silver lining and its sombre hue. Looking further downwards, to my wondering gaze. Opens up the city, with its endless maze ; Steeples pointing heavenward, in their lofty flight. As their pastors, showeth erring ones the right ; Massive stru6tures glistening in the sun's bright Like as crystal palace to our vision seems, [beams, But, alas, what toiling, toiling night and day. For the bread that keeps them as they pass away. Poor, dependant mortals ever must endure, Shut within those prisons, commerce to secure. >est still, h ay, e, blue. 2en, een, rorld shut [in, ig gaze, [flight, Ight; 's bright [beams, 1 away, ire. THE SNOW FLAKE. 129 There the belle of fashion, fanned by folly's pride, Gaily passes onward, sometimes as a bride ; And the rich, in splendor lead a life of ease. Every taste they pamper, every wish they please. Thus it is, while sitting on the hillside green, Every phase of Nature in my fancy's seen. THE SNOW FLAKE. see it all purely descend from the skies, As a message from heaven, a token of love. Unspotted, untarnished, while softly it flies To settle with those just come down from above. • See, see, how it trembles ere yet it alight. As if seeking a place where it best might recline ; So modest, so gentle, the rough winds afright. And cold in their bosom the treasure enshrine. Alone, little snow flake, how soon would thy lot Be as Nautilus, driven on the tempest-tossed sea. With no trace left to tell that thou wast, but art not. And no friend in the twilight to weep over thee. But alone, though so frail, yet a terrible foe When in phalanx arrayed, and by winds marshalled Like an army in deadliest conflict ye go, [out ; Not heeding, not caring the course of your rout. m m ■i .. ,_^ ..i. .._. h ' ' 130 APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAW. The snow drift how often the tomb of despair, When wintry winds echo the death smitten's sigh ; Unheeded they sleep, while none hear their last prayer. And the snow stealing softly fast closes their eyes. But though awful in grandeur the snow drift appears, There's joy in its coming in mountains and dells; There's joy unto schoolboys, and very good cheer When their seniors keep time to the music of bells. Then come, fleecy snow flake, we welcome thee now, Since a pure bracing air bears thee down in thy flight ; Deal gently when poor mortals under thee bow. Nor over them triumph with all thy fierce might. APOSTEOPHE TO THE OCEAN. Once again, proud ocean billows, Once again thy waves I see, Resting, foaming, surging, dashfng, Struggling from thy bounds to free. Could you tell the tale of wonders Lying in your bosom deep, Bravest souls might shrinking shudder, Tenderest hearts might bow and weep. Noblest sons and fairest daughters TO MY MOTHER. 131 Storms have cast into thy waves, Stranger, kindred, bond and freeman, All alike in thee find graves. Seabirds chant a mourniul requiem At the holy twilight hour. Where the loved of earth have fallen Vidlims to thy ruthless power. Yet thy calm, majestic waters Rest within their measured bound, Blessing earth with life and freshness. Grasping her broad circuit round. TO MY MOTHER. Mother, dear mother. Thou to whom I owe my being. Who, in the dawn of infancy, Gazed on my young soul's mirror With a fondness such as mothers only feel, (Would heaven that I might truly say Such feelings e'er thy soul inspired,) And saw refledted there The future of my coming life, With all its ills, and toils, and cares. And loves forever blasted, as were thine. Dear mother, in the early morning of thy womanhood. K -v: fi '"-' 9 ■ i 1 132 TO MY MOTHER. In fancy I behold a tear-drop glistening in thine eye, True index of thy soul ! Where thoughts and memories of the happy past Came crowding in thy mind ; Like some rude avalanche that, Wrested from its frigid mount<:iin throne By the sun's genial rays, Sweeps, with impetuous dash. Leaving but desolation in its onward flight- So did the smile of infancy melt the cold, icy bands Which wrapt thy soul in its own native dignity, And stirred the deep, deep, fountain of thy soul To tenderness. This glance into the far off past, Dear mother, pardon ; and forgive me if I ask Is it not this ? — hopes blasted, Love's first and holiest dream. The purest draught to mortals ever given \ Dashed from thy lips by Fate's relentless hand ; That made thee as thou art, and ever was, Since first my infant lips gave utterance To the fond endearing name of mother ; So cold, so far exhalted over all [grasp ? My childhood, youth, or even womanhood, could For thee my inward soul responds — It is'l ^iii-^ TO MY MOTHER. 133 Enough of human nature have I seen, Through life's most chequered way, To know that thus it hath been with thee All the long, long years thpu hast been wife And mother unto children, Who, born not of love. Thou canst not truly love ; Yet whom thy noble soul still cherish, As though loved ! Mother, couldst thou but know the longings of my soul. The yearnings of my heart, to feel That I indeed, possessed a mother^s love ; That I, as other's children do. Might fall upon thy bosom when in sorrow. And in thy fond and listening ear Pour out my soul's deep agony. Assured that consolation I might find in thee. mother, could this ere have been> How blest I might have sailed Over life's treacherous ocean ; Knowing that in thy loving tenderness 1 had a harbor safe where I might anchor. And securely rest from all intruding foes. But no, ah no ! In this my life has been a waste, ^34 TO MY MOTHER. in A desert, with no verdant spot On which to rest my weary head ; No memory that thou ever once Did clasp me to thy bosom, and Imprint upon my brow affe6lion*s kiss I Yet though it is, and ever has been thus, Dear mother, I will not rebuke thee ; No I 'twas thine to suffer. Mine to bear a loss such as the blind endure, Who never saw the glorious light of day ; But yet my soul in fondness clings to thee, And in its sacred depths I feel that cold and reverential awe Which subjeds feel for monarchs, Who, with mercy blending justice, Give to all their portions mete. Yet scorn to yield the approving smile of love. O that for one short hour I might enjoy The bliss that others feel When thinking of their childhood hours I And living o'er again the time When mother's love was theirs ; ^ Then would it be my happiness To make my exit to the farther shore, Lest ne'er again my cup of earthly bliss Should be so full ! TO MY MOTHER, 135 But ah, this wish is vain ! It cannot be ; for Time has left Too deep upon thy lofty brow His furrowed lines of care ; Nor this alone — The harp of life, so along attuned by reason *s powen Grates harshly now, And strange, discordant notes Fall from its shattered strings ; Telling the sad, sad tale — That reason yields to time, And all thy past existence Flits before thee as a dream. That thou art passing thus away, Dear mother, stirs within my soul , Emotions deep^ unutterable I And more gladly would I lay my aching head With thine upon kind Nature's breast. And sleep the sleep that knov\rs no waking. Than linger in a life so full of sadness As is this 1 1864 '!!t;t ■A * f hS. *; mi FLOEAL DEAMA. Chakaoters repbesentino rnK Rose (Quee\ of Flowbrm), forqet-iie-not, Chbtsanthium, Lily (Monofbtalub), Lilac, Snowball, NiQuT Jessamine, Mignonette. cial request of the principal of the and rendered by the young ladies [This drama was written by s St. Joseph's Academy, New Yor at their annual commencement, July, 1867.J Tlie pupil representing the Rose^ or Queen of Flowers y may be seated on a throne^ having a crown of roses on her head, and a full-blown rose in her hand. Those representing the Floral tribe, march in two and two, form- ing a semicircle round her. She then proudly waves her Jloral scepire, and in a clear voice exclaims — Hail, fair daughters of the floral tribe ! Whence come ye, and what is your mission to the children of earth ? Have ye each a choice in ministering to their pleasure and instruction ? (All respond by singing tTie following lines.) We come with offerings of the happy season, Opening our treasures that all may rejoice ; And when we speak to thee, richest of Flora's tribe, O may it please thee to smile on our choice ! The Forget-me-not^ standing at the head of the class, is then addressed by the Queen : i 1 H^B 5 1 1 m 1 t' "'.',': 1 IW:,: : ■ Jl. ■ V 'A Queen — Thou charming little Forget-me-not, what sayest thou ? What is it thy wish to teach the watch- ing, waiting tribes of the earth, in this the glad summer time? Forget-me-not — Fairest of Queens, I would say to them : Heed my words, forget me not I I am not gay ; I am not dazzling. I do not live in solitary grandeur as the tulip ; I am simple and quiet. I have intimate association with my kindred flowerets, and unitedly we seek to accomplish that which would be out of the power of single, isolated effort. Our language is but the echoing voices of the poor* the sorrowing, the distressed, appealing to those on whom Heaven has be^^towed bountifully of temporal blessings. Queen replies — Thou art indeed, little forget-me" not, a pleading angel, and wilt surely reap a rich reward, even though the valued treasure be garnered only in thy own bosom. • Queen to Chrysanthium (red) — What sayest thou, Chrysanthium, so rich in color, and so faint in perfume ? Chrysanthium — Royal Queen, it is mine to steal softly into the presence of those whom I would seek, unannounced by any trumpet of odors. True, I am the emblem of love, that purest and holiest of the ■1^ 5' FLORAL DRAMA. 139 soul's emotions. It sounds no note of warning when about to perform some adl of kindness, and seeks lot the applause of a gazing world ; but is ac^luated by a higher motive ; even a desire to do good, that others also may be happy. Queen Rose, Do not mistake me for the Passion flower. It soon fade? under the storms of adversity, or sinks beneath the waves of inaptitude. Like true love, I abide unchanged-, even when the winter king wields his snowy sceptre over the dark brown earth; if to me is tendered the hospitality of the fireside ; hen peering out of the windows on the passers by .y blushing cheeks show that the vital current should ever be kept in motion, fanned by the gentle flame of love. Queen replies — Boast not thyself, Chrysanthium ! All sublunary things fade and die. Thou dost well while here, but forget not the great hereafter ! Queen to Lily — ( Monopetalus ) — Ah, Lily, thou emblem of purity I What wilt thou this day record as thy mission to the sons and daughters of men } Lily — This would I say, fair Queen. My stem is verdant as the green earth on which they tread ; to them it is seen to terminate in a golden crown, which you see is carefully encircled in a white and N .!te f: i>-. -i 140 FLORAL DRAMA, almost seamless robe. The one seam in my robe shows the chasm of death, through which all must pass to the eternal future, where alone the crown of gold may be obtained. I would say to them — Behold how I spread wide my mantle to catch the sun's glorious rays of light. I drink them all, and they are so abundant that they exclude every spot. Even so should purity absorb all the virtues and leave no room for vice. Queen r:^ acs — ^Thou art wise in thine innocence and purity, dear Lily. Long may heaven spare thee as a guide to those who need thy instruction. Queen to Lilac — Sweet child of the joyous Spring time, what sayest thou to mortals ? What useful lesson wouldst thou impress upon their minds by thy presence ? Li/ac — My Queen, I would show to all that it is not the part of wisdom to droop in discouragement. Even though the sky be overcast for a time, I know that the glorious sun still lies beyond, and that he will soon cast aside the veil which now, for a time, obscures his brilliancy ; and so I keep constantly looking upward, not knowing at what time the veil may part. WithoutstoopingtoearthI scatter my odors around, as I would have them scatter deeds of kindness, benevolence and love. f robe I must Dwn of td wide f light. lat they absorb nocence ire thee s Spring it useful ■s by thy Ihat it is ^gement. I know that he a time, Instantly Ithe veil [around, indness, FLORAL Drama. 141 Queen replies^O Lilac, would that heaven might grant them power to follow thy worthy example ! Queen to Snow Baii—^'^^W^ my beautiful spherical flower, what sayest thou to the dwellers on earth ? I see by thy numerous petals that "virtues cluster round thee." Snow Bail — Yes, fair lady, behold my numerous petals ! They are small, truly, but it matters not. They are all united by a tender cord to my generous heart, from whence they draw their vitality. Singly, separately, our petals represent the separate virtues, which are numerous indeed ; but when happily united in the heart, imbued with Divine love, they show forth in all their beauty and loveliness the harmonious mingling of all the Christian graces. Queen replies — Dear Snow Ball, not to the great, the mighty, or the valiant alone shall praise be awarded ; but also unto those who, like thee, so happily combine in blessed harmony all that is generous, noble and good in poor, fallen humanity ! Queen to Night jessamine — Child of the still hour, what wilt thou whisper in thy silent counsels to those who sorrow while others rejoice 1 Night jessamine — Noble Queen, I would say this : That as I come when the fair and more gorgeously ■■f V:' arrayec[ daughters of Flora have grown weary with displaying their beauty and charms, and courting the praises of an admiring world during the happy hours of sunshine, when they have withdrawn themselves to seek for rest and repose, I come forth and scatter fragrance around, that I may therewith bless and refresh those who are downcast and oppressed. In this I am the emblem of true friendship ; which in the night of adversity comes forth to soothe and comfort the sorrowing and afflicted wherever they may be. Summer friends may forsake us ; day dreams may vanish ; morning flowers may fade, but true friendship ceases ofily with death ! Queen replies — Be it thine, O Jessamine, to retain thy own innate brilliancy and purity of sentiment ; untarnished by the baneful influence of worldly mindedness. Queen to Mignonette — Migonette,thou little treasure, what may I hope to hear from thee ? Mignonette — Beloved Lady Rose, thou knowest that it is said of me that I show forth man's moral and intelle(5tual worth. Doubtless it seems strange that I, apparently so very insignificant, should teach so much by my natural combination. But let me explain — I bloom in every land, in every clime, and p f with ng the hours iselves scatter ss and I. 1 which tie and tx they ns may ut true retain timent ; worldly teasure, ist that |:al and re that lach so i llet me | le, and ill FLORAL DRAMA. 143 secretly emit the most fragrant odors ; thus showing to man that his moral nature need not be impared by the influence of any clime, but may become more, and still more, elevated, whether the body languish beneath a tropical sun, or shiver in the polar regions. The odors of a holy life will make purer the mental atmosphere by which he is surrounded. Man's intelle6lual nature is illustrated by me, in that if I am uncared for, neglected, I die as an annual, without having attained that degree of strength which Nature intended me to possess. If, on the contrary, I am properly cultivated, I become a perennial ; strong as the oak, though not so lofty. So the human intellect, when not properly cared for, never reaches the climax of greatness for which it was designed by the Great Creator. But when drawn out and exercised in weary searches after hidden lore, the grasp of human intelledt becomes strong as the oak, and its aspirations lofty as its highest branches. Queen replies — Mignonette, thine is surely a Heavenly mission, which cannot fail to gather much fruit into the heavenly garner. ( Waves her sceptre to all.) And now let us all, my fair and loyal subjects, give ta each and all of those who look upon us a word of counsel ere we bid them farewell, and depart !IPI -«righter shore, To see our dear first homo no more. O peaceful spot, whore childhood's morn Dwelt 'mid sweet rosebuds free from thorn; Where, free from care, the hours sped on, And ere we knew had past and gone! Gone with their innocence and joy, Exchanged for days mixed with allow; When cares corrode, and toils distress, And seem to make our joys the less. Home — happy spot, where round the hearth Ambition's noblest thoughts find birth, And kindled in youth's heart a flamo To write his name in deeds of fame. Which time shall glory to record, And hearts iu grateful shrines shall hoard; Sweet spots whence blushing maidens leave, With all their wealth of purest love, New joys and pleasures to receive; Still other loving hearts to prove, And found again another home. Whence oiher hearts again shall roam! But dearest to the silvered sire Is the old hearth-stone and its fire; Still sparkling as in days of yore When he launched forth on 'Time's dark shore. With blushing bride all fresh and fair, Who happily vowed his lot to share; And who through all life's changing toils Still clung in fondness to his side; And now that Time has left his trace Of furrowed lines on either face; Each fondly clings in love to home. Whence they desire no more to roam. 1; i 150 * INDEX. INDEX. In Momoriam 3 Preface 6 Out in the Streets; or, One of Life's Mysteries. 7 Warrior's Bride 73 Morning 87 Lines fciijrgoatcd on Looking at a Photograph.. 88 Prairies of the West 89 The Belle of Fashion 01 Reflections in the Graveyard of 92 Hours 95 A Leaf from Real Life 96 Linos Suggested on Seeing Two Little Girls... 102 A Soliloquy 104 Touch Not, Taste Not 105 To Mrs. E. H 107 Rain Drops 110 The Gold Seeker's Farewell Ill TheLark 112 Farewell to Summer 113 What is It? 115 Bury Me in the Sea ^ 117 Respectfully Inscribed to 119 The Dead Sea 120 For a Young Lady's Album 122 Thellumaii Will 123 To my Father 124 A Gem 125 Falling Leaves 126 Sitting by the Hillside 127 The Snow Flake 129 Apostrophe to the Ocean 130 To My Mother 131 Floral Drama 137 My Childhoods Homo 145 To Cynthia 146 Homo 149 ?^ I p