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 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
Po 
 
f° 
 
 ETRY OF THE 
 
 ji 
 
 EART. 
 
I 
 

 
 i 
 
 IP 
 
 r 
 
 ( i 
 
 POETEY OF THE HEART; 
 
 ou, 
 
 THOUGHTS FROM THE SOUL 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 ■i 
 
 VERSES ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 
 
 By R. A. CHAPLEIISr 
 
 
 SAINT JOHN, x\. B. 
 
 PRINTED BY J. & A. McMILLAN,. 
 
 1872. 
 

 70368 
 
 hi 
 
 \y 
 
TO THE READE:1. 
 
 This little book having been published under many disadvan- 
 tages, you are asked not to be too hasty in condemning or casting 
 it aside. Several errors have crept into it, which I did not per- 
 ceive until it was too late to remedy them. My excuse is that 
 having my business to attend to, I was not able a' "' times 
 to give that attention to correcting the proofs that I w ^d have 
 desired. 
 
 At some future time I hope to present you with a volume 
 more worthy your acceptance. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 

 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGBJ 
 
 The Love of a Mother 9 
 
 To Emeiine, jq 
 
 I Remember, I Remember, , 11 
 
 Beautiful Woman, 14 
 
 Hark ! It is the Midnight Clock, . . . , . , 1& 
 Farewell, . . . . . . , . , .17 
 
 Despair and Death, Ig 
 
 To Maud, 22 
 
 Gossamer, 23 
 
 There is a Land of Love and Peace 25 
 
 Anonyma , .... 27 
 
 Twilight 's Fall ng, Love . . 28 
 
 Go to God and tell your Woe, 30 
 
 forgive me Sweet One, my warm passion revealing, . . 31 
 Florrie, 32 
 
 1 saw Her skipping in the Lawn, 33 
 
 I am thinking ui' Thee, 35 
 
 Outcast and Alone 35 
 
 To Thee, my Own, 39 
 
 All Alone 41 
 
 The Lonely One, 42 
 
 The Spectre 43 
 
 Breathe not her Name, ....... 46 
 
 Sonnets, .47 
 
 let me Die, my heart is worn, . . . . . .48 
 
 Foreboding, . 49 
 
 1 know a Star that brightly shines, . . . . . 60 
 
 Sorrowing, 51 
 
 Never shall we meet again 53 
 
 My Heart is sad and weary, 54 
 
 Down in the Dell 57 
 
 Come where the Blue-bells grow, . . . . -58 
 
 Woe is me, •..,.•.... 5& 
 
 Forsaken, . . . . ^ ^ 60 
 
^iil CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 an 
 
 Farewell Mother, "^ 
 
 St. Clare's Lonely Fountain, , "^ 
 
 I Remember a Face that I loved to behold, .... 66 
 
 Sylvan is dancing with Fay • ol 
 
 To Jennie, * ^ 
 
 Meditating Death, '^ 
 
 In the Cold World, 73 
 
 At the Grave "z. 
 
 He never can forgive Me, • ^ 
 
 Darkest Soul, ^° 
 
 Gone to Decay ' 
 
 It was the hour of parting, Love "^ 
 
 The Evening Star is weeping, ^2 
 
 1 feel it would be sweet to die ^ 
 
 Sonnet, 
 
 Binnar and Emily, 
 
 Lillie Vaughan ^ 
 
 O Kiss me Mother ere I Die, ^^ 
 
 My Sailor Girl, ^ 
 
 The Haunted Cave, ^* 
 
 The Hermit's Meditation, ^^^ 
 
 Again must the Tear fall in Sorrow and Sadness, . . 109 
 
 Sonnet, 
 
 She cometh to the Grave, 
 
 We Parted Forever, JJ^ 
 
 meet me, sweet Nellie, to-night in the Dell, . . .113 
 
 Sonnets, ' * iik 
 
 1 had a Flower in the Garden of Love, . . • .Ho 
 
 A Sigh and a Tear, JJJ 
 
 The Maid of Chelsea, j^ 
 
 To Maggie, ^^^ 
 
 Death, 
 
 The Adventures of Bun, ....►•• ^^^ 
 My Love lies down in the deep dark sea, ; ,. . • 127 
 
 Gone .• • • • • ^^ 
 
AQB 
 
 63 
 64 
 66 
 67 
 68 
 70 
 73 
 74 
 76 
 76 
 78 
 79 
 82 
 83 
 86 
 86 
 89 
 91 
 92 
 94 
 101 
 109 
 110 
 111 
 . 112 
 . 113 
 . 114 
 . 115 
 . 117 
 . 119 
 , 120 
 . 121 
 . 122 
 . 127 
 . 128 
 
 CHAPLEIN'S POEMS. 
 
 THE LOVE OF A MOTHEK. 
 
 We may roam throughout life, and kind friends 
 
 may abound ; 
 We may share of their love as they circle us round, 
 But in no otlier friend can such fondness be found 
 As there lives in the breast of a mother. 
 
 There infixed in her heart, it is truthful and pure, 
 'T is a love that no charm has tlie power to allure ; 
 Friends and fortune may fail, but that love will 
 
 endure, — 
 The fond love in the heart of a mother. 
 
 Ah I the lover shall change, and the trusted shall 
 
 fall; 
 And the one we most cherish shall hand us the gall ; 
 But there yet shall remain, sweetly beaming o'er all, 
 The kind, cheering, fond love of a motlier. 
 
 If there is aught of Heaven retained on this earth ; 
 If one thing may soar high o'er all others in worth : 
 If aught ever was breathed on by Grod at its birth, 
 'T is the deep, holy love of a mother. 
 

 10 
 
 ChaplrAn's Poems. 
 
 Though the tempest may rage and the clouds ga- 
 ther low ; 
 
 Tliough the thunder may roll as we pall 'neath our 
 woe ; 
 
 There is always a haven to which we can go, 
 
 And rest safe in the heart of a mother. 
 
 When we 're sickly and ailing, or weary and lone, 
 And the friends whom we loved have all left us and 
 
 gone, 
 liow calTn we repose if our wants are looked on 
 By the soft, gentle care of a mother ! 
 
 TO EMELINE. 
 
 I LOVE tliee, aye, my sweetest Emeline, 
 With all the fondness of a faithful heart, 
 The deep sincerity of m honest soul, 
 The genial fervour ar ^ ihe kindliness 
 Of an unswerving, ever-truthful spirit, 
 And th' longing and the deep emotion fond 
 Of one who will most dearly cherish thee. 
 
 Say thou art mine : my life will then be fair 
 And bright before me; care shall vanish, save 
 To care for thee, and I shall feel a bliss, 
 Such as liigli Heaven reserves alone for those 
 Who truly lov^e. And when the Angels fair. 
 Shall call thee to thy meet and proper home, 
 
T 
 
 / Remember, I Remember, 
 
 And thy sweet, kindly soul shall pass away, 
 This life will be too lone for me to bear, 
 And I will join thee in that fadeless land. 
 But say thou no, and 0/an awful gloom 
 Will darken o'er my sad and aimless life : 
 A languor and a listlessness will droop 
 My heart's blood to its lowest ebb; and vice 
 And ruin dire, will damn my soul, alas I 
 For I will die a rash and early death. 
 Believe me, believe me, for my soul 
 Doth harbour not a base nor mean intent, 
 But this the sighing of my heart, sweet one, 
 Ts but the breathing of my spirit, true. 
 That fain would win the object of its clioice. 
 
 11 
 
 I EEMEMBER, I REMEMBER. 
 
 I REMEMBER, I remember. 
 
 It is many years ago, 
 We were sitting in the valley 
 
 Where the brook meanders slow ; 
 And the birds were singing sweetly 
 
 O'er the calm and tranquil lea, 
 When he told me that he loved me 
 
 And would live alone for me. 
 Then my heart was young and supple 
 
 As the bough upon the tree, :- 
 
 m m 
 
 
12 Chapleiii's Poems. 
 
 When lie told me that he loved me 
 And would live alone for me. 
 
 I remember, I remember, 
 
 How I felt the power of love, 
 
 When he pressed me to his bosom 
 
 As he vowed to Heaven above. 
 
 Tliat he would not cause me sorrow, 
 But would be so true to me; 
 
 I gave my heart unto him, 
 
 And his love I said I 'd be. 
 Then my heart was young and supple 
 
 As the bough upon the tree. 
 When he told me that he loved me 
 
 And would live alone for me. 
 
 1 remember, I remember ' 
 
 How he left me all alone, 
 Through the cruel world to wander 
 
 Amongst strangers and unknown ; 
 Without love and without pity. 
 
 Without spark of manly care ; 
 my heart was filled with sorrow 
 
 For he left me in despair. 
 my heart was young and supple 
 
 As the bough upon the tree, 
 When he told me that he loved me 
 
 And would live alone for me. 
 
 ' 
 
T Remember, I .Remember. 
 
 n 
 
 I rememher, I remember 
 
 How I felt the bitter pain, 
 Wlien I realised the thought 
 
 That we should never meet aerai 11 ! 
 my heart did sink within me, 
 
 And I palk'd beneath the woe 
 Tliat was crushing down upon me, 
 
 P^or I had nowhere to go ! 
 Ah I my heart was young and supple 
 
 As the bough upon the tree. 
 When he told me that he loved me 
 
 And would live alone for me. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 
 I was cast away from home ; 
 ^^'ith the brand of Cain upon me 
 
 In disgraf3e and shame to roam : 
 Not a friend to soothe nor cheer me, 
 
 't was more than I could bear, 
 But I found a Friend in Heaven, 
 
 And besought His holy care. 
 (.) my heart was young and supple 
 
 As the bough upon the tree. 
 When he told me that he loved me 
 
 And would live alone for me. 
 
 1 
 
14 
 
 
 III 
 
 I 
 
 BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. 
 
 I HAVE seen woman's clieek, like the freshness of 
 Spring, 
 When no pain nor no languishing grief hath im- 
 l)rued it ; 
 When the warm flush of sweetness about it dotli 
 
 cling ; 
 As the cherub of beauty first opens its wing, 
 
 And no sorrowing, sad, lonely tear hatli bedewed 
 it. 
 
 I have seen woman grown to her beautiful bloom, 
 With a deep holy calm on lier countenance beam- 
 ing; 
 When no frown of discomfort nor shadow of gloom, 
 Nor no sad disappointment hath spoken her doom. 
 Nor a sigh hath yet marred the fond liope of her 
 dreaming. 
 
 I have marked the fair form as the sweet blushing 
 rose, 
 And as pure and as true as the light of the morn- 
 ing; 
 As gentle and fair as the lily that grows 
 Where the zephyrs sing soft in their silent repose. 
 On the calm mountain side or the valley adorn- 
 ing. 
 
Hark I It is the Midnight Clock, 
 
 15 
 
 I liave seen woman's cheek like the autumnal leaf 
 When the blast cutteth chill and the Summer 's 
 a-dying ; 
 As she bears the wan tone w^iich betokens the grief, 
 k) that deep inward pang which has never relief, 
 Of the lover forlorn when she 's sorrowful sighing. 
 
 O thou beautiful, beautiful, beautiful form ! 
 
 How thou soothest man's heart when his life 
 groweth dreary: 
 If the lover, to yield him the sweets of thy charm; 
 If tlie wife, to be cheered by her tenderness warm ; 
 
 Or tlie mother to bless when forsaken and wearv. 
 
 HARK ! IT IS THE MIDNIGHT CLOCK. 
 
 I. 
 
 Hark I It is the midnight clock 
 
 Telling out the time I 
 'Long a river winding near ; 
 Skirting roimd the silver'd mere : 
 Through the woodlands you may hear 
 Bearing on its tongue so clear 
 
 The record of a crime ! 
 
 Lo I He standeth smeared with blood 
 
 In the silent glade I 
 Where the moon is shining bright, 
 
 ■ n 
 
ilii 
 
 si 
 
 1.. I 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 16 GhapleiyCs Poems. 
 
 Calm and tranquil o'er tl^e night : 
 Reeking in the pallid light 
 Gleams the fatal blade I 
 
 " Ah, 't is done I*' he silent breathes, 
 
 " It is ended now ! 
 Calm and still thou liest there ; 
 All thy beauty, rich and rare, 
 
 Dieth with thy vow !" 
 
 See, he falleth pierced through ! 
 
 Gasping faint and low : 
 " Clara, Clara I thus we die ! 
 Endetli thus my agony ; 
 
 Endeth thus my woe I" 
 
 II. 
 
 Hark ! It is the midnight clock I 
 Telling out the time I 
 
 O'er the moor and through the wold ; 
 
 Lingering in the starry cold ; 
 
 Echoing back from fence to fold ; 
 
 Telling the time it oft hath told ; 
 Fell record of a crime ! 
 
 See a maid in yonder dell. 
 
 White as mountain snow I 
 
 See her breast, as marble, bare ! 
 
 See the blood that 's issuing there ! 
 
 See how ghastly, yet how fair ! 
 Hear her notes of woe I 
 
Fareivell. 
 
 17 
 
 List ! It is a whisper soft, 
 Ghostly, hollow, lone ! 
 
 " Allan I Allan I weep for me ! 
 
 Allan I Allan ! weep for me I" 
 Thus she makes her moan. 
 
 Now she paces, full of rage, 
 
 Wildly to and fro : 
 Eunning, shrieking with a yell- 
 " Allan ! Allan ! down to hell ! 
 
 To woe ! to woe ! to woe !" 
 
 FAREWELL! 
 
 Farewell for ever, for ever farewell ; 
 My heart is cold and my love is dead. 
 No passionate feelings this bosom swell ; 
 No more my soul its bliss may tell ; 
 Hope has departed and fondness fled. 
 Farewell for ever, for ever farewell. 
 
 And why this change, so sad and strange ? 
 The love that I proffered has sickened and died. 
 It wanted thy smile, thine attention the while. 
 For ever and solely with thee to abide. 
 So warm and so pure, it could not endure 
 Thy cold, chilling breath, it fell to decay. 
 How often it strove in thee fondness to move ! 
 Till now it has gone, it has faded away. 
 Farewell for ever, for ever farewell. * 
 
 L 
 
18 
 
 DESPAIR AND DEATH. 
 
 I^OUISE, fiirewell, I feel my reason fast 
 
 DeL'lining, and tliou, sweetest form, whom I 
 
 So dearly love, ere long will be to me 
 
 As one unknown. Hope now I've none, tliougli thou 
 
 i\Iy darling and my sweet Louise, aye thou 
 
 Hast ])een my stay, the glory for which I 
 
 Have striven long and hard. Mine is the blame 
 
 May be, I did not wed thee years agone. 
 
 And take thee to the humble sphere tliat Fate 
 
 Allots to me on earth. My pretty love, 
 
 *T is sad, and keen and sore I feel the pang 
 
 Deep gnawing at my inmost soul. Ah me ! 
 
 Thy grief is fidl : I will not ask thy tears 
 
 To stay, for 't would but be a mockery 
 
 Of Nature's purest feeling. I 'd say hope, 
 
 But hope has faded slow yet wofully 
 
 Away, and left thee but the chilling blast ; 
 
 Tlie foul and deadly atmospliere of deep 
 
 Misfortune, in which thou must doleful breathe 
 
 This glimmer of dull life now all alone. 
 
 I feel the end approaching, and the fell 
 Diseased imaginings of frenzied dreams 
 O'ercrowd my better sense, and soon, alas I 
 If death do not remove this weight of woe, 
 I '11 be but as^a poor demented thing 
 
 t 
 
 Ndb 
 
Desmdr and Death. 
 
 19 
 
 In visions battling with my fate. But, all I 
 Unconscious of tliy sweet and tender care. 
 how it touches deep into my lieart 
 To tee those weeping eyes — so full of soul — 
 In th' beaming rays of which I used to bask 
 My sweetest hopes, now sending forth a stream 
 That gushes from the fountains of thy love ! 
 Those holy guardians of my peace and joy ! 
 Once beaming forth as like two heavenly stars 
 A beauteousness and love that did outdream 
 My fond imaginings of heavenly bliss. 
 
 do not take the smart too keen, my love, 
 If I "do call to mind that sweetest time 
 When thou hadst used to play upon my cheeks 
 In amorous fondness with thy golden hair, 
 As I did sweetly on thy breast recline 
 And tell the beating of thy gentle heart. 
 That was a time, than which the earth shall yield 
 To true and loving souls no deeper bliss. 
 
 A woman's love, methinks, is th' richest gift 
 Of God to man: it soothes liis soul, and balms 
 Tlie woimds that deep are there: it strengtlieneth 
 
 him 
 Tn sickness and in sorrow, mars the pain 
 That deep into the heart doth find its way. 
 It cheers him in his deep distress, and beams 
 Upon him in the lonely hom's of dire 
 Adversity its holy influence. 
 
 
 li 
 
 ■■}- 
 .1 
 
 i t , :' ^ J 
 
I 
 
 20 
 
 Chaplf'/hi's Poemw. 
 
 My sweet Louise, death 's closing o'er my eyes ; 
 
 I scarce can see the outline of tliy face : 
 
 Press closer, love, I cannot hear tliy voice : 
 
 Thy soft hand place in mine, and let me feel 
 
 Tlie sweet, warm influence of thy gentle pulse 
 
 Give quicker motion to my sluggish veins. 
 
 wipe this chilly sweat from off my brow, 
 
 And fold my head within thy loving arms ; 
 
 And give me, if thou canst, to know that tliou 
 
 Art with me still. And now as here I lie 
 
 Upon a bed of death, Louise, I see 
 
 The hollowness of all our earthly hopes 
 
 And youthful aspirations. It is here 
 
 Our minds revert to all that we have done, 
 
 To what we 've aimed to do, and what we 've failed 
 
 In doing. Each little fault comes full before 
 
 Our eyes, and every stain upon our souls 
 
 Doth make us shrink and pall beneath our guilt. 
 
 Louise, my love, this world is but a school 
 In which we 're placed to learn our way to Hea\eD. 
 We have not all a flowery path to tread, 
 But all alike may free partake of Grod's 
 Paternal care. The body oft indeed 
 May suffer many bitter ills and pains. 
 But then, sweet one, as like the plant that feeds 
 Upon the dross of life, so too the soul. 
 In deep and meditative prayer, receives 
 Its strength from Heaven when touched with grief 
 or deep 
 
Despair and Death. 
 
 21 
 
 Keiiiorse of sin. Or wlien advernity 
 
 Duth sfliut Lijs up from all our eartlily friends, 
 
 We cling the more tenaciously to His 
 
 Kind promises, and His unfailing love. 
 
 The soul needs strict and ever guarded care, 
 
 And all, urdess these bitter trials and ills 
 
 Of life were tent, our Fatlier's tender love 
 
 We should neglect, and then we sure would die. 
 
 The visions that ha^■e danced hefore our eyes 
 Arc hut as like the minigc that doth mock 
 Om' better Fense. We '11 meet again in Heaven, 
 And at the dawning of that brighter day, 
 •Mcthinks that our new life will be as th' Spring 
 Tliat comes when all the dreary Winter 's past. 
 ^^'e 11 know no sorrow there, and with our hearts 
 Made clean, our new-born souls will calmly rest 
 And soft recline i pon the downy bed 
 Of an unending and eternal peace. 
 
 Upon me breathe yet once again, my dear, 
 The sweetness of thy soul ; and let me feel 
 Again the touch of thy sweet tender breath 
 Upon my cheek ; and as I fondly press 
 Thy throbbing heart unto my wounded breast, 
 kiss me, and my anxious soul will fly 
 Away as free and light as air, buoyed up 
 And niutured by the sweetness of thv love. 
 
22 
 
 TO INIAUD. 
 
 Beautiful Maud, with beautiful hair, 
 So like a Fairy, (lel)onair ; 
 Parting irom out thy rolliug eyes 
 Fond rays of love I pay with sighs. 
 
 Rri<j^ht as the star that shines above, 
 Beaming to earth its smiles of love; 
 O how can ray fond lo\'e forbear 
 To feel in love with one so fair ? 
 
 Would it were mine to woo and press 
 Thy blooming cheeks with fond caress ; 
 And feel thy breath with fervid heat 
 Distil through lips so chdste and sweet. 
 
 let me on thy breast recline, 
 
 And feel, sweet Maud, that thou art mine ; 
 
 And if words no compassion start, 
 
 heed the pleadings of my heart. 
 
 Sweet Maud, T love thee ; though we part, 
 
 1 leave with thee my trembling heart; 
 In thy sweet prayer remember me. 
 My life, my hope is all with thee. 
 
23 
 
 GOSSAMEK. 
 
 AVlTlllN this l)Ook again I ^:ee 
 A pledge of love once gi\ en to me ; 
 A token of remenilji-ance dear, 
 That's prompted oft the hmely tear. 
 
 Full twenty 3^ears it there has been 
 Enclosed within that sacred screen, 
 Nor miglit I ever cast an eye 
 On that fond pledge to memory. 
 
 Though hidden there from mortal scan, 
 I 've seen the pale bleached thing, and wan, 
 In visions rise before my eye 
 As swelled my bosom with a sigh. 
 
 It was a Summer's ev'ning, calm, 
 When zephyr balmy breathes, and warm, 
 We sat together in the grove 
 And fondly pledged our equal love. 
 
 A faded leaf on gossamer hung, 
 As by the tenderest grasp it clung ; 
 And swaying lightly to and fro 
 It seemed to have no wish to go. 
 
 I* 
 
 i / 
 
24 
 
 Chaplelri's Poems. 
 
 No wish to full, no wish to rise, 
 But there to fade away and die ; 
 
 And gently breathe its lonely sighs 
 As breezes passed it silent by. 
 
 My fair one cauglit the dying thing 
 And placed it where I see it now, — - 
 
 " If doubting ever, let this bring 
 Remembrance of my truthful vow. 
 
 All things may change that take of earth. 
 But love th..': 's pure and holy born.. 
 
 Change knoweth not, for from its birth 
 By God's deep influence it is drawn. 
 
 'T is fed by that continual spring, 
 The essence of His being. Divine ; 
 
 Which brought from Heaven on angel wing. 
 Is free, is full : such love is mine. 
 
 But ah, so tender is that love, 
 
 And yet so strong the holy tie. 
 That one cold blast might fatal prove ; 
 
 Then I should lonely weep and sigh. 
 
 This lone and blighted leaf I give, 
 
 Ensample of that utter woe 
 Which death, death onl}^ can relieve. 
 
 And God alone can ever know. 
 
 m 
 
There is a Land of Peace and Love, 25 
 
 I give myself to be thine own ; 
 
 But should the bitter cup be mine, 
 Then I shall languish all alone, 
 
 Ah, lonely weep and deep repine. 
 
 And like that leaf, slow fade away. 
 Go listless mourn and deeply sigh ; 
 
 And yielding to a lone decay 
 
 My heart will droop and early die. 
 
 But shouldst thou true and constant prove, 
 This heart, that tells its thoughts so free, 
 
 Will ever beam with fondest love 
 And find its bliss in serving thee." 
 
 hi 
 
 THERE IS A LAND OF LOVE AND PEACE. 
 
 A breath setnns to whisper of joys ever new ; 
 And peace lulls to rest all the happy and blest. 
 
 There is a land of valleys fair, 
 
 An island in the sea ; 
 And to that land all those repair 
 
 Whose souls are pure and free. 
 They roam the azure mounts in peace, 
 
 In bowers serene they dwell. 
 And taste that pure and changeless bliss 
 
 Which mortals may not tell. 
 
m 
 
 Chapleiri's Poems. 
 
 I 
 
 'T is charmed by breezes' gentle flow 
 
 And th' limpid, gliding stream ; 
 There fairest flowers and fragrant gi'ow, 
 
 Where brooklets wind and gleam. 
 it is there that lovers feel 
 
 The full deep flow of love, 
 As sweet and fondest raptures steal 
 
 And deep their passions move. 
 
 Not time decays nor blasts lay bare 
 
 Its castles, mole nor wall ; 
 A pure eternity is there 
 
 Which doth preserve them all. 
 The balmy and the pleasant night 
 
 Is ever calm, serene ; 
 The moon beams forth her silver light 
 
 O'er fielJs for ever green. 
 
 There lovers *valk the grand arcades 
 
 Where grows the luscious vine ; 
 There harpers in the pleasant shades 
 
 With minstrel bands recline. 
 There pipers tune to Ij rics sweet 
 
 Enchanting lake and gi'ove ; 
 While chorists in the vaL s repeat 
 
 Sweet strains that tell of love. 
 
 Beneath the domes of brighest gold 
 The lovely sylphs so fair 
 
Anonyma. 
 
 m 
 
 In fond amour their loves enfold 
 To bosoms cliaste and bare. 
 
 And as the amorosos kiss 
 Nor feel their pleasures l-ess. 
 
 Tliey dream their souls away in bliss 
 And raptures fond caress. 
 
 ANONYMA. 
 
 j)ti 
 
 Anonyma, what bliss w^ere mine 
 Could I but win a soul so fair ; 
 
 To have those pretty smiles of thine 
 Beam on my soul when worn with care I 
 
 I love to scan thy pretty face, 
 And gaze upon that winning eye, 
 
 For something there I seem to trace 
 That gives my heart an anxious sigh. 
 
 I sit alone and ponder o'er 
 
 Thine every word, and wonder, ah I 
 If I miglit touch thy gentle heart. 
 
 am I near or from thee far ? 
 
 I will not breathe a word unkind 
 
 If thou deny me, for I know 
 'T were wild to try to bend thy mind 
 
 If "t Imve not freest will to go. 
 
 :| 
 
 3 ■'ii 
 
 M 
 
I 
 
 28 Chapleiii's Poems. 
 
 80 at tliy feet I leave my plea, 
 And ask thee for a kind reply ; 
 
 I will not love tliee less sweet one, 
 
 Though this my hope thou shouldst deny. 
 
 Those cherry lips to never taste. 
 That form to never call my own. 
 
 Were gall more bitter to my soul 
 Than any sorrow I have known^ 
 
 I 
 
 TWILIGHT 'S FALLING, LOVE. 
 
 See love see, the twilight 's falling. 
 Come love come for the sun is low ; 
 
 Hark, the dove her mate is calling ; 
 
 Sweet love come where the violets grow. 
 
 Let us to our fairy bower 
 
 In the still and shady grove, 
 For this is th' enchanted hour 
 
 When we fondest speak of love. 
 
 Birds are no'^tling in the brier. 
 Courting ve with fondest lay ; 
 
 Joining m one happy choir. 
 Singing hymns to parting day. 
 
 J 
 
Twilight 's Falling, Love. 
 
 W 
 
 Owlets too are round us flying 
 
 In the warm inviting air ; 
 While the lamb hath ceased his crying, 
 
 And the lark hath told his prayer. 
 
 Calm is brooding softly over, 
 Shades are closing in the dell ; 
 
 'T is the season every lover 
 
 Words of sweetness best can tell. 
 
 'T is the hour when fond emotion 
 Fills the soul with purest love ; 
 
 Kindling there a true devotion 
 Which the world can never move. 
 
 Then we ^11 seek the shady stream, love, 
 
 Smiling neath a golden sky. 
 Where the sylvans fondly dream, love, 
 
 But no human soul is nigh. 
 
 And we '11 watch the stars appearing 
 Meekly o'er the tranquil lea ; 
 
 While no sound shall reach thine hearing 
 Save my heart beat true to thee. 
 
 Save my heart beat true to thee, love, 
 Save my heart beat true to thee ; 
 
 For thou art more dear to me, love, 
 Tlian aught else can ever be. 
 
30 Chaplein^s Poems. 
 
 There in balmy fragrance lying, 
 Where the rose ambrosia sips,, 
 
 I will (and thou fond replying), 
 Kiss love's sweetness from thy lips-. 
 
 Now the sun hath ceased his shining, 
 Lulled is too the insect hum ; 
 
 To our bower where soft reclining 
 Come, come, my sweet love come. 
 
 II ' 
 
 GO TO GOD AND TELL YOUR WOE. 
 
 Whene'er thy life is dark and drear, 
 And nought thy lonely soul can cheer, 
 Go heaven tell, and tliou shalt feel 
 A balm thy deepest wounds to heal :. 
 A bliss shall lighten o'er thy soul. 
 As when the beams of morning roll 
 
 Full, fair and wide o'er world and sky. 
 
 Wlien friends shall leave thee sad and lone ; 
 Thou feelest to the world unknown ; 
 Thine heart is full, thy breast swells high ; 
 Emotion bm'sts the deep, full sigh ; 
 When anguish, like the pangs of hell 
 Tears out thine hope, and o'er thee swell 
 Dire, black and ugly clouds of woe ; 
 
Forgive me Sweet One. 31 
 
 Aye, when the tempests wildly roll, 
 And yell to damn thy shattered soul ; 
 The very pall of hell unfurled 
 Shall shut thee out from all the world ; 
 Hope on my friend, for thou shalt find 
 (Though ghastly sliadows cloud thy mind), 
 In heaven. One who cares for thee. 
 
 G-o to thy God, and calmly tell 
 The bitter thoughts as high the} swell ; 
 And as thou prayest, a sweet relief 
 Shall clear thy soul of every grief, 
 A ray of heaven's purest light 
 Will dawn upon thy wearied sight, 
 As sweet confiding in His love. 
 
 f I 
 
 FORGIVE ME SWEET ONE, MY WARM 
 PASSION REVEALING. 
 
 ( ) FORGIVE me sweet one, my warm passion revealing. 
 For the deep glow of love bids my feelings to 
 swell; 
 
 A fond tie growing strong o'er my soul is a-stealing, 
 And it draws me to thee with the force of a spell. 
 
 I have often felt full the deep swell of emotion. 
 And the tear has run free in the impulse of love. 
 
 As I 've scanned thy sweet face with the fondest 
 devotion 
 And wished a response in thy soul I could move.. 
 
w 
 
 m 
 
 
 32 
 
 CJuvpleiiCs Poems. 
 
 my sweet gentle one, leave me not to repining, 
 Let thy shyness, like dew, fall as softly away 
 
 As when morning awakes and the sunbeams are 
 twining 
 Fond wreathlets of gold on tlie blossoming May. 
 
 Then that frown shall remove and thy sweetness 
 
 discover [smile ; 
 
 Thy true, gentle heart 'neath a fond beaming 
 
 And I swear by creation a more truthful lover 
 
 Than I never breatlied, free from falseness and 
 
 guile. 
 
 FLORRIE. 
 
 How dreams my Love ? Of valleys fair. 
 Of sunny lawns and shady dells. 
 
 Where the tranquil heart has never care 
 To know what words her lover tells ? 
 
 Does Florrie rest her bosom calm 
 On downy bed, unknown to love ? 
 
 Does not her spirit breathing warm 
 At times the subtle passion move ? 
 
 does my Florrie never feel 
 
 The burning impulse, fond desire. 
 
 Within her gentle breast to steal 
 And kindle there a loving fire ? 
 
 
/ saio Her Skipping in the Laivn. 33 
 
 yes, my Plorrie has a heart 
 
 As gentle as the pleading dove ; 
 From which my soul will never part, 
 For it is bound to her in love. 
 
 1 'd like to be where I could hear 
 
 The sigh that Florrie breathes alone ; 
 And kiss away the silent tear 
 
 That falls to other hearts unknown. 
 
 With Florrie oft I 'd like to stay 
 And tell her all my heart and love ; 
 
 A love no charm can lure away 
 A heart no other soul can move. 
 
 I SAW HER SKIPPING IN THE LAWN. 
 
 I SAW her skipping in the lawn 
 
 Merry, laughing, fidl of fun ; 
 Lithesome as the gentle fawn 
 
 Sporting when the day is done. 
 Flowers were budding in the Spring, 
 
 Life was pleasant, free from care ; 
 Every day new joys would bring. 
 
 When her world was young and fair. 
 
 
 ; 1 
 
34 
 
 ChaplevrVs Poems. 
 
 
 
 I saw her walking in the grove 
 
 Witli her lover by her side ; 
 And her bosom filled with love 
 
 When she said she 'd be his bride. 
 Summer flowers were blooming then, 
 
 Scenting every genial air ; 
 And her bliss was filled when 
 
 Hearts were bound for ever there. 
 
 I saw her weeping in the dell 
 
 When the evening sun was gone ; 
 And the bitter sighs that fell 
 
 Told me that she was alone. 
 Flowers were falling to decay, 
 
 Autiunn came with chilling blast. 
 All earth's beauty passed away ; 
 
 All with gloom was overcast. 
 
 I saw the robin on her grave 
 
 Singing there his lonely song, 
 And he seemed to deeply grieve 
 
 O'er the fate of one so young. 
 Winter winds are howling wild, 
 
 And a mother silent weeps 
 Tears of sorrow for her child, 
 
 Where the broken-hearted sleeps. 
 
35 
 
 I AM THINKING OP^ THEE. 
 
 I AM thinking of thee tliough I 'm far, fur away 
 In the land of the stranger, unknown and alone ; 
 
 I am weeping for thee as I fervently pray 
 
 That our Father will bless thee my own darling 
 one. 
 
 how sad do I feel as I sit by the shore 
 
 Vaguely watching the waves as they listlessly roll, 
 
 And I dream of the land I may never see more. 
 And my sv/eet pretty Ellen so dear to my soul. 
 
 how oft do I see the old cot in the dell 
 
 Where in childhood we wove our fond garlands 
 of love. 
 And I think of the sweet loving words we did tell 
 As at evening we sat in the green shady grove. 
 
 1 recount all the blisses my soul has enjoyed 
 
 As I 've breathed in thine ear so confiding and free 
 The fond strains of a love that can ne'er be destroyed, 
 my love, my life, I am thinking of thee. 
 
 I am thinking of thee and I cast off the tear. 
 Hoping Heaven will smile upon hearts that are 
 true. 
 
 That the bud of affection which binds us so near 
 May yet blossom as pure as in childhood it grew. 
 
36 
 
 OUTCAST AND ALONE. 
 
 There is no pity now for me, 
 
 A wretcli in dirt and rags, 
 As shivering in the freezing rain 
 
 I pace the icy flags. 
 
 I 'm shunned by those who 've marred my sou! 
 
 With dark and ugly sin ; 
 By those who stole my girlish pride. 
 
 And led me on to ruin. 
 
 No friend will breathe a kindly word 
 
 To soothe my troubled breast ; 
 I 'm but the pleasure of the low, 
 
 The sot and drunkard's jest. 
 
 I have no home, no mother's love, 
 
 No sister's kindly smile ; 
 No brother wishes me good night, 
 
 I am so low and vile. 
 
 My father cast me on the world, 
 
 Without a father's care ; 
 Unknown, alone, and without home, , 
 
 I fell into a snare. 
 
OiUcmt and Alone. 
 
 97 
 
 
 Not having that brave woman's heart 
 That sliould liave lielped me on, 
 
 I yielded, like a sappling thing, 
 And now my virtue 's gone. 
 
 The storm beats in my sunken cheeks 
 
 As if to mock my woe ; 
 I 'm wetted through, and numbed with cold, 
 
 There 's nowhere I can go. 
 
 My feet tliat tread these loathsome stones. 
 
 Are wet, and cold and bare, 
 And my freezing lingers I try to warm 
 
 In my damp and uncombed hair. 
 
 The rains have washed the streets, and now 
 To dark oblivion roll ; 
 
 God, that it would thus descend 
 And rain upon my soul ! 
 
 1 once was fair and free from vice, 
 But now I 'm foul and wan. 
 
 Unfit to live, unfit to die ; 
 Disowned by Grod and man. 
 
 And trembling like an ill-used do 
 I sneak in corners lone. 
 
 In vain to hide me from the gaze 
 Of those by whom I 'm known. 
 
 g. 
 
 V 
 
r- 
 
 38 Chaplein^s Poems. 
 
 For those by whom I once was loved 
 
 Despise their kith and kin, 
 Look on me with a cold disdain, 
 
 And will not take me in. 
 
 iSo as a loathsome thing, diseased, 
 
 I feel my very breath 
 Abhorred and shunned, as if indeed 
 
 My presence told of death. 
 
 Ah me I my plaint might touch a heait, 
 But none will deign to hear ; 
 
 I 've not a friend in all the world 
 To check one gushing tear. 
 
 I now must yield my worldly hope. 
 But pardon of God I crave. 
 
 And soon from cold, hard-hearted man 
 1 11 hide me in the grave. 
 
 And then new washed in Jesus' blood 
 And free from all my shame, 
 ' My soul shall go as clean to Grod 
 As when from Him I came. 
 
 Down in the ground I low shall lie, 
 Unmarked by tomb or stone ; 
 
 Unmourned, unwept, a beggar, wretch, 
 I '11 rest alone, unknown. 
 
To Thee, my Oivn. 
 
 The sun will shine on my poor grave, 
 And daisies fresh will bloom, 
 
 As sweet and fair as if they decked 
 A monarch's sculptured tomb. 
 
 I come to Thee, Almighty God ! 
 
 Have mercy on my soul ! 
 take me now, for none of earth 
 
 Will with poor me condole. 
 
 39 
 
 TO THEE, MY OWN. 
 
 My dearest, my gentle love. 
 Fair spirit from those realms above, 
 
 Why weep and lonely sigh ? 
 Thou 'rt ever to my heart most near. 
 Why cause the deep heart-paining tear 
 
 To darken o'er my eye I 
 
 I 've spoken a love, than which the earth 
 Ne'er gave a purer impulse birth. 
 
 My love, sweet one, for thee. 
 What shall I say, that love how tell, 
 That all thy doubts I may dispel ? 
 
 My heart is full, Amy ! 
 
 I 've told thee all, but yet my pen 
 Shall speak my thoughts and feelings when 
 From thee I 'm far away. 
 
 ■ 
 
 J 
 
^ 
 
 ; i; 
 
 40 To Thee, my Own. 
 
 If I thy doleful hoiu's can cheer, 
 Can stay the sad and lonely tear, 
 I '11 write and fondly pray. 
 
 Thou must not weep, nay do not weep, 
 Leave that to me, while calmest sleep 
 
 En veils thee love, in rest. 
 let me in thy bosom dwell 
 Serene, then thou wilt learn to tell 
 
 That love within my breast. 
 
 't is a love as pure, as true 
 
 As when in childhood's days it grew 
 
 So passionate and divine ! 
 It knows no change, it cannot die. 
 Till this full heart snail cease to sigh 
 
 And in tlie tomb recline. 
 
 No other soul e'er had a charm 
 
 To move this love so deep and warm ; 
 
 'T is thine still and unchanged 
 Fear not, for there is in my heart 
 Attachment earth can never part. 
 
 Nor can it be estranged. 
 
 I yield to Heaven, nor know I how 
 By action, impulse, thought nor vow. 
 To make my love more plain. 
 If I have failed in these long years 
 With breaking heart and harrowing tears, 
 . Then deep, deep is my pain. 
 
f 
 
 41 
 
 ALL ALONE. 
 
 Ix the grave ah now slie lieth, 
 Where the aspen mournful sigheth, 
 And the night-bird shrilly crieth, 
 All alone. 
 
 Near the brooklet softly creeping 
 Through the willows silent weeping, 
 There the darling one is sleeping 
 All alone. 
 
 Softly fall the beams of Lunar 
 Through the lindens sweet upon her, 
 And the woodlands doleful mourn her 
 All alone. 
 
 Every night a widow, lowly. 
 Bowed with age, still sadly, slowly 
 Seeks the grave to her so holy 
 All alone. 
 
 Weeping, weeping; till the dawning 
 Of the cold and dewy morning 
 You may see her silent moiuning 
 All alone. 
 
 Gone her heart, her only pleasure ; 
 Filled with grief that hath no measure. 
 She must live without her treasure 
 All alone. 
 
 i. 
 
42 
 
 THE LONELY ONE. 
 
 When lone am I and ill at ease, 
 And night-birds pipe noctm-nal tune ; 
 
 When winds are hushed amongst the trees. 
 And fairies dance before the moon ; 
 
 When bright and cold and clear 's the sky. 
 And Heaven smiles my soul to woo ; 
 
 I walk the dell with chilly sigh, 
 And long to that fair region go. 
 
 For all is gloom and sadness here. 
 Not one fond hope to cheer a day ; 
 
 No kindly word to stay the tear, 
 Nor chase the lonely drop away. 
 
 Distressed, in solitude, alone, 
 
 I watch the time slow passing by ; 
 
 And listen to the dovelets moan 
 
 As winds amongst the branches high. 
 
 The tears o'erweighted with my grief 
 In lone distraction fain will start, 
 
 Since I can hope for no relief; 
 
 O where shall rest the broken heart I 
 
 1 hate my being I God forgive ! 
 
 But how can I such anguish bear T 
 No one my sorrows to relieve, 
 
 Nor from my breast this loneness tear. 
 
 I 
 
J 
 
 1 
 
 The Sjpectre. 
 
 Metliinks 't were sweet when life be o'er 
 
 And I am laid in yonder dell ; 
 ^here pain will never reach me more 
 
 ^ or more this grief my bosom swell! 
 I there may lie and calmly rest 
 
 From all the world's misdeeds apart; 
 Ihere sleep alone serenely ble^t 
 
 Where no dark soul can break my heart. 
 'T will be a sweet and welcome close 
 
 lo my life's dark and joyless day, 
 
 When death shall yield me that repose 
 ^ ^^^^h knows no cloud to mar the day. 
 
 43 
 
 i< ' 
 
 THE SPECTKE. 
 r DWELL in barns and caverns lone ; 
 
 My shade is seen where wild winds blow. 
 My vo.ce IS heard when breezes moan, 
 VV Jiich lonesome murmurs tell my woe 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey t 
 1 m haggard and withered and grey \ 
 I flit amongst the ruins old 
 
 Of castle, church, or lonely hall ; 
 I ghostly speed across the wold, 
 Or sit me sad upon the wall. ' 
 
 I ^'m haggard and withered and grey r 
 I m haggard and witliered and grey f 
 
44 Chapleiri'a Poems. 
 
 I seek the forest's deepest gloom 
 
 Where night-owl whoops his dirges drear ; 
 I guard the damp and silent tomb, 
 
 And fill mankind with dread and fear. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey I 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 
 I haunt the wood and shady stream ; 
 
 I swing upon the lofty bough ; 
 A phantom, ugly, wierd and grim, 
 
 I breathe my murmurs sad and low. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey I 
 
 I neither joy nor pain may tell, 
 
 Nor any other state have seen ; 
 I reach not heaven nor sink to hell. 
 
 But mope, and restless dwell between. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey I 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 
 I fix me in the vision strange 
 
 Of man diseased by ceaseless care ; 
 
 I stare him, till with a slow derange 
 ;He palls and dies in mad despair. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey I 
 I 'm haggard and withered and giey I 
 
HB 
 
 The Spectre. 
 
 45 
 
 I am a frightful, ghastly shade, 
 With sinews bare and grisly bone ; 
 
 3Iy eyes are sunken in my head. 
 And goodly form I have not known. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 
 I brood o'er acts of bloody crime, 
 
 And make the foulest murderer cower ; 
 I clatter in his ears of grime 
 
 My shapeless bones, bemoan the hour. 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 
 r to the felon's lonely cell 
 
 And mutter woes with clammy breath ; 
 I mock his sighs with wiles of hell, 
 
 Blood covers blood, death cries for death I 
 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey I 
 I 'm haggard and withered and grey ! 
 
 ;8aHSFas«!M«ias«! 
 
46 
 
 brp:athe not her name. 
 
 Breathe not her name, ^or its memory ceasetli 
 To yield the fond charhi that it once to me bore; 
 
 A cloud hovers over it, oblivion doth cover it, 
 The spell once possessing enchants me no more. 
 
 Cast to the winds be the breath that she utters ; 
 
 And deathly and cold be the sigh tliat she moans; 
 May loneness and sorrow embitter each morrow, 
 
 And rack the foul heart the ungodly one owns. 
 
 Gro she the way of her own evil seeking, 
 
 Uncared for, unnoticed, uncherished, alone ; 
 
 ^ince love may not reach her, time only can teach 
 her 
 To value the heart that would make her its own. 
 
 Adieu ! I will never again seek to treasure 
 In thy callous heart so deceitful and foul. 
 
 That fondness so holy, so gentle, so lowly, 
 
 Wliicli melts a man's heart and entrances his soid. 
 
 Adieu to my darling, my pride and my glory ; 
 
 The dear one whose praises I often have sung ; 
 Adieu, ah for ever ! And thus I must sever 
 
 That fond lingering hope which so fervently 
 clung. 
 
 V 
 
47 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 THE RAVEN PERCHES ON THE ROUGFf, 
 
 The raven perdies on the bough ; 
 The lover breathes a lioly vow— ' 
 •'I swear by lieaven, my world thou art 
 My peace is lost if we do part. 
 A tinner love than that I own 
 Within the breast of man 's unknown. 
 Keject thou not a love so warm, 
 For I will shield thee from all harm 
 And cherish thee with fondest pride 
 If thou 'It consent to be my bride. 
 Mine is a pure unselfish love, 
 As pure as angels breathe above. 
 Then spare, spare the bitter pain, 
 And let me not beseech in vain." 
 
 II. 
 
 The raven perches on a mound ; 
 
 A number marks the new-formed ground ; 
 
 In lonely woe a mother weeps 
 
 Her silent tears where Amy sleeps. 
 
 No sigh can win, no holy vow 
 
 Can reach the gentle spirit now. 
 
 No fond entreaty melt the heart 
 
 Ere soon to give it deadly smart. 
 
 I 
 
III 
 
 48 ChapleirCa Poema^ 
 
 No grief, no deep intensive piiin 
 Can wound her gentle soul again. 
 In death she lieth sweet, alone : 
 Her spirit to its rest hath gone. 
 No more to hear a ruffian's vow,. 
 For she doth rest in quiet now. 
 
 LET ME DIE, MY HEART IS WORN. 
 
 LET me die, my life is o'er. 
 
 My hope is gone, and I am lone ; 
 /The peace possessing once, no more 
 
 Will to this wounded breast be known. 
 
 The world grows cold, and all that 's dear 
 In treat. cQ-ed friendships seeks decay ; 
 
 The youthful dreams that bound them near 
 Are fading silently away. 
 
 No more my soul aspires to gain 
 What fate and fortune both deny ; 
 
 So I must yield in silent pain. 
 
 While all the phantoms from me fly. 
 
 Then let me die, let me die, , 
 
 And seek that land wliere al' ire blest ; 
 
 Where all is calm, and peace and lo^'e, 
 And angels bear our souls to rest. 
 
 Ill 
 
Forehodincj, 
 
 All let me die, my heart is worn 
 
 With so deep sorrow, pain and tears ; 
 
 My life is spent, ray hope is dead, 
 I seek the grave in early years. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 FOREBODING. 
 
 The autumn winds are l)lowiu(>-. 
 The kine are drear'ly lowing. 
 The brook is wildly flowiuf*- 
 
 And leaves bestrew the ground. 
 
 The clouds are swiftly flying ; 
 The trees are mournful siginn; 
 Because that summer 's dying 
 
 And blasts are howling round. 
 
 A gloom is brooding over ; 
 Too fond and true a lover ; 
 I feel I cannot move her 
 
 Nor moisten her sapless eye. 
 
 There is a lonely feeling 
 For ever o'er me stealing-, 
 A mortal pang revealing 
 
 I feel I soon shall die. 
 
 49 
 
50 
 
 I KNOW A STAR TITAT BRIGIfTLY SHINES. 
 
 I 
 
 I KNOW a star that hrigbtly .as 
 
 Tlirou^h every gloomy lioiir; 
 It tlirou<j^li tlie silent darkness gleams 
 
 With ealm and holy power. 
 AVhen heavy clouds are lowering, 
 
 The world is dark iind drear, 
 Tliat star heams from its heaven 
 
 And glistens through a tear. 
 
 And glistens through a tear. 
 Ah, glistens through a tear ; 
 That star heams fj it» heaven 
 And glistens t^ .ougu a tear. 
 
 When every other comfort fails, 
 
 And pleasiu'es flee away ; 
 That star upon me sweetly smiles 
 
 With bright and cheering ray. 
 When bv the world forsaken 
 
 And not a friend is nea]', 
 That star beams from its heaven 
 
 And glistens through a tear. 
 
 It cheers and leads me ever on 
 Through all my toil and care, 
 
 It tells me of a loving breast 
 And bids me welcome there. 
 
 JV 
 A 
 
 t t'U 
 
Sor 
 
 roiv 
 
 mcj. 
 
 51 
 
 And wlion my spirit 's mg\xm^ 
 
 To Hee from earth away, 
 My own, my true, my lovely star 
 
 Reams forth its ^awWv ray. 
 It cheers me when I sit alone 
 
 And feel so sad nnd drear. 
 
 And in the twihV],t of my hope 
 
 It glistens through a tear. 
 
 It glistens through a tear. 
 Ah, glistens thi-ough a tear, 
 And in the twilight of my hope 
 It glistens through a tear. 
 
 SORROWIXG. 
 
 My mother now is dead, and my father too is gone 
 Brothers I have not, and sisters are unknown ; ' 
 Companions of my childhood are roaming far away, 
 And as a leaf of autunm I am foiling to decay : 
 
 For a friend I have not left 
 
 Now my darling mother 's gone ; 
 
 O I cannot live alone. 
 
 No, I cannot live alone. 
 
 My grief is full and deep and my eyes are swoll'n 
 with pain, . 
 
 A horrid thrill of loueuess my heart doth rend in 
 twain ; 
 
..<nll»,. »,"«■<■ 
 
 52 
 
 Chaplein'a Poems. 
 
 For I have no one to love me, I have none to cheer 
 
 me now, 
 No sweet fond smile to bless me, no kiss to soothe 
 
 my brow. 
 
 I have no one to love me 
 Now my darling mother 's gone ; 
 I cannot live alone. 
 No, I cannot live alone. 
 
 how deep the heart can feel when estranged from 
 
 all its kind ! 
 As I look upon the world with a lone and vacant 
 mind, 
 
 1 behold the forms I love but they love not in re- 
 
 turn. 
 Then I turn away a- weeping, and in silence I do 
 mourn. 
 
 For I have no one to love me 
 Now my darling mother 's gone ; 
 I cannot live alone, 
 No, I cannot live alone. 
 
 For my mother dear would bless me and would kiss 
 
 away the tear. 
 She would soothe my drooping heart with a deep 
 
 and holy care ; [alone 
 
 my darling gentle mother is now sleeping all 
 Where the angels meet to bless the dead, God ! 
 
 my mother 's gone. 
 
 
Never shall lue Meet Again, 
 
 I have no one to love me 
 Now my darling mother 's gone ; 
 I cannot live alone, 
 No, I cannot live alone. 
 
 5,S 
 
 \ \ 
 
 
 NEVER SHAL: n^E MEET AGAIN. 
 
 Had I power I would flee to that home 
 Where all trouble is lost to tlie blest ; 
 Where no sorrows nor woes e\er come 
 And the weary and sad are at rest. 
 
 Far away, far away from tliis pain, 
 For never shall we meet again. 
 
 Life's a gloom, I would fliin seek tlie grave, 
 Where a tranquilness ever unmoved 
 
 Givetli back all of earth that life gave. 
 And broods o'er the dust that we loved. 
 
 There the servant from bondage is free. 
 And the wealthy yields up his desire'; 
 
 There the proud and contending agree ' 
 In that truce which doth never expire. 
 
 There tlie humble and great are no more. 
 And the worm has the best of us ill ; 
 
 But sorrows deep trials are o'er. 
 Nor a woe may the spirit recall. 
 
 ; 
 
f 
 
 54 
 
 Chapl sin's Poems. 
 
 In the tomb I could rest all alone, 
 Lost to all, and the world lost to me ; 
 
 For there love with his pangs is unknown, 
 From tliis anguish I there should be free. 
 
 The sweet love of my youth is now o'er. 
 Every hope 's sought an early decay ; 
 Her dear face I shall see never more, 
 my soul, might I fly, fly away. 
 
 Far away, far away from this pain. 
 For never shall we meet again. 
 
 MY HEART IS SAD AND WEARY. 
 
 My heart is sad and weary, 
 
 And the liour 's distressing long ; 
 
 I fear they 've stolen my love away. 
 Or the fates do guide him wrong. 
 
 My love is late, I 'm very lonely, 
 G-loom is brooding o'er my cot ; 
 
 Distress and grief my heart is rending. 
 For my love, he cometh not. 
 
 Methought I saw him to me come 
 
 As I sat 'neath the tree, 
 His trembling hand held soft a flower 
 
 That he had plucked for me. 
 
\ 
 
 f 
 
 My Heart is Sad and Weari/. 
 
 He stood and gazed upon me sad, 
 
 A tear bedimmed liis eye ; 
 T]ien looked he on tlie portent gem 
 
 And breathed a heavy sigli. 
 
 my love, I 'm very lonely, 
 
 All is gloom around my cot • 
 Methinks thou 'rt lost, dread foreboding ! 
 
 My love, my love, he eometh not. 
 
 The tear fell sad, I gazed intent. 
 
 My heart beat wild and high • 
 He caught my gaze with an awful glance 
 
 And said that lie must die. 
 
 my love, why dost thou linger ! 
 
 Hasten o'er moor and lea • 
 Bound like a hart with hounds pursuing, 
 
 Come, come my only one to me. 
 
 He touched the bud upon my lip, 
 
 And threw it at my feet ; 
 Tlien took me in his arms and said— 
 
 " We never more shall meet I " 
 
 He softly pressed my trembling hand, 
 
 And kissed a sad farewell ; 
 Tlien whispered low the mystic words— 
 
 "More, love, I may not tell." 
 
 oo 
 
Ill 
 
 Si! J 
 
 II 
 
 56 Chaplein's Poems. 
 
 The moon 's half spcinned the starry vault I 
 time, but couldst thou stay ! 
 
 What would I give if I might claim 
 But one short hour's delay I 
 
 He hastened quickly down the path, 
 
 And onward went apace ; 
 The lilies drooped in sad adieu, 
 
 And roses kissed his face. 
 
 I watched my love go o'er the hill, 
 While distance lent me sight ; 
 
 Down, down, another step, heaven ! 
 This dread and woful night. 
 
 My love comes not, the time is up, 
 The beat now strikes my doom ; 
 
 The hour is past, hope flies away. 
 And I am left in gloom ! 
 
 I '11 die ! and with this deadly steel 
 Will plunge my deepest vein I 
 
 heaven ! heaven save my soul, 
 That we may meet again. 
 
57 
 
 DOWN IN THE DELL. 
 
 Down in tiie dell where the yew-trees droop 
 
 Their boughs of sombre hue ; 
 Where the brooklet ripples by, 
 And the lime-trees towering high 
 Brush the vault of blue. 
 
 Where too the violet and primrose dwell 
 
 Far in the covert lone ; 
 Where the wild vines love to creep 
 Where the willows droop and weep 
 
 And the young doves moan. 
 
 There I will come at an even-time 
 
 When wren and robin pray. 
 W^here the ivies sweetly twine, 
 And the evening sun doth shine 
 
 As the conies play. 
 
 I will come when the moonbeams glance 
 
 Deep in the forest shade ; 
 Where the elfins dance at night, 
 And the zephyrs breathing light 
 
 Charm the moon-lit glade. 
 
 Yes, I will come at the midnight hour 
 
 When aspens drear'ly sigh : 
 And sit me in the silent grove, 
 And think of thee my only love ; 
 
 And break my heart and die. 
 
.58 
 
 CO.AIE WHERE THE BLUE-BELLS GROW. 
 
 The sun is setting sweet, my love, 
 zephyr hardly stirs the grove : 
 The lark is falling to her nest. 
 This is the hour we love the beat. 
 
 Come where the blue-bells grow. 
 
 The cirrous clouds enwreath the sky, 
 
 The bee is buzzing home ; 
 The glow of busy day is by, ^ 
 
 come my sweet love come, 
 
 Come where the blue-bells grow. 
 
 The robin sings his lonely song 
 
 As evening shadows fall, 
 The swallows too with twittering tongue 
 
 Fond lovers seem to call. 
 
 Come where the blue-bells grow. 
 
 For 't is so sweet to sit alone 
 
 With one we truly love. 
 And tell the passion that we own. 
 
 And all the fondness prove. 
 
 Come where the blue-bells grow. 
 
 And what pleasure we shall find 
 
 In that sweet solitude I 
 With each a free and open mind 
 
 And thee so true, so good. 
 
 Come where the bluobells grow. 
 
 II 
 
59 
 
 WOE IS ME! 
 
 A ^lAiD stood weeping on a rock 
 Tliat soared towards the sky. 
 A yawning crevice gaped below 
 Where torrents rushed with wildest flow. 
 As from her heart blood trickled slow 
 From ugly wound with heated glow, 
 She yelled, and thus she said— 
 
 " Ah, woe is me I I die ! 
 
 From yonder bloody strife I 've tied I 
 
 Alas I ah me ! I die I 
 
 She looked toward a forest dark 
 
 With mad bewildered eye ; 
 
 Said she — " I hear the bowies clash ! 
 
 Hark ! hark ! what means that woful crash ! 
 
 And now see yonder how they dash 
 
 With reeking bloody swords that flash 
 
 In pallid beams of moon ! 
 
 "Ah, woe is me I I die I 
 From yonder bloody strife I 've fled I 
 Alas I ah me ! I die I"' 
 
()() 
 
 FOUSAKKN. 
 
 The moon ji^lidcs on lier heauteous rouvsf 
 Aiul lij^hts the brook witli silver ^low ; 
 
 Past liours runh o'or my mind perlorce 
 As if to ajjfji^ravate my woe. 
 
 Hark ! sweet riiilomel is sinoinj;', 
 And her anthems vault the sky ; 
 
 List ! the woody dells are rinj^ivij^ 
 Echoes sweet in melody. 
 
 Gone art thou, and left me lonely ? 
 
 Thou for whom my bosom heaves ; 
 Thee I cherished and thee only. 
 
 Winds are sighing 'mongst the leaves. 
 
 Here thou said'st that nought could sever 
 Hearts like thine which ne'er deceives ; 
 
 Thy love was plighted here for ever : 
 Winds were sighing "mongst the leaves. 
 
 Here thou lov'dst me never, never ; 
 
 Woe to her thy vow believes ! 
 Mv soul was bliijjlited here for ever ! 
 
 Winds were sighing 'mongst the leaves. 
 
 Dearest ; can'st thou thus forsake me ? 
 
 Could'st thou tell my feelings now^, 
 Back into thine arms thou'dst take m , 
 
 And amend thy broken vow \ 
 
Fovfiaken, 
 
 ()1 
 
 Svvrct ; Miat- placid culm still n;ijj^nct1i 
 'I'hat witnossed then tliy love talcs tell ; 
 
 Darliiijj;; still that love rcmaiiietb 
 Which thy wooiiigs ta,ujjfht to swell. 
 
 Loved one; theni's a pauy^ tliat paiueth 
 With a keen and deadly smart; 
 
 Hli'ditcd love — whose stiniif retaineth 
 All thy vows deep in my heart. 
 
 Clierislied ; there 's a lonely feeling 
 (Qualms and deadens (^very thought ; 
 
 "r is to know that thou art stealing 
 The only joy my life hath sought. 
 
 () return love ! come and cheer me; 
 
 For thine absence so me grieves ; 
 Though away, my heart is near thee. 
 
 Winds are sighing 'mongst the leaves. 
 
 Zephyr in the grove is sighing, 
 All around is drear and lone ; 
 
 Thougli thy love for me is dying 
 1 would call thee yet my own. 
 
 i 
 
 t 
 1 1 
 
 I- 
 
 Hark ! the nightingale is singin 
 Tunes of sweetness in the sky ! 
 
 And the placid vale is ringing 
 With the angel melody. 
 
 g' 
 
62 
 
 Chaplein^s Poems, 
 
 H 
 
 II 
 
 'T is a woman's lieart thou 'rt breaking, 
 Fervent, tender, constant, kind ; 
 
 The wounded breast thou 'rt now forsaking, 
 Thou, and onlv thou canst bind. 
 
 >Simple, unsuspecting, trusting, 
 
 All confiding, open, free ; 
 Mllain thou, for ever lusting, 
 
 Dark with guilt and treacliery. 
 
 Thou a man I a dark defiler 
 
 Of what 's good and pure and fair ; 
 
 Sure a darker, colder, viler 
 
 Worm than thou ne'er cast despair. 
 
 Gro, begone I foul pimp imblushing,, 
 
 Wily thief of woman's peace ; 
 I will die, for grief is crushing 
 
 With a weight and bitterness^ 
 
 * 
 
 Yes, I will die ! a direr hell 
 Than life to me would prove 
 
 Was never spake, nor shall words tell 
 The taste of blasted love I 
 
 I '11 not remove from this lone spot. 
 
 For whither may I go ? 
 A refuge from this grief there 's not 
 
 Save in the ground laid low. 
 
Fareivell Mother, 
 
 fi3 
 
 So here I '11 sit and dimly scan 
 The heavens widening fair ; 
 
 And think no more of wicked man 
 But dream of angels fa^'r 
 
 But ah ! this woe will cross my mind I 
 
 How T shall sob and sigh I 
 What throes of grief flow un confined ! 
 
 I 'm ruined ! must, must die I 
 
 FAREWELL MOTHER. 
 
 Farewp:ll mother, tears are streaming 
 P^'om your dim and aged brow i/ 
 
 All my hope so fondly dreaming 
 Faded is and vanished now. 
 
 Farewell mother, I must leave you 
 Ne'er to see yoiu* face again ; 
 
 And the thought that doth so grieve you 
 Lends me deep and wounding pain. 
 
 it breaks my heart to sever 
 From the tie that binds so near, 
 
 For my lips again may never 
 Kiss away the falling tear. 
 
64 
 
 ChapleiiCs Poems. 
 
 i 
 
 "2 1 
 
 u 
 
 All the tie3 of youth are broken, 
 Peace and reason fail me now ; 
 
 Lo I I liear the fatal token — 
 Early death or linjj^erinfj^ woe. 
 
 I am goin^ lone and slighted, 
 To a far and distant land, 
 
 For my youthful hope is blighted 
 By a cold and ruthless hand. 
 
 Bitter, bitter is the anguish 
 Gnawing at my broken heart, 
 
 Which in grief must silent languisli, 
 Bleeding from the deadly smart. 
 
 Aged woe and early sorrow 
 
 From the breast will never fly ; 
 
 So will gloom o'ercloud each morrow 
 When we feel it sweet to die. 
 
 ST. CLARE'S LONELY FOUNTAIN. 
 
 The clouds are at rest on the mountain ; 
 
 The breezes are low in the dell ; 
 A maid at St. Clare's lonely fountain 
 Her beads is beginning to tell. 
 
 " My love is away o'er the sea, 
 
 Ave Maria, list to my prayer I 
 Be with him and keep him for me, 
 And guide him most holy St. Clare. 
 
St, Clare's Lonely Fountain. 
 
 65 
 
 The moon lights tlie deep-})ed(U'd river, 
 
 And spreads a calm gh)ry around ; 
 Tlie stars twinkle ever for evt»r, 
 There is not a jar ncr a sound. 
 
 " My love is now far, far away. 
 
 Rut I know he is tlnnkinj:^ of me ; 
 He 's not of i\\e gallant and gay. 
 Never heart was so truthful as he.'* 
 
 The trees are all dead in the stillness, 
 
 No rustle of leaflet nor bough ; 
 The vapours fall round with a dullness 
 And sparkle like gems on her brow. 
 
 " Fair heaven be guide to my love, 
 
 And be with him wherever he roam ; 
 Jesu' that dwelleth above 
 
 Do thou guide him to me safely home." 
 
 Her voice softly dies in the cover ; 
 
 A tear leaves her dark glowing eye ; 
 As fondly she dreams of her lover, 
 Her heart venteth many a sigh. 
 
 " My love bade me come to the well. 
 
 And pray in my loneliness there ; 
 And oft as my beads I should tell 
 To commend him to holy St. Clare.'' 
 
 I: 
 
 1 
 
 1^ 
 
I 1 
 
 C)Ci 
 
 I 
 ! ( 
 
 I 
 
 I REMEMBER A FACE THAT I LOVED 
 
 TO BEHOLD. 
 
 I REMEMBER a face that I loved to behold, 
 For a glory dwelt on that fair brow ; 
 
 And it beamed forth a beaiiteousness never yet told, 
 l^ut I see not the gentle one now. 
 
 I remember an eye beaming calmness and love. 
 As it fondly would gaze in my own ; 
 
 But the soul that possessed it, on wings of the dove 
 To some other fair region hath flown. 
 
 I remember a voice ringing sweetly and clear 
 
 As to me never sounvd had before ; 
 Like the swells of a cherub it trilled in my ear. 
 
 But on earth I shall hear it no more. 
 
 I remember the spot where at evening we met, 
 
 Bv the fountain alone, all alone : 
 Nor the soft falling whispers shall I e'er forget. 
 
 Though tlie angel that breathed them has gone. 
 
 I am old, and my hair is as white as the snow. 
 
 Early age has crept over my brow ; 
 To the home of my loved one soon, soon I shall go, 
 
 For old death is en veiling me now. 
 
Sylvan is Dancinr/ ivith Fay. 
 
 07 
 
 Underneath the green turf where the robin weeps 
 long, 
 
 And the woodpecker taps at the tree, 
 There 's a sweet little spot in the willows among, 
 
 That 's reserved for my love and for me. 
 
 And ere long by the shade of the fir as she sleeps, 
 I will clasp my fond image in death ; 
 
 Where the pale lilies droop and the jasamine weeps, 
 And the zephyr wafts softly her breath. 
 
 SYLVAN IS DANCINO WITH FAY. 
 
 How clearly and bright the moon 's shining to- 
 night, 
 
 Around all is bright as the day ; 
 O'er valley and dell a stillness doth dwell, 
 
 And Sylvan is dancing with Fay. 
 
 Hark, hark to the gay merry laugh, as away 
 
 They skip over bramble and brake I 
 The fiiiries and elves are sporting themselves. 
 
 And frolicking over the lake. 
 
 How lonely and hollow each echr doth follow I 
 ^^'hile shrill sounds the shriek of the nymj)!) ; 
 
 Which mounting on high is lost in the sky 
 Where devil is dancing with imp. 
 
 i 
 
08 
 
 Ghapleiii^s Poems. 
 
 ill I 
 
 
 See, see yonder devils enjoying their revels, 
 And goblins and dwarfs all aglee ; 
 
 Round, round they do go on tip of the toe, 
 80 merrily, frantic and free. 
 
 See spirits and hosts of wandering ghosts 
 
 Come streaming up valley and fell ; 
 They gather around and darken the ground, 
 
 While demons come hooting from hell. 
 
 See manes and lares, hags, kelpies and fairies. 
 
 Old harpies and satyrs and all 
 The vilest of shapes tli' t humanity apes. 
 
 Are gathering now to the ball. 
 
 " Wee, wee, werry now," so the jubilee goes. 
 Some spin on their heads, others turn on their nose, 
 ^' Wee, wee, werry now," and they vanish away. 
 The devil "s broke loose, and all hell is at play. 
 
 TO JENNIE. 
 
 Poor child thou 'rt gone ! may heaven bless 
 The path on which thou seek'st to tread I 
 
 Though I no mc.o may thee caress, 
 I '11 dream of pleasures that are dead. 
 
To Jennie, 
 
 C9 
 
 I loved thee witli a tender care, 
 
 A virtue few men care to own, 
 And thoiigli thy love no more 1 ?ha]e, 
 
 This heart thou might'st have called thine own. 
 
 Rememberest thou those fleeting hours 
 When once I claimed thy fond embrace ? 
 
 Thou w(juldst not cease thy loving powers 
 Until I kissed thy pretty face. 
 
 And even then thou 'dst hold me still. 
 And oft would fall the gushing tear, 
 
 Nor woidd it cease to flow until 
 
 I fondly said '• good ni^ ht my dear."'*' 
 
 I think of thee unkindly, nay. 
 
 Though we may never meet again ; 
 
 Thy gentle heart I '11 fondly pray 
 Keflection may not touch with pain. 
 
 The bell tolls out the midnight hour, 
 
 And dreams of thee crowd o'er my sight ; 
 
 To help, since I 've no more the power, 
 I bid thee, dear, a long good night. 
 
iliil 
 
 70 
 
 MEDITATING DEATH. 
 
 And shall I die I ah die and leave the world, 
 And cast my soul to hell, to die again, 
 And vet to never die, hut live in death I 
 
 heaven preserve me in this awful hour. 
 From off my mortal eyes could I but lift 
 The veil, and see eternity imroU 
 
 The future of my endless being ! I pall 
 Before thee death, and bid my soul to stay. 
 Fearful uncertainty tells me to pause 
 And hesitate ere I do send thee forth 
 Into the eternal, awful and unknown. 
 I do remember how the holy man 
 Once taught me that a soul so rash would die 
 In hell, and hre woidd ere consume the one 
 Immortal spark which cannot be destroyed I 
 Stay yet my soul, I have thee caged, in one 
 Fell minute I could break thy prison bars 
 And set thee free ; that 's not the end, for lo, 
 
 1 could not then guide thee up to thy Grod, 
 For if thou leave not with this mortal dust 
 All thine imgodliness, and make thee clean 
 
 A I'd pure as light, thy weight of sins will drag 
 Thee down to direful and unending woe. 
 Ah me ! my soul would fain exist in one 
 Long, grand eternal night of this so calm, 
 Serene and tranquil loneness. No, no, I 
 
Meditating Death. 
 
 71 
 
 Can never brook the alternating day 
 And its distracting train of busy scenes, 
 But away to some fair region far 
 From all ungentleness and cruel tongues 
 Could I unfetter from this clay, I 'd wing 
 My glad released soul with buoyant ease 
 And lightness of a spirit that 's new born. 
 And soaring high, and wide and far away 
 As like when th' gentle and the timid dove 
 New habitation seeks, I 'd stay me not 
 Until I found a calm and peaceful rest. 
 
 And as I wander 'mongst those stellar orbs, 
 Methinks to poise me in th' ethereal air 
 And gaze with awe upon those systems huge 
 And grand. And soaring on and on by worlds 
 And vast world-systems increate, I 'd peer 
 Through distance widening far and far away. 
 And as I feel impulsive strength new gained 
 By eager fancies forming, I would flap 
 My lightsome pinions and up dart with speed 
 Of hope on wings ; and as the halo beams 
 From God's dominions fair, upon my gaze 
 My soul would pause, and with less speed approacli 
 The pure celestial light. Then as I near 
 And nearer draw, methinks to hear the sweet, 
 Soft strains which angels sing to heaven's Lord ; 
 And dulcet swells of sacred harmony 
 Sound forth from temples of Almighty God. 
 

 '2 
 
 Chaplelns Poems. 
 
 i| I 
 
 I 
 
 And us those mig'lity realms unveil before 
 
 My wondering sight, Jind on I go with bashed 
 
 And awful care, pellucid spirits there 
 
 iNIethinks to see on messages of love 
 
 ►Swift winging flight, while others soaring high 
 
 And far and wide sweet welcome ever sing 
 
 To all the new-born souls that from the earth 
 
 Do flee away. Now guided by those forms 
 
 80 pure, and fairer tlian the poet's muse, 
 
 Or old Greek sculptor's arts pourtray, I take 
 
 A grand survey of heaven's vast expanse. 
 
 And thus we wing our slow serial course 
 
 O'er sunny mountain and o'er fairy hill ; 
 
 By woods and gurgling brooks and blooming vales ; 
 
 'Mongst spicy groves and pleasant woodland shades ; 
 
 Along the stilly gliding streams that branch 
 
 In softly bid)l)ling rills o'er valleys wdde, 
 
 And widening far and far away, until 
 
 They blend witli plains of everlasting green. 
 
 Through dells and lawns and pleasant flowery 
 
 meads ; 
 By crystal formtains' banks of golden moss, 
 Where fair and lovely sylphs disport the time, 
 As pure and balmy odors breathing sweet. 
 And lyres attime to heaven's holy song. 
 While soft reclining on the buoyant air. 
 And round wliere'er the eye-delighted sense 
 May seek, there do arise such scenes of bliss 
 And love as yet unkenned by mortal dream. 
 
 J 
 
' j^^'W'm *,m$^s^^ 
 
 73 
 
 IN THE COLD WOKLI). 
 
 In the cold world I am wandering alone, 
 No one to comfort me now he is gone ; 
 My life is a bm'then, I sorrow and sigh ; 
 And ( ) I could lay me down gladly to die, 
 
 Flee from the world's disappointment and care. 
 
 Ah, little squirrel, would I were as thou. 
 Bounding with j^leasure from bramble to bough ; 
 Free from distress, without aught to endear ; 
 Knowing not love, nor its deep paining tear ; 
 Blind to life's ills, to the sadness I feel. 
 
 could I fly far away, far away 
 On angel wings to some heavenly day. 
 Where I no anguish nor sorrow should know. 
 Nor feel the depth of this bitterest woe ; [heal. 
 
 There balm a wound which the world cannot 
 
 'Neath the green turf I woidd lay myself low. 
 Where gentle breezes at eventime blow ; 
 Wliere the moon calmly broods o\er the shade, 
 Beams on the spot where I often have stayed. 
 
 Stayed with the one whom I trusted and loved. 
 
 Under the shamrock, there let me lie, 
 Where the sweet ripple runs silently by ; 
 lay me down on that hallowed spot 
 Unknown to the world, and for ever forgot. 
 By the dark soul that so cruel has proved. 
 
74 
 
 AT THE GRAVE. 
 
 I THERE sat down, for lone was I ; 
 And wept with many a bitter sigh ; 
 And I wished I there might die ; 
 F'or all the world was drear. 
 
 And as I wiped the tear away 
 Methought I lieard a whisper say — 
 " You still may hope, ah, that you may, 
 But none shall you endear." 
 
 I looked around, the sight was fair ; 
 The lark was singing in the air ; 
 
 he 'd a mate his life to share. 
 
 But never a friend had I. 
 
 1 gazed upon the little mound ; 
 (Some flowers were freshly laid around) 
 Where deep down in the cold, cold ground 
 
 There never swelled a sigh. 
 
 Said I, Somewhere there is a heart 
 Whose truthful impulse feels the start 
 That tells a love death cannot part 
 From one that love did own. 
 
 Ah me ! what sympathetic throes 
 Of pathos fill the hearts of those 
 Who feel and weep o'er others woes 
 
 When they themselves are lone! 
 
 ik^ 
 
75 
 
 HE NEVER CAN FORGIVE ME. 
 
 O WHO has grief like mine to bear ? 
 
 Alas that ever I was born ! 
 He leaves me in this wild despair, 
 
 And spurns my plea with bitter scorn. 
 He never can forgive me. 
 
 How happy were we once, but ah, 
 That time has gone, for ever past ; 
 
 His hope of life I did so mar. 
 And o'er his future gloom I cast. 
 
 The love that bound our hearts when young 
 But lost its grasp through misled fears, 
 
 And it would have firmer clung 
 
 And drowned its wrongfulness in tears. 
 
 But I must pine and sorrow deep. 
 
 Make sad my heart with many a sigh ; 
 
 And I shall grieve and lonely weep, 
 Grrow pallid, wither, droop and die. 
 
 Co:ae peaceful rest in darksome tomb. 
 Closed up for ever out of sight ; 
 
 Spread o'er me, death, thy tranquil gloom, 
 world, adieu ! a sad good night ; 
 He never can forgive me. 
 
 y 
 
7tf 
 
 DARKEST 8()UL I 
 
 DARKEST soul, for ever go, 
 
 80 utter base, so vile, so low ; 
 
 My heart witliin me (juails to know 
 
 That love can be thus shaiAiiued t 
 me, that man should give his mind 
 To aught so subtle and refined 
 
 In torments for the damned ! 
 
 The tears run wildly from my eye. 
 Emotion chokes the swelling sigli. 
 My peace, my hope, all with thee die ; 
 
 Would that I were unborn ! 
 What depth of anguish, what pain ; 
 What dire forebodings crowd my brain ! 
 
 Indeed I am forlorn. 
 
 Thou said thou would'st my sorrows share, 
 And strive to lighten ♦^^very care, 
 My toils of life would'st help to bear 
 
 But thou art false as hell I 
 what a stolid, faithless soul ! 
 Thine heart haw cold, how dead, how foul * 
 
 Thy mind how dark and fell ! 
 
 Alas ! but I had never known 
 
 A thing that hath so fulsome grown , 
 
 would remembrance bid thee gone 
 
 And thoughts of thee were dead !! 
 
Darkest Soul. 
 
 77 
 
 Alas I thou 'rt fixed \v'ithin my soul, 
 And hack to thee my mind will roll 
 WiDeu age o'er age hatli Hed ! 
 
 T thought to roam o'er heaven with thee, 
 And mused how happy we should be — 
 As I lo\e her so she loves me — 
 
 Alas, thy cold, black heart ! 
 Go hide thy shameless face, recoil 
 Back quick to hell, for its turmoil 
 
 Will better suit thine art. 
 
 ( ) subtlest form of dire conceit ; 
 
 To walk with demons thou art meet; 
 
 Thy wily cant they oft repeat 
 
 And yell for more display. 
 Most pious was thy strict contoiu-, 
 And fitted thus my soul to allure. 
 
 Led my fond heart astray. 
 
 loathsome thing thou 'st done it well; 
 Being versed in all the lore of hell, 
 Thou work'st a trick as dark and fell 
 
 As Satan e'er designed. 
 When life was sweetest, and my heart 
 "Was full of peace, thou hurld'st thy dart 
 
 And to my fixte consigned- 
 
il 
 
 Inf 7m 
 
 78 Chapleiii'a Poem». 
 
 1 bid adieu to such dry clay, 
 
 And leave tliee till some future day 
 
 SI Kill lay thy conscience bare to slay 
 
 Thy mis-shaped, ugly soul. 
 Take in thy fill of fiendish joy 
 Thou trashy wretch, thou foul alloy, 
 
 And hasten to thy goal. 
 
 i|ll! 
 
 GONE TO DECAY. 
 
 The windows are covered with ivy and mould, 
 And the creepers grow high on the wall ; 
 
 The weather-vane moans in its socket of old 
 And a loneliness dwells in the hall. 
 
 The cold wintry winds seem to mourn o'er the spot 
 That 's now dreary, forsaken, and lone. 
 
 And sigh for the dear ones long dead and forgot 
 As they rest 'neath the moss-covered stone. 
 
 The owl nightly whoops in the chambers so bare,. 
 
 Other tenants, alas, are no more ; 
 Gone, gone to decay, desolation is there. 
 
 And the revels and feasts are now o'er. 
 
 The fair ones are dead, and the sweet songs of love 
 ^^'ith the lovers are all passed away ; 
 
 No more may the minstrel be heard in the grove 
 Nor the harper at even to play» 
 
 imi jii 
 
It was the Hour of Parii7i(j, Love. 79 
 
 Gone, gone, all is gone, and the still shaded walk 
 Is with bramble and brier overgrown ; 
 
 The sweet-scented bowers where lovers might talk, 
 Plight their vows in the fragrance alone. 
 
 The place is decayed and its glory is gone, 
 And a gloom broodeth over the scene ; 
 
 Soon gulphed in the past, and the only thing known 
 Is the name of what once there had been. 
 
 IT WAS THE HOUR OF PARTING, LOVE. 
 
 I ONCE sat in a valley where 
 
 The fluttering aspens whisper low ; 
 
 Where beech and elm rise high in air, 
 And darkening laurels thickly grow. 
 
 The cirrus clouds in silver wreath 
 
 Engarland o'er the heavens fair ; 
 While all the world sublime beneath 
 
 Reposed from its toil and care. 
 
 The moon full shone o'er wood and hill, 
 And twinkling stars smiled from above ; 
 
 Around me all was calm and still ; 
 It was the hour of parting love. 
 
 ji 
 
 I 
 
80 
 
 Chaplein'8 Poems. 
 
 As there I mused, my heart was stirred 
 To hear a deep and hollow moan : 
 
 It could not ))e of beast nor bird 
 For 't was so human in its tone. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I listened, and again the sound 
 
 Kose up from some dark cavern deep ; 
 
 Where waters ffusli with many a bound 
 From crag to crag, from steep to steep. 
 
 Deep down where torrents boil and roar, 
 And foaming floods roll in between ; 
 
 Where angry waters dash the shore 
 And roll to gulphs deep, dark, unseen. 
 
 Aye, 'mongst those crags where th' herons shriek, 
 The drear and lonesome nighthawk's cry 
 
 In long shrill echoes round the creek, 
 Till lingering i lost in th' lofty sky, 
 
 I saw a form with feeble strength 
 ]Moimt high and far a rocky steep ; 
 
 Ledge after ledge, until at length 
 
 Quite wearied, stumbled, and did weep. 
 
 how she grieved ! my feeble breast 
 
 May feel it, but it cannot tell 
 The deep, dark wofulness that pressed 
 
 Her tender feelings down to hell. 
 
It was the Hour of Parting^ Love. 81 
 
 iek. 
 
 " Somewhere lie lies cold, dead and lone, 
 iNIay be on some bleak rock al)o\e, 
 
 Or in some chasm deep, unknown. 
 () heaven guide me to my love I 
 
 Alas I it Wfs not mine to pay 
 
 The last dear tribute of my care ; 
 
 To keep, to fondly watch, to pray, 
 
 His pain to soothe, his death t(; share. 
 
 I 've wandered here alone to seek 
 The one dear treasure of my heart ; 
 
 Now I am lost, and death doth speak 
 In rocks huge gaping wide apart. 
 
 Ah me I life is a fitful dream. 
 
 We know not what a day may ell ; 
 
 Though peace shines forth her fairy beam 
 Deep anguisli soon may all dispel. 
 
 I look it thee moon, for oft 
 
 In rapture full the tear hath flov> n 
 
 When gazing on thy beam so soft. 
 Calm falling in the glade and lone, 
 
 I bid thee now a long farewell ; 
 
 My spirit seeks some far off clime ; 
 A land of peace the good men tell. 
 
 Of rest that is imknown to time." 
 
82 
 
 
 THE EVENING STAR IS WEEPING. 
 
 Thf: evening star is weeping 
 
 Over where you 're sleeping 
 So silent und so lonely in the old church mound. 
 
 The twilight lingers long 
 
 As birds of sweetest song 
 In happy chorus charm the hills and vales around. 
 
 Those fields how sweet to view 
 When I could walk with you 
 And watch this same fond twilight falling soft and 
 calm ; 
 What bliss we felt my love, 
 In yonder woods to rove, 
 And tell our happy thoughts in breathings pure and 
 warm. 
 
 But now I sit alone. 
 
 For darling, you are gone ; 
 Gone to that happy land from whence your spirit 
 came ; 
 
 Alone I weep and sigh, 
 
 And wish I too might die, 
 As fondly do I breathe your dearly treasured name. 
 
 Old memory fain will dwell 
 Long, long in yonder dell, 
 Where oft we 've sat together 'neath the holly tree ; 
 

 / feel it ivould he Sweet to Die. 
 
 83 
 
 
 And as I look around 
 The dear familiar ground, 
 What thrills of horrid loneuess chill me, Emilv I 
 
 The birds sing soft and sweet, 
 
 And flowers about my feet 
 Bloom smilingly again and look so fresh and ftiir ; 
 
 I close my eyes and pray 
 
 And dream myself away 
 Back to those happy hours when you were with me 
 there. 
 
 Soon may the old church ]>ell 
 
 Weep out his doleful knell ; 
 May soon I come to thee where sorrow is no more. 
 
 't is bliss to know 
 
 That all this silent woe 
 The >itter pains and ills of life ere long will all be 
 o'er. 
 
 I FEEL IT WOULD BE SWEET TO DIE. 
 
 Ah little fly, what bliss serene 
 
 Thou feelest sporting inongst the flowers ! 
 Upon the verdant, fragrant green 
 
 Thou spendest all thine happy hours. 
 
» 
 
 u 
 
 t 
 
 84 Chajjleiu's Poems. 
 
 Thou teel'st a joy imknown to me, 
 A blindness shields thee from all care 
 
 !My sorrows are miknown to thee, 
 
 While thy short life is sweet and fair- 
 
 Unlike this strange fond heing, man. 
 Aspiring for some inane toy ; 
 
 Thy world is all within thy scan. 
 With uouglit to wish, but all enjoy. 
 
 Wliy was I not ephemeral born, 
 
 dupe of woman's sidjtle art ? 
 AVliy should I suffer this low scorn 
 
 And yet refuse from her to part ? 
 
 Ah why, Sun, dost thou still tell 
 The matin hour and vesper time ? 
 
 Then how fond hope can I dispel ? 
 For what we love is hard t' resign. 
 
 There is a spell that seems to chain 
 And bind our fond affection there ; 
 
 And as we yield in bitter pain 
 
 Hope fiiin would conquer our despair. 
 
 The seasons come, the seasons go, 
 
 And still I breathe the heavy sigh ; 
 No ^ eam of love to chase my woe, 
 
 1 feel it v.'ould be sweet to die. 
 
S5 
 
 SOXNET. 
 
 Farewell, farewell, I'll ne'er forget thee: 
 
 (jrrief weiglis down my spirits low, 
 Gloom deep and dark around besets me ; 
 
 my heart, I 'm sick of woe. 
 I did love thee, aye I love thee, 
 
 Though thou 'rt fsilse, a phantom fair ; 
 How little did it take to prove thee 
 
 Void of feeling, without care I 
 Couldst thou know this weight of anguish. 
 
 Tell my sorrow, feel the sigh I 
 hapless wretch I 'm doomed to languish, 
 
 Droop dejected, pine and die. 
 He called me fair, his darling one. 
 
 And now he lea\ es me all alone. 
 
 BINNAR AND EMILY. 
 
 Afric's sandy plains do burn 
 With heat most dread and dire ; 
 
 There scorching winds and sandy clouds 
 Rush o'er the tropic fire. 
 
 There rivers do not meander 'long 
 Through valleys fair and green ; 
 
II ill! 
 
 86 Chajjlein's Poems. 
 
 The desert is one lonely wild 
 Where verdure ne'er is seen. 
 
 The eye may gaze for miles around, 
 But never eye that waste shall bound, 
 
 Nor aught its bounds shall stay. 
 
 The mirage in the distance tells 
 Of phantom brooks and lovely dells, 
 And as the vision grander swells 
 
 It vanishes away. 
 
 'T was o'er a desert such as this 
 
 P^'or life a traveller fled ; 
 In hope to 'scape from cruel death 
 
 His wife too with him sped. 
 They bare a simple store of food, 
 
 Sufficient for the day ; 
 Alas, the wife was sore fatigued, 
 And faltered by the way. 
 
 'T was fatal. " We are lost," she cried, 
 " See far the desert opening wide ; 
 The sun to noon has reached. 
 
 My feet are Ijurnt and blistered o'er, 
 My body 's all one burning sore. 
 And nothing can I see before 
 But sand and sand-hills bleached." 
 
 He gave his share of drink to her 
 And tried to help her on, 
 
 !|Mi 
 
Binnar amd Emily, 
 
 87 
 
 But soon lie found to his dismay 
 
 That all her strength was gone. 
 She fell into his arms and said — 
 
 " Binnar, fly I fly I 
 If you have strength, speed o'er the plain 
 And leave me here to die. 
 
 If but one step my life would sn,ve 
 I could not move, here make my grave 
 For quickly I shall die. 
 
 Binnar, what are those I eee 
 In Heaven's glorious canopy I 
 They 're Angels coming down to me 
 To take my soul on high. 
 
 I see them in yon upper land, 
 
 In fair and grand array ; 
 They beckon to me as I gaze, 
 
 And call my soul away. 
 They're singing in the plen^ant vales 
 
 Where streamlets gently flow, 
 And fountains spor^ o'er grassy meads : 
 thither let us go ! 
 
 beauteous angels ! hear them sing ! 
 How grandly do their voices ring 
 Expansive in the sky ! 
 
 The luscious vines how thick they grow I 
 How sweet the gurgling brooklets flow 
 Through flowery valleys, winding, slov7, 
 By mountains towering high ! " 
 

 ifl 'i 
 
 88 Chaplein'a Poems. 
 
 She said no more, but gently sighed, 
 
 Tlien breathed a feeble breath ; 
 Still Binnar held her in his arms. 
 
 But he clasped but death ; 
 O'ertilled witli grief he pressed lier liand. 
 
 And tried, but could not speak. 
 Then kissed the deathly tears away 
 Tliat lingered on her cheek. 
 
 Tlie bitter task must now be done, 
 To hide lier from the blazing sun 
 He souglit to scratch a grave. 
 
 But 0, as on the ground he crept. 
 The lieated sands all o'er him swept ; 
 In wild despair he sat and wept, 
 And yelled a madman's rave. 
 
 He looked around, away and far. 
 
 And gr(^aned an inward prayer ; 
 Then gazed upon her corpse, and said — 
 
 " My heart, my heart is there." 
 And then liis mind flew o'er the sea 
 
 Towards his native land, 
 And with the dream still on his soul 
 
 He knelt and took her hand. 
 
 " And must [ say good bye," said he, 
 " JMy dear and gentle Emily, 
 And leave tliee all alone ? 
 
Lillie Vaughan, 
 
 89 
 
 pt; 
 
 And must I say farewell, my heart ! 
 never ! no, we will not part. 
 My only joy on eartli thou art ; 
 God ! I am undone I" 
 
 He took the flagon from his belt, 
 
 And placed it to her lip, 
 He slaked her parched tongue, and said — 
 
 " Alas, she does not sip ! 
 Her gentle heart its work has done, 
 
 'T is still, her life has fled ; 
 And here am I now all alone, 
 My Emily is dead !" 
 
 How deeply were his feelings moved 
 As gazing on the form he loved 
 And moaning, stroked her hair ! 
 
 He cast his eyes o'er deserts wide. 
 And seeing hope had vanished, sighed, 
 Then fell beside her corpse and died, 
 And thus her death did share. 
 
 he, 
 
 LILLIE VAUOHAN. 
 
 Lillie Vaughan, Lillie Yaughan, how I joy to* 
 
 behold 
 Thy love speaking eyes and thy ringlets of gold ; 
 Not the world can afford other pleasure to me 
 As to love and be loved my sweet Lillie by thee. 
 
 Q 
 
Ill 
 
 90 
 
 Ghaplein's Poems. 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 ( 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ' 1 ' 
 
 if 
 
 -i^ 
 
 i. 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 All my life is as light and as free as the air, 
 
 For my Lillie and I we have no other care 
 
 Than to dream through the night of the sweetness 
 
 of love, 
 And to tell o'er the raptui-e our future shall prove. 
 
 Yes, my Lillie has lips which the pink nor the rose 
 In their balmy retreats where the sweetest repose, 
 €an afford the sweet fragrance, the touch nor the 
 
 hue 
 I receive in the kiss of my Lillian true. 
 
 '0 my sweet, pretty Lillie, I love her so well 
 'That I have not expression my fondness to tell ; 
 .And it is not a passion but lasting a day. 
 But a love that will never, never decay. 
 
 1 recline on her breast of an evening alone. 
 And she calls me her love, and I call her my own, 
 By the light of the love in her eye I can see 
 That her heart beats with fondest affection for me. 
 
 Lillie Vaughan, Lillie Vaughan, how I joy to behold 
 Thy love speaking eyes and thy ringlets of gold. 
 Not the world can afford other pleasure to me 
 -As to love and be loved, my sweet Lillie by thee. 
 
 
91 
 
 O KISS ME MOTHER ERE I DIE. 
 
 O KISS me mother ere I die, 
 
 It is the only boon I crave ; 
 Forgive me mother, soon I'll lie 
 
 In yonder church-yard silent grave. 
 
 I've sinned and I have suffered, aye 
 The pangs of deep remorse and shame, 
 
 In one dark hour I went astray. 
 But, mother, am I all to blame ? 
 
 He told me all alluring things 
 
 My simple heart and trust to gain ; 
 
 But with what vice and pleasure brings, 
 He did not tell me of this pain. 
 
 Despise me not, I am your own, 
 
 Once nurtured with your fondest care ; 
 
 O leave me not to die alone ; 
 
 My mother, mother, heed my prayer. 
 
 My soul now yearns to fly away 
 From all this bitter grief and woe ; 
 
 Some kindly, gentle word say. 
 And let my broken spirit go. 
 

 
 
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 92 Chaplein's Poems: 
 
 It will not leave you motlier dear 
 Until you soothe my breaking hearty 
 
 Until you speak a word to cheer 
 It will not, will not from you part. 
 
 My God forgives me, and does call 
 My soul to live with Him on high. 
 
 But 0! till you forgive me all 
 I feel I cannot, cannot die ! 
 
 
 MY SAILOR GIRL. 
 
 Have you seen my pretty t^ailor girl ? 
 
 I tell you what, she 's fine ; 
 She says she has not got a beau 
 
 And that she will be mine. 
 
 Her form is slender, not too tall, 
 
 Her mein is debonair ; 
 She does not wear a Grecian bend 
 
 Nor fixings in her hair. 
 
 She has a little nose, just what 
 
 A lady's nose should be ; 
 A set of teeth as white as foam 
 
 That glistens on the sea. 
 
My Sailor Girl. 
 
 Her waist is not too stout nor slim, 
 Nor bound with stays and bands, 
 
 But supple as her rounded arms. 
 And soft and lily hands. 
 
 Her cheeks are soft-er than the rose, 
 And just as fair to view ; ' 
 
 And from her honeysuckle lips 
 I kiss the honey dew. 
 
 Her eyes ! how can I describe 
 Those coal black gems of fire! 
 
 Those rubies piercing through my heart. 
 Those kindlers of desire ! 
 
 She wears a little sailor hat 
 
 With streamers flying blue; 
 And from the gentle words she breathe^, 
 
 I think she will be true. 
 
 ^O have you seen my .sailor girl? 
 
 I tell you what, she's fine; 
 :She says she has not got a beau 
 
 And that slie will be mine. 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 'sSS^RT 
 
94 
 
 THE HAUNTEB CAVE. 
 
 I THOUGHT I heard a whisper in 
 
 My chamber as I lay, 
 And a ghastly form of aged woe 
 
 Was beckoning me away, — 
 " Young man I bid thee follow me 
 
 Nor in this chamber stay." 
 
 I followed far the spectral form 
 
 Through coppice, glen and \vold ; 
 I scarcely knew my soul to breathe 
 
 Nor felt the biting cold, 
 But wondered what the- eager ghost 
 
 Would unto me unfold, — 
 Some crime of eM, a bleached corse. 
 
 Perhaps a hoard of gold. 
 
 It spake no words but " follow me," 
 
 Nor did it turn its head ; 
 But through the stream, o'er lake and felB 
 
 The phantom noiseless sped ; 
 And as I followed, followed on 
 
 My soul was filled with dread ; 
 Nor did I heed the wounding thorn s^ 
 
 Nor feel my footstep's tread* 
 
 ^1 i 
 
The Haunted Cave, 
 
 " follow, follow, follow me," 
 
 It muttered oft and low ; 
 I knew not how it moved along 
 
 So strangely did it go. 
 As like the solar beam that glides 
 
 When Summer breezes blow. 
 
 The moon was shining bright and high 
 With dark clouds looming roimd, 
 
 And ugly shadows seemed to fall 
 Upon the ghostly ground, 
 
 As 'long by hoary timbers tall 
 The mystic path I wound. 
 
 We reached at length a rocky cave 
 O'ergrown with brier and thorn, 
 
 Where pallid moonbeams grimly fell 
 'Tween fissures old an4 worn. 
 
 To horrid chasms gaping wide 
 By earth's upheavings torn. 
 
 It led me on through crumbling caves 
 
 Of ancient death and cold ; 
 I shuddered with an awful dread 
 
 Grod, there to behold 
 Six wearied shadows of the past 
 
 In conclave, as of old 
 We tell of robbers meting out 
 
 There dole of bloody gold. 
 
 95 
 
II 
 
 96 Chajplein^s Poems, 
 
 " Hail ! Hail ! " Then up to welkin height 
 
 There went a thrilling cry, 
 " Hail ye," replied my spectral friend, 
 
 Then all at once a sigh 
 Fell from each shadow of the past 
 
 Like zephyrs when they die. 
 
 
 The form" that took me from my bed 
 
 Bade me to fear no ill; 
 But listen to the shades of death 
 
 Who whispered all with hollow breath 
 Words that my heart did thrill. 
 
 " Young man," said one of tender years, 
 
 " Thou seest these heaps of bones ; 
 Those hollow skulls, those broken limbs 
 
 That moulder on these stones, 
 Are but the skeletons of we 
 
 Who nightly tell our moans, 
 And mourn our fate and curse the wretch 
 
 Who heard our dying groans. 
 We cannot rest till he is caught 
 
 And for our blood atc_as." 
 Then all sighed deep the heavy curse 
 
 " Till he our blood atones." 
 
 
 " G-o forth and take no rest nor sleep 
 Until the wretch be found ; 
 
 ■:'im!m'Mwmi^tm.-' 
 
it 
 
 The Haunted Cave. 
 
 Cease not the search if you should go 
 The whole wide world around. 
 
 Behold my breast and view tliis foul, 
 This deep and ugly wound," 
 
 Then all did sigh, " Behold this foul, 
 This deep and ugly wound." 
 
 " Our murderer lured us here by night. 
 
 To ravish at his will ; 
 And when his foul desire was o'er 
 
 To torture and to kill ; 
 And if we did not haunt this cave 
 
 He would be at it still. 
 
 Bury Qur bones beneath those stones 
 
 Bury them deep and low ; 
 And then to earth we '11 come no more, 
 
 At night to tell our woe ; 
 But to the grim abode of death 
 
 We will for ever go. 
 
 Hark ! The thunder peals aloud 
 
 And tells us to away, 
 Be not afraid, but stay thou here 
 
 Until the break of day. 
 And ponder well these our commands. 
 
 And see that thou obey. 
 
 My spirit e'er will be thy guide. 
 Nor will it leave thy sight ; 
 
 97 
 
 a 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 98 Chaplein's Poems, 
 
 By day I '11 be at thy right arm 
 And dwell with thee at night, 
 
 Until the monster 's crushed to earth 
 And buried from our sight." 
 
 Then up arose those shades of night, 
 Each pointing to its breast ; 
 
 And as they vanished slow away 
 My soul was deep oppressed 
 
 With horror, terror and affright, 
 And sighed for home and rest. 
 
 My heart gave out, I swooned and fell 
 Amongst those loathsome bones. 
 
 And as I lay I seemed to hear 
 The sound of dying moans, 
 
 And anguished sighs and piercing cries, 
 And agonising groans 
 
 I fain would rise and flee away, 
 From out that horrid cell. 
 
 But as I raised my head I saw 
 As if in burning Hell 
 
 A female pointing to a man 
 God ! whom I knew well. 
 
 " That is the man, that is the man," 
 
 It said with iixed eye ; 
 " Go root the villain from the earth 
 
 For he shall surely die, 
 
The Haunted Cave. 
 
 Though he to earth's untravelled bounds 
 With speed of light sliould fly. 
 
 Now mark him ! Mark him shun my gaze 
 
 And turn away his head ; 
 And note the murderer's hirking eye, 
 
 The coward's fear and dread, 
 At seeing one so foully slain 
 
 Uprisen from the dead. 
 
 Behold the scowl. upon his brow, 
 The fear, the trembling start ; 
 
 The sudden pause, the anxious glance 
 That guilty deeds impart, 
 
 And see those gory hands that drew 
 The wr blood from my heart." 
 
 It vanishf ., and as there I lay, 
 O'ercome with dread and fear, 
 
 I heard a sound of mourning 
 And it nearer came and near. 
 
 When with a low and stifled voice 
 It whispered in my ear — 
 
 99 
 
 a 
 
 Bury our bones beneath these stones. 
 
 Bury them deep and low ; 
 And then to earth we '11 come no more 
 
 At night to tell our woe, 
 But to the grim abode of death 
 
 We will for ever go." 
 
ii 
 
 100 €haplein^8 Poems. 
 
 And then I seemed to hear the sounds 
 Of wild and ))loody strife, 
 
 ..A shriek, a howl, as in despair 
 The victim yields its life; 
 
 A gasp, a deep convulsive tiiroe, 
 And fall of bloody knife. 
 
 Thus lay I in that mouldering tomb 
 
 Until the break of day, 
 "When at the first faint dctwn I sought 
 
 To flee in haste away, 
 Nor did I in that dreadful place 
 
 One moment longer stay. 
 
 The spectre haunts me, then I walk, 
 
 It is close by my side ; 
 Upon the lawn at night I see 
 
 It slow and steady glide; 
 The ghastly form I see it now 
 
 Nor from it can I hide. 
 
 It beckons, beckons, beckons me, ^ 
 And points towards the dell. 
 
 As if 'twould have me there to go. 
 That it some tale might tell 
 
 ■Of broken vows, and guilty deeds 
 And murders dark and fell. 
 
 'That awful form, how shall I tear 
 The vision from my eye ! 
 
Tfte Hermifa Meditatiaii. 
 
 Wlieu in my bed alone I hear 
 It breathe its languid sigh, 
 
 And sob and moan in deepest grief, 
 And piteoiisly to cry. 
 
 Alas, it will not leave my sight ; 
 
 By night and day 't is there. 
 The same sad, pensive countenance 
 
 So worn with grief and care. 
 Still gazes with those horrid eyes 
 
 And rends me with despair. 
 
 101 
 
 THE HERMIT'S MEDITATION. 
 
 'T WAS autumn time when leaves fall fast, 
 
 And summer beauties fly; 
 When trees and flowers meet the blast. 
 
 Droop in the gloom and die : 
 When woods are lonely and the breeze 
 Flits drearly 'mongst the naked trees 
 
 And the aspens lonely sigh. 
 
 'T was from the toil of busy men 
 
 I let my spirit stray. 
 To seek some deep and shady glen 
 
 Where Sylvan com-ts his Fay ; 
 
102 ChapleiTi'a Poems. 
 
 To tliink and meditate alone, 
 And list old Autumn sigh his moan 
 Amongst trees hoar and gray. 
 
 To feel ones-self alone and lost 
 
 As the night winds fiercely blow, 
 
 Or sigh for the mariner ocean tossed 
 Is a pleasure none can knov, 
 
 But tliose who have a heart to deal 
 
 With others sorrows and to feel 
 The pangs of bitter woe. 
 
 It is a deep, a deep felt bliss 
 
 My heart hath long since known, 
 
 To feel for the poor at a time like this 
 And sit all sad and lone ; 
 
 ' Tis then I teach myself to care 
 
 For ill-used man and learn to share 
 The gi'iefs to which he 's prone. 
 
 I wandered 'long a winding brook 
 
 That led me far away. 
 The Sun his course o'er ocean took 
 
 For ' t was the close of day. 
 As down the main he slowly rode. 
 The rocks that bound the mighty flood 
 
 Were glittering as the spray. 
 
 He thus, the glorious orb supreme 
 
 In lustrous brilliance shone full grand ; 
 
" *.J , 1 ^ ' 
 
 The Hermiea MedUation, 103 
 
 The billows caught his golden beam, 
 
 And his radiance fell all o'er the land. 
 No bird a-uigh but sung his praise, 
 Nor flower nor shrub that caught his rays, 
 But kissed his beamings bland. 
 
 I did but hear the warbler's song 
 
 Rise up the deep and shady dell, 
 
 In answer to the deep and long 
 
 Soft whispers that the sea-nymphs tell, 
 
 Or liquid lips of Syren's lone 
 
 Mingling with their languished moan 
 The deep, great hum of ocean's swell. 
 
 I sat me down and watched the night 
 Fall softly o'er the peaceful scene ; 
 
 Things one by one fell from my sight 
 
 As stars looked from the clouds between. 
 
 Each chorist now had told his tale ; 
 
 The moon arose and o'er the vale 
 Shed forth her silver sheen. 
 
 As there I sat enwrapt in thought 
 
 I heard the hermit tell his prayer. 
 And speak of things that he had sought 
 
 Lut had relinquished in despair; 
 Disgusted with the faults of men 
 He sought this deep secluded glen 
 
 To free himself from worldly care. 
 
104 
 
 Chajplem's Poems, 
 
 There in liis cave at night alone, 
 While sitting near the holy well 
 
 He'd breathe his sighs to all unknown, 
 Save but the saint within his cell. 
 
 And thus this hoary gray haired man 
 
 His descant on the world began. 
 
 And calmly o'er his thoughts did tell: 
 
 m If ! 
 
 'Roll on, roll on, thou guardian of the night. 
 Thou silver beaming, fairy faithful moon, 
 How calmly falls thy fond and gentle Learn 
 Sweet smiling on the waters of the sea. 
 When all is hushed, and soft and calm repose 
 Broods o'er the sylvan vale, and not a sound 
 I heard to mar the deep serenity. 
 Save but the trickling of the wandering rill, 
 How I do feast my mind with silent thought, 
 And let my spirit soar up far away. 
 To where thou dwellest in thy tranquil sphere! 
 
 Alas, but what a tale thou couidst unfold 
 If speech were given thee that thou might'st tell 
 What thou hast seen since first the world began. 
 What scenes of woe thou nightly hast beheld, 
 "Vtliat dark intrigues of vile and loveless souls, 
 What bitter weeping in the lonely glen 
 Of maids bereft of all their earthly pride ; 
 What murders dire and bloody villiany ! 
 
 fair eternal moon, in this my cave 
 
B§ 
 
 The HevTiiifa Meditation. 
 
 105 
 
 
 e! 
 
 ell 
 
 I nightly sit and let my mind iDok down 
 With thee, pale witness of the silent night, 
 Upon the world and view the varied scenes 
 That e'er do meet thy soft and fondling beam. 
 
 sad, sad world, I have no part in thee 
 Save but to watch the moonbeams play at night 
 Upon the ceaseless roll of yonder waves. 
 That here do lap and plash upon the beach, 
 Then backward roll to some fair eastern clime 
 To kiss the pearls upon a coral shore. 
 I watch that wave roll on, roll on, until 
 'T is spent upon the sand and then recoil 
 With sullen lapse, and back it goes again 
 To lose itself upon that awful deep. 
 
 And so it is with man, he feels his strength 
 And in the height of power doth fearless ride 
 Upon the tide of fortune, till alas. 
 He sudden dashes on the shore of fate. 
 Then back subsides into that powerless thing 
 As first he sprung, and soon forgot is lost 
 Upon the vast and mighty sea of life. 
 How many times, moon, hast thou beheld 
 The crush of woe fall on the human soul ! 
 In how many varied forms too hast 
 Thou seen those woes unburthened on the heart 
 Of human kind that never rose again ! 
 
 Alas, ye sons of men, look now with me. 
 Behold that wife, lone weeping for the man 
 
106 
 
 Gha^flein's Poems. 
 
 I 
 
 ^ho pledged his love and ever watchful care, 
 But who is now besotted deep with vice, 
 Regardless of his children, wife and home. 
 Look in at yonder broken pane and see 
 How Lunar fondly spreads her pale lone mantle 
 O'er thoge so wan and pallid cheeks, and mark 
 'The trembling aspect of the slumbering babe ! 
 See how it shivers in the dank cold room. 
 Upon a bed of straw it lies, with naught 
 To shield it from the keen and biting cold 
 But its poor mother's garments, ragged and worn, 
 While through the lonesome streets with broken 
 
 heart 
 And mind o'erfilled with bitter grief and pain 
 The mother paces with distraction wild 
 To find the author of her ruined home, 
 Her dying child and deep and life-long woe. 
 See how she pauses by the tavern door; 
 Hark I he is there carousing in his glee. 
 And urging on some vile besotted wretch 
 To give another song. Upon the board 
 The old brown jug he taps and calls aloud, 
 '" Come, misses, bring anothei quart of ale." 
 Alas, ye saddest of all womankind 
 That have to battle with a fate like this ! 
 Poor trembling thing, see how she silent weeps 
 -And bitter sobs that ever she was born. 
 iShe fears to go within that loathsome den 
 
 jail 
 flit 
 
The Hermit's Meditation. 
 
 107 
 
 But yet she must; and so with trembling step 
 And blush of shame upon her grief-worn face 
 She enters slow, but falters as she steps 
 Within the room to meet the gaze of those 
 Who wink and nod and o'er her errand jest. 
 poor distressed thing, she turns away 
 Amid the ribald jests that meet her ears 
 And hies her to her desolate home 
 To drown her wounded soul in deepest woe 
 And build the melancholy of her days : 
 "0 Grod!" she cries, as by the bed she kneels 
 Where sleeps her babe unconscious of her grief, 
 "0 Heaven spare my dear, my darling child. 
 What shall I do to find it food and warmth. 
 Alas the thought rends through my troubled heart, 
 My child, my child, how shall I find it food." 
 
 Ah faithful moon how I delight 
 
 To watch thee through the starry night 
 
 Illume my lonely cell I 
 While deep within the silent vale 
 I hear the chanting nightingale 
 
 Her sweetness to thee tell. 
 
 That I may be prepared to die 
 My body I do mortify 
 
 Six times within a day, 
 And when I feel the tempter near 
 
108 
 
 Ghajjlein^a Poems, 
 
 The flesh upon my bones T tear 
 And drive the fiend away. 
 
 At early morn I to the wood 
 
 And gather barks and herbs for food 
 
 Which my good Saint L tli sent ; 
 As I have not long to abide 
 In this sad world I'm satisfied 
 
 And feel a sweet content. 
 
 Vile men look on me with disdain 
 Asceticism they think is vain, 
 
 Alas what fools are they! 
 This life that 's given us to prepare 
 To live in other worlds more fair 
 
 They fritter slow away 
 
 In vice and pleasures that do bring 
 Upon their trail the loathsome sting 
 
 That pains the guilty soul; 
 And at the close of life's short day 
 The debt of sin they have to pay 
 
 So sink unto their goal. 
 
 What sweet contentment do I feel 
 As to my Saint T humbly kneel 
 
 And all my failings tell! 
 A world of pleasures and of bliss 
 My soul would not exchange for this 
 
 My cave by the holy well. 
 
109 
 
 AGAIN MUST THE TEAR FALL IN SORROW 
 
 AND SADNESS, 
 
 Again must the tear fall in sorrow and sadness? 
 Again must my heart feel that cold, blighted 
 thrill? 
 Again must I suffer this lone inward madness, 
 And will thou thus grieve me strange Eveline 
 still? 
 
 My heart grows aweary of time and its measure. 
 My soul's bitter pang knoweth not a relief; 
 
 The object I sought as my life's fondest treasure 
 Deserts me in sorrow and laughs at my grief. 
 
 had I the wings of Aurora, fond beaming 
 
 Her gold on the hills at the blush of the morn, 
 I'd flee far away to the sphere of my dreaming 
 And fain would forget that I was of Earth born. 
 
 I've nowhere to go where a kind welcome greeting 
 Would flush with emotion the full tear from my 
 eye; 
 
 1 know not the heart that 's in sympathy Ideating, 
 Nor is there a soul that shall breathe me a sigh. 
 
 Thus lonely I ve wandered from life's early morning 
 And vainly have sighed for thy heart to be true; 
 
 I banish thee, still the fond impulse returning 
 Fresh warms cherished feelings, I love thee anew. 
 
no 
 
 GliajplehCs Poem». 
 
 i 
 
 Thine heart is unkind, unimpassioned and frozen, 
 That cannot he melted by love's warmest vow ; 
 
 Alas but a soul more congenial I'd chosen. 
 Instead of a thing so unloving as thou. 
 
 Gro pray for thy soul, and spare me this anguish,, 
 Nor ask me to know as a friend and no more, 
 
 The one at whose loss I must silently languish. 
 And sigh for the peace that earth cannot restore. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Spring again has come, luxuriant and beautiful. 
 Placid, calm, serene, delightful and so fair. 
 Breaths of fragrant flowers float in every air ; 
 Birds do carol sweet, and happy seem and blest. 
 Sol in glory rides on his course ever dutiful, 
 Grrandly falls away and sinks him in the west. 
 Insects dance and sing, and the breezes gently play 
 Among the leaflets green, and the happy, live-long 
 
 day 
 Is to all unchequered peace. 
 But yet it has no charm for me, 
 I may not feel the joy I see. 
 Share never in the bliss. 
 
 There seemeth naught to wish, but ah ! I have a call. 
 One, one thing is wanting, yet that one thing is alh 
 

 Ill 
 
 SHE COMETH TO THE GRAVE. 
 
 At fall of the even' a maid cometh ever 
 To visit the grave where lier lover is laid ; 
 
 A tie there is binding which death cannot sever, 
 A bond that in secret and silence was made. 
 
 She kneels at the grave covered over with flowers, 
 And weeps as she dreams of the evenings gone by; 
 
 And oh ! as slie dwells on those sweet, happy lu;iirs. 
 How deep are the feelings that swell the full sigh. 
 
 The Sun golden shines on the mountains adorning. 
 And beams her sad face as he dries the lone tear ; 
 
 While looking to heaven so tenderly mourning. 
 She bitterly sobs " that he were now here." 
 
 That face once so glowing with fresh, fairy sweetness. 
 Is now growing pallid and hollow and wan ; 
 
 Those eyes once so bright in lier charming complete- 
 ness. 
 Look dull as she dimly the heavens doth scan. 
 
 She views the wide vault with imagery peering 
 On, on far away to the realms of the fair ; 
 
 Then listens as if to some angel voice cheering, 
 And smiles as she dreams of her cherished one 
 there. 
 
=33 
 
 I 
 
 li 
 
 
 I 
 
 112 
 
 WE PARTED FOREVER. ^ 
 
 Dark clouds 'gan to fall as the gloom gathered o'er, 
 
 And the light'ning's pale flashes flew wild to the 
 
 sight ; 
 
 Loomed heavy the thunder, hope dark'ning before, 
 
 Stood pale, tottering, dim, till 'twas lost in the 
 
 night. 
 
 ! I gazed on that face as it paled in the gloom. 
 
 And my soul stood aghast on the brink of its 
 doom. 
 
 I clasped her warm hand with a throb of delight, 
 When she cheeringly said " we shall soon meet 
 
 agam. 
 
 « 
 
 I watched her dear form till it faded from sight, 
 And I stood, aye I stood still to gaze even then. 
 I was knit to the spot as if bound with a spell. 
 And I felt all the loneness bereavement can tell. 
 
 I turned in deep gloom from the form that I loved. 
 
 And to leave her indeed was my bitterest tear ; 
 How deep is the pain to be sudden removed 
 
 From that one treasured soul whom we cherish 
 
 most dear ! 
 how loathsome is life when in sadness we part, 
 And how hateful the feelings that thrill the lone 
 heart. 
 
meet me, Sweet Nellie. 
 
 113 
 
 Familiar old hill I when I 'd moimted it well, 
 
 .[ looked back, and away in the distance I saw 
 My love walking slowly alone in the dell ; 
 
 My heart fluttered wildly, with tremulous awe, 
 And the thought bore me anguish — my God, 
 
 should she die ! ' 
 I blest her and wept with a deep, bitter sigh. 
 
 How I picture before me the time and the place 
 
 Where forever I parted from all that was dear ; 
 Where a last time I gazed on that meek, gentle 
 face. 
 Which I'd cherished and smiled on from earliest 
 year. 
 Now in sadness I wander, distracted and lone. 
 For the dear one I loved to her heaven has gone. 
 
 MEET ME, SWEET NELLIE, TO-NIGHT 
 
 IN THE DELL. 
 
 MEET me, sweet Nellie, to-night in the Jell, 
 
 Where the swallows enchant the still air, 
 And conies disport on the green, mossy banks, 
 a happy retreat for the fair. 
 
 come when the sun rideth over the hill, 
 P^or then all the valley is silent and still. 
 
114 
 
 Chapleiifi's Poems. 
 
 Aye, come to the spot 'neath the old beechen tree, 
 
 I will tell a sweet tale to you new, 
 A theme that has luumted my mind since a child, 
 Lovely Nell, 't is relating to you. 
 
 Methinks if the heart can be seen in the face, 
 A deep, growing fondness in you I can trace. 
 
 meet me to night with your fond, pretty smile, 
 
 I^et me clasp you my own to my breast. 
 And kiss your sweet lips with a tenderness due. 
 Then free from all doubt will I rest. 
 
 come, Nellie come, and this night, may it 
 
 it prove 
 That our friendship has grown to reciprocal 
 love. 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 iH 
 
 
 i 
 
 I 'm sad, and feel aggrieved, ah me ! 
 
 Still o'er me troubles roll. 
 From sorrow I am never free, 
 Nor shall be till the world I flee. 
 And go to heaven away from thee 
 
 And take a new-born soul. 
 O me ! this life is hard to bear. 
 Of sorrow, I 've a loathsome share, 
 
 And none will me condole. 
 
Sonnets. 
 
 Incongruous work is this of tliine ; 
 
 Alas thou 'rt all to blame. 
 if the cause were partly mine 
 That thou for me should'st now repine, 
 
 My soul would blush witli shame. 
 
 115 
 
 II. 
 
 NEVER a heart so pure and true 
 As mine, yet anxious throbbed ; 
 never a passion stronger grew, 
 No soul a deeper fondness knew. 
 Nor e'er a charm from impulse drew 
 Such tears as I have sobbed. 
 
 I would call thee sweet, but no, 
 
 'T is thou hast filled my heart with woe» 
 And me of peace hast robbed. , 
 
 1 had forgot to think of thee. 
 
 And care went other way; 
 Yet though thou art so cruel to me^ 
 I still will sliow thee sympathy. 
 
 Nor spurn thy plea away. 
 
 «5) 
 
116 
 
 I HAD A FLOWER IN THE GARDEN OF 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 In the garden of love, once I liad a sweet flower 
 
 I nurtured vv^ith fondest of care ; 
 And I placed it alone in a green shady bower, 
 
 So rich was the bud and so rare. 
 
 But alas ! on a day it had cliangM its form, 
 
 The heart of the flower I loved 
 Was all eaten away by a cankering worm, 
 
 Nor could the fell spot be removed. 
 
 indeed I was sorry to part with my gem, 
 And worked hard to erase the dark stain ; 
 
 But it was so foul cankered, so deep was the wem 
 That I left it with agony and pain. 
 
 Yes and oft even yet sad rememberance dwells 
 On the time that 's for ever gone by ; 
 
 And Ely heart is distressed with emotion that swells. 
 And forces the tear from my eye. 
 
 For I feel there 's a something that 's lingering yet 
 And nestles deep, deep in my breast ; 
 
 And it yearns to the object I cannot forget, 
 The one I loved fondest and best. 
 
A Sif/h and a Tear, 
 
 117 
 
 And tis long as I live the same feeling will glow, 
 
 Now brighter, now duller the flame. 
 And oft with a fondness I only can know 
 
 I fancy myself was to blame. 
 
 the hist parting word, the last kiss, the last glance 
 
 In the face I so loved to admire. 
 Returns to my mind with a boding advance, 
 
 But ah, 't is the face of a liar. 
 
 A SIGH AND A TEAK. 
 
 Youii vows are as nought, though you promise 'tis 
 
 true. 
 All I can desire, or am hoping of you ; 
 But ah, the sweet grace that would bind you most 
 
 near 
 Is breathed from the heart through a sigh and a 
 
 tear, 
 
 give me a heart that 's akin to my own, 
 A love that grows high when prosperity's flown; 
 A deep set aifection my soul will endear, 
 Which softly is touched with a sigh and a tear. 
 
mr 
 
 118 
 
 Chaplein's Poems, 
 
 
 
 
 give me a love that of constancy tells, 
 A heart wherein truth and pure Lveliness dwells. 
 give me a love that my loneness will cheer, 
 And soothe my sad hours with a sigh and a tear. 
 
 Don't you know that your heart is as cold as a stone, 
 Devoid of all goodness, to passion unknown ? 
 Indeed when did ever there fall on my ear 
 Sweet solace of love in a sigh or a tear? 
 
 yet may I find the sweet one of my heart. 
 The one who will not in adversity part, 
 The soul that's divest of mistrusting and fear. 
 Who balms the heart's wounds with a siffh and a tear. 
 
 Sweet one in whose bosom I '11 rest myself sure ; 
 Fond heart who has love that will ever endure ; 
 A mind that is candid, unfettered and clear. 
 Which breathes its remorse with a sigh and a tear. 
 
119 
 
 s. 
 
 me. 
 
 lar. 
 
 sar. 
 
 THE MAID OF CHELSEA. 
 
 Come listen to me and a tale I will tell, 
 'T is of a young maid who in Chelsea doth dwell ; 
 Her name I won't mention, but this I will say 
 She is just as sweet as the flowers in May. 
 
 I caught but one glance of her sweet winning eye, 
 That glance was enough to make any man sigh ; 
 I felt my heart beat, and a struggle within. 
 Then made up my mind I would go in and win. 
 
 Next evening I waited to see her come by ; 
 My heart beat so fast, I thought I should die ; 
 I thought I should die if she did not come soon. 
 As I curled my moustache, and looked up at the 
 Moon. 
 
 When I had been waiting one anxious long hour. 
 My patience o'er hope was fast losing its power ; 
 
 But that relapse but augmented my joy 
 For shortly she passed me, so modest and coy. 
 
 "Good evening" said I, "may I walk with you 
 
 home ?" 
 She made no reply, but I thought she meant 
 
 "come," 
 So I begged she would pardon my rudeness, for 0, 
 So strong a temptation I could not forego. 
 
 
120 
 
 To Maggie. 
 
 I wooed the fair angel, and made her my own, 
 And think you that I can live longer alone ? 
 You know how it is, when one 's caught in the snare 
 Of the glance of a girl who is charming and fair. 
 
 TO MAGOIE. 
 
 ! 
 
 Maggie, darling, when I leave you, 
 Think of he who loves you most ; 
 He who guarded you from danger ; 
 He who knew the bitter cost. 
 
 When your heart is bowed with sorrow. 
 And I 'm sailing o'er the sea. 
 Think of he who loves to bless you ; 
 Darling, breathe a prayer for me. 
 
 When alone at evening sighing 
 And a cloud o'ercasts your mind ; 
 Think of he who fain would cheer you, 
 He you know is true and kind. 
 
 Barling Maggie, years may part us, 
 We may never meet again ; 
 Then remember he who loves you ; 
 He who would not give you pain. 
 
12a 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 Sooner or later Death will come, 
 Of all our deeds to take the sum ; 
 Sounding the conscience everywhere 
 Prepare for me, man prepare. 
 When fixed, he casts an awful gloom, 
 And hands the victim to his doom. 
 Bril>eless, impartial, favoring none, 
 For all are his, beneath the sun. 
 Dauntless, unmoved, he takes his stand, 
 Unerring falls his pitiless wand. 
 Then stays the pulse, the throbbing heart, 
 And bids the soul and body part. 
 Waiting the languid eyelids close. 
 He grimly notes the struggling throes. 
 With look dark, stern, he nods his head, 
 Then turns him from the gloomy bed. 
 His notes made up, he snifts his nose, 
 His dark book seals, and off he goes, 
 Koaming the world by night and day — 
 Prepare, man I I cannot stay. 
 
122 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF BUN. 
 
 As I took a stroll in the forest, of late, 
 
 I saw a wild Rabbit a grieving his state ; 
 
 There musing alone on the bank of a stream 
 
 Of days that were past, the old chap seemed to 
 
 dream. 
 I walked up to him, for he ran not away, 
 .And sat myself down, since he wished me to stay ; 
 .His tales of adventures, of childhood and youth. 
 He told me a-weeping, and it savored of truth. 
 " Wlien quite a young Bun," said he, dropping a tear, 
 I was happy and joyous, and nought did I fear : 
 'We lived underground and our burrow was clean, 
 As any bun's burrow that ever you 've seen. 
 I 'd twelve little brothers, and sisters but live ; 
 To furnish our wants, many friends did contrive, 
 Our relative neighbors, some meal would provide, 
 .And kind aunts and uncles would help us beside. 
 For alas ! our dear parents were both basely shot, 
 Deprived of their lives, and then boiled in a pot. 
 My mam was put into a cloth with some dough. 
 And how we young children were grieved you may 
 
 know. 
 You cannot believe such a low, base afliir, 
 .But ah, it is true, what I now do declare ; 
 'T is shameful to say, and most awfully sad, 
 «(^uite naked they cooked in the pot my poor dad. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
The Adventures of Bun. 
 
 123 
 
 Then orplians were we, left to do as we could, 
 But friends taught us soon to sport over the wood ; 
 So spent we our childhood, in learning to run, 
 In skipping, and playing, and having such fun. 
 But my poor sisters and brothers were snared, 
 And even I too, would have similarly fared, 
 But knowing men's dodges, they too in their turn 
 Are fooled by a Bunny who keeps in the fern. 
 'T is life of much jeopardy, all night and day 
 I've run here and there to get out of the way. 
 my, but one night as the moon was a-rising 
 A dog grabbed my tail as I 's playing and poising. 
 didn't I scamper off quickly, dear, 
 My heart in my mouth, and a din in my ear ; 
 But what made it worse, I fell into a hole 
 And on my poor head there came tumbling a pole. 
 The dog was behind, and before, and all round, 
 But lightly I sped o'er the slimy wet ground ; 
 Now slipping, and tumbling, and smothered in dirt, 
 Now head over heels with the dog at my shirt. 
 
 't was a bad time, for the bloodthirsty hound 
 Twice pounced upon me and we rolled on the ground, 
 But he was so fast and I too was so quick 
 
 1 left him as though he was very Old Nick. 
 
 Another adventure with ferret and net 
 Ort makes me to shudder, ashamed, and to fret,, 
 For in that adventure I lost my poor tail, 
 So sad a mishap I must often bewail. 
 
 
12-i 
 
 Chaplehi's Poems. 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 1 ii 
 
 II* 
 
 I. j.\.. 
 
 1 Wtifc; sweepinj^ my bedroom one bright sunny diiy, 
 And wlion I bad done was intending to play. 
 But tliink bow I felt, wben I saw at my door 
 A yellow thing squinting and sniffling, ah sure, 
 That sudden affright put my heart in a flutter ; 
 I looked at the wretch and a something did splutter. 
 Then punched him and told him to clear, right 
 
 away. 
 But villain ! he entered and said he should stay. 
 1 turned myself round and gave him some hard 
 
 kicks, ' 
 
 But while in the act on my tail he did fix ; 
 I kicked, and I kicked, but 't was all of no use, 
 I tried tlien to scare him by railing abuse ; 
 But no, the soft fellow would not let me go, 
 But pulled at my tail and most angry did grow ; 
 Then sudden I kicked, but it still was tlie same. 
 Thinks I this is rather a dangerous game. 
 I thought that indeed he would never withdraw 
 His horrible teeth and his adamant jaw, 
 I found I was pinned, and thus pinned I must at'dy 
 Could I not get at him in some kind of way. 
 So I flew in a rage and a terrible passion. 
 And went for tlie lad in this kind of a fashion — 
 "Now what do you want, or what is your mission ? 
 And what 's to be done, in this foolish position ? 
 Most audacious scoundrel, how dare you presume 
 Without my permission to enter my room ? 
 
The Adventures of Bun, 
 
 125 
 
 You low, ill-bred villain, let go of my tail ! 
 
 Do you hear ! why I '11 kill you as dead as a nail ! 
 
 I say let me go ! you vile son of a slave I 
 
 You yellow-faced nigger ! you cold-blooded knave \ 
 
 You wont let me go ? I'll give you such a ?end 
 
 Right Tmder the jaw, that will put you on end. 
 
 Jerusalem, man, now why don't you be easy ! 
 
 You wovdd give me to think that you really were 
 
 crazy, 
 A pulling and tearing ; why don't you keep cool 
 You dirty old blaekguard, you blowing old fool. 
 0,0! double murder! blue thunder and lightning! 
 Hold ! hold ! don't you know that you grip is a 
 
 tightening ? 
 Take that, and take that, you unmerciful feller !" 
 
 didn't I give it him under the smeller ! 
 "Keep that in rememb'rance of when we first met ; 
 You '11 show better manners in future I '11 bet." 
 
 1 sent him a sprawling heels over his head ; 
 And sure ere he got on his pins he was dead. 
 
 didn't I give it him, leave that to me. 
 For I was determined that time to be free. 
 Make you no mistake, I gave him the straight tip, 
 And once I was free from his terrible grip 
 
 1 gave it him thick, and didn't he wail ! 
 I guess I paid him for the loss of my tail. 
 When I had gone through him I ran to the door. 
 But when I got there, there were dogs just before. 
 
12tj 
 
 Chajplehi's Poems. 
 
 And right in ray path there was laid a large net ; 
 
 dear I was in a most horrible sweat. 
 
 1 trein>)led and started, ran back in dismay, 
 Tlien bolted like lightning and got clear away. 
 That ass of a ferret, I left far behind. 
 
 And to him my tail I most gladly resigned. 
 Now think over this little tale I have told ; 
 Don't hurt me again, for I 'm tottering and old : 
 I cannot sav more, for I have such a cold. 
 Depend on it, every word's true, I have said, 
 And now you can go and I '11 toddle to bed. • 
 
 f^^ 
 
 ,<?j 
 
127 
 
 MY LOVE LIES DOWN IN THE DEEP 
 
 DARK SEA. 
 
 My Love lies down in the deep, dark sea, 
 Where the night winds howl and the breakers roar, 
 And the face once so dear and familiar to me. 
 Is lost to my care, I shall know it no more. 
 
 Full foul and high the winds did blow. 
 The seas broke o'er the lonely barque. 
 Full many a soul told o'er his woe. 
 On that wild night so drear and dark. 
 
 They say he stood on the sea-worn deck, 
 They say he stood like a seaman brave, 
 When a wave washed over the sinking wreck. 
 And bore him down to a seaman's grave. 
 
 My Love lies down in a lonely bed, 
 Where the silent build of ages lie ; 
 Where a calm broods over the silent dead, 
 Nor sorrow prompts the heart to sigh. 
 
 Adieu my love ! We '11 meet again, 
 When all the storms of life are o'er ; 
 When parting lends not pleasure pain, 
 And lonely souls thall grieve no more. 
 
128 
 
 GONE. 
 
 FROM AN UNFINISHED POEM. 
 
 Last year together there we sat alone 
 
 At silent evening by the rippling brook : 
 
 The breezes whispered through the cold oak leaves 
 
 And drearily told us that the fall was near. 
 
 I held ray treasured one within my arms, 
 
 And felt indeed that she was all my care. 
 
 The world and all its gaily flitting joys ' 
 
 Had not a charm to lure away my thoughts 
 
 From her the one, my own, my only love. 
 
 0, I remember how she softly held 
 My hand within her own, and sweetly pressed 
 Her warm and fondling cheek to that of mine. 
 We sat and watched the sun fall slow behind 
 The hill, and gazed upon the massy folds 
 Of gold and crimson clouds that 'domed the sky, 
 And pictured fairy scenes of hill and vale, 
 And lakes and rivers flowing slow along 
 By calm retreats and still and shady groves. 
 The swallows far away up high in Heaven 
 Disported long amongst the gilded clouds. 
 The lark was singing o'er his evening song, 
 While in the dell the sylvan thrush did chant 
 Its anthems o'er, as perched upon the tree 
 The robin told his sad r.nd love-lorn tale. 
 
An Unfinished Poem, 
 
 121) 
 
 " C) George," she said, " What 1)1 iss I feel as here 
 I forul recline me in your arms and ga/e 
 Upon this lovely scene and let my mind 
 Forj^et Jill else but you in this profound, 
 Delio-litin^ and enraptured hour of peace. 
 How I delight to listen to those hirds 
 Tell o'er their tales of love and think me one 
 Of them, replying with as pure a breath 
 As that by which they breathe their prayers to 
 
 Heaven. 
 I '11 not be with you long, for I do feel 
 That soon I '11 lay my body down to rest. 
 And when I 'm gone, at evening you will come 
 To my lone grave and tell your desolate thoughts. 
 And drop the tear of fond rememb'rance o'er 
 The lifeless dust of she whose every thought 
 Was e'er directed to your happiness. 
 
 But George, we '11 not be parted very long. 
 For soon in that unchanging land above 
 Where death can never come to mar our peace, 
 We '11 meet again to tell of that pure love 
 Which once enkindled, cannot, cannot die. 
 I love you, George, and deep emotion swells 
 My heart, whene'er I look upon your face 
 And think and feel how dear you are to me. 
 no, you must not let too deep and lone 
 A sorrow mar your life, but travel on. 
 And when your day on earth is done, you feel 
 
130 
 
 C%iph'' liis Poems. 
 
 That you your duty here have well performed, 
 Vou theu eau Liy your liody dowu to sleep, 
 And eorne to uie, where there no parting in. 
 And T will meet you at the gate of Heave u. 
 
 Next Spring, (Jeorge, you will see the swallowa 
 come, 
 And every sunny evening tly around 
 The old thatched cot, and you, ah! you will weep, 
 [ know you will, hecause I am not there 
 To talk to you and help you to enjoy 
 The lone and trancpiil twilight as it hroods 
 ►So meekly o'er the ealm and peaceful scene. 
 But ah, I then will be close by your side, 
 And if I have the power, will touch the cord 
 Of rapture in your breast, and bid you think 
 Of me, but gone a little time before, 
 That we may feel more deep the sense of bliss 
 That we will know when we do meet in Heaven 
 To never think of death, nor part again.