IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ 1.0 1.1 2.5 2.2 ut IJ& L25. II U IJ6 ^ 6" ^^ ^ -y ^>. '/ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WnSTM.N.Y. Msao (716)172-4303 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notas/Notas tachniquas at bibliographiquaa Tha Instituta haa attamptad to obtain tha isatt original copy availabia for filming. Faaturaa of thia copy which may ba bibliographicaliy uniqua. which may altar any of tha imagaa in tha raproduction, or which may significantly changa tha usual mathod of filming, ara chackad balow. D D D D D Colourad covars/ Couvartura da coulaur I I Covars damagad/ Couvartura andommag6a Covars rastorad and/or laminatad/ Couvartura rastaurte at/ou palliculAa Covar titia missing/ La titra da couvartura manqua |~n Colourad maps/ Cartas g6ographiquas an coulaur □ Colourad ink (i.a. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound vwith other material/ RaliA avac d'autras documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along IntaHor margin/ La re liure serrie peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion la long da la marge intArieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within tha text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certainas pages blanches ajoutias lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans la texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas AtA filmAes. Additional comments:/ Commentaires supplAmentairas: L'Institut a microfilm^ la mailleur exemplaire qu'il lui a At* possible de se procurer. Les details da cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la m6thode normala de filmage sont indiqute ci-dessous. I I Coloured pages/ n This item is filmed at tha reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film* au taux da rMuction indiquA ci-dessous. Pages de couleur Pages damaged/ Pages endommagtes □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaur6es et/ou peliiculAes Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages dAcolories, tacheties ou piqui piquies □ Pages detached/ Pages d^tachtes 0Showthrough/ Transparence I I Quality of print varies/ Quality inAgala de I'lmpression Includes supplementary material/ Comprand du material supplimantaira Only edition available/ Seule Mition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc.. have been ref limed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, una peiure. etc.. ont M fiimtes A nouveau da fa9on A obtenir la meilleure image possible. The toti The post of tl film Orig begl the sion oth( first sion oril The shai TINI whit Map diffc antil begi righi reqt metl 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X »X I ^ 12X 16X 2DX 24X 28X 32X lire details jes du modifier |er une flimage 6es The copy filmed here hae been reproduced thanka to the generoaity of: Library of the Public Archivea of Canada The imagea appeering here are the beat quality poaaibla conaidering the condition and legibility of the original copy and In keeping with the filming contract apeclficationa. Original coplea In printed peper covera are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the laat page with a printed or liluatrated imprea- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original coplea are filmed beginninn on the first page with a printed or liluatrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or liluatrated Impreaaion. The laat recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol ^»> (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol y (meaning "END"), whichever applies. L'exemplaire fllm4 fut reproduit grice i la ginArositA de: La bibliothAque des Archives publiques du Canada Lea imagea suivantes ont AtA reprodultes avec le plua grand soin, compto tenu de la condition at de la nattetA de l'exemplaire fiimA, at en conformity avec lea conditions du contrat de flimage. Lea exemplalres origlnaux dont la couverture en papier eat Imprimte sont fllmte on commenpant par le premier plat at en terminant soit par la dernlAre page qui comporte une empreinte d'imprdaaion ou d'lllustratlon, soit par le second plat, salon le cas. Tous las eutres exemplalres origlnaux aont filmte en commengant par la prtomilAra page qui comporte une empreinte d'impreaaion ou d'lllustratlon at en terminant par la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un dea aymbolea auivants apparattra sur la dernlire image de cheque microfiche, selon le ces: le symbols — ► signlfie "A SUIVRE", le symbole ▼ signifie "FIN". re Mapa, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratioa. Thoae too large to be entirely included in one expoaure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many framea as required. The following diagrama iiiuatrate the method: Lea cartes, planchea, tableeux, etc., peuvent Atre filmfo A des taux de rMuctlon diffArents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clichA, 11 est f limA A partir de I'engle aupArieur gauche, de gauche i droite. et de haut en baa, en prenant le nombre d'imegea nAcaasaire. Lea diagrammea suivanta iliuatrent la mAthode. y errata Id to nt ne pelure. ipon A 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 THE ACACIA ■ii ■.^' , 1 « * , ■> 1 . 1 1 - A \ i ■ 1 i I ' '3 ' 4 - * -i"-'! i • '' y 1 < % "' ■ - 1 . „^^».». ,\ ii^i. \ IV < •r t *'tt nuM. By HARRIETT ANNIE. HAMILTON : PBIMTBD XV THB "SPBCTATOJl" OVFICB, COUJtT H0U8B 6 UH»l l Bl.-.«t »- THE ACACIA. THE BROTHER'S REMEMBRANCE. )> In a chnreh, in Canada West, stands a marble slab eontiUnfny the following inscription : " To the mostaflfectionate ofbrothersf » » » ♦ who departed this life firom the effects of a eold. taken while defending his country. This humble monument is placed here by his omy brother." , , ^ . . It stands — a simple tribute there, Within that hallowed fane ; . • The token of a quenchless love That ever must remain. It tells of years of tenderness When two fond hearts were one ; And friendship's flower that fadeth not When life's short race is run. ■37+51 "j^. THE ACACIA. ^:... ' ( Cannot the feeling heart poi-traj Affection breathing there ; And speaking higher, hoHer things Than wreaths of laurel rare ? It tolls the throb of agony Which wrung that manly breast, When first the sound fell on his ear, " Thy brother is at rest" "Brother! brother, thou art gone, I must journey lonely on ; I shaU miss thee in the strife ; In the sunshine of my life. While I look around I see Warrior tro<>|>f^ which wait for me. Shall I lead again that band While one warm and trusty hand Lies now helpless with its clay- Only brother passed away. " Ah I they tell me I have won With the hostile sword .and gun, ' y ' ii^ THE AOACIA. » ,' Battles for the loyal free. What is fame or spoil to me? For they seek to make me bear Honors which thou may^st not share. Back I'd throw my all on earth — Were we once more round our hearth; But thy spirit would not stay — Only brother passed away, -^y '<■'. " And I shall not win thee back ^* From the grave's benighted track. Music from the forest trees. Whispers of the sighing breeze, Fain would bid my soul rejoice ; But — ^I wait another voice. Yet the angel's harp and string, Answer with their quivering, To the tones I miss this day— • Only brother passed away. ■ ^ ■ , ) d " Yonder rolls the splashing bay; Yonder heaves the lake's white spray; ^'[i 1 6 THB ACAOIA. Yonder doth the mountain frown ; We have stamped them with a crown. Ah I a fearful price I've paid For the honors on them laid. I shall see our banners wave, Whilst thou M'st thy early grave ; For a star hath veiled its ray — Only brother passed away. J| a " Oh 1 it had been better far Had we fallen both in war, And Britannia's banner proud Wrapped us in one fearful shroud. Ohl beside my bed of pahi To have heard thy voice again, Ere my soul from earth had bursty Gk>d, our God, had called thee first : Where immortal spirits stay — . Only brother called away." % Long years are numbered with the gone Since this requiem was said; I THB AGAOIA. And earth yet claims one living son, The grave retains her dead. Still when that living brother bows To worship still and low, Doth not that snowy marble speak Of one he loveth now? Warrior I the voice of fame may teadi Thy noble deeds of yore ; And loffy piHars yet may speak, A nation's thanks to pour. Brother! this hallowed marble stands A link to Heaven above ; Warrior! those tell thy dauntless heart — Brother! this speaks of love. 7] .,L, . IV'. 'B i: r' 8 THE AGAOIA. "COMB, QUICKLY!" Snnly, I come quickly— even so come, Lord Jesus. Oh, hasten, Prince I Thy marble temple is with scoffers thronged, Thy beauteous garden by deceivers trod, Thy orphan children are oppressed and Upon thy sod — [wronged And we have toiled all day. Now faint at night we pray — " Come, quickly ! " We rose at dawn, And beside all the waters sowed the seec , We saw fair " lilies among the rns," we s >od To rest beneath an apple tree, and "feea '^ Sweet in the wood ;" Still on the leaves fell tears Of hope, and joy, and fears. " Come, quickly !" t iif THE ACACIA. When noon was high, We turned us to the footsteps of the flock, And fed "the kids beside the shepherd's Toward the shadow of the holy rock [tent. " Our feet we bent ; We felt soft breezes blow, But yet it was not thou. "Cqme, quickly!" When evening came. We walked withir. thy garden, and we heard Thy music voice, and we were not afraid ; We heard its tone in every leaf that stirred ; We knelt and prayed That we may meet thee there. But Patience hushed our prayer. *'Come, quickly!" The time is long, And we are watching by the crumbling wall, Waiting a herald's warning from thy camp ; Our garments with the heavy dews that fall Are very damp. ,<:-:■ X p I I 10 THE ACACIA. Oh I weary is the night — Centre of Love and Light. "Come, quickly!" Within are sounds [tongues ; Of revelry, and mirth, and maddened The flowers are dying in the festal hall, Tones inhannonious mark voluptuous songs; Their pleasures pall, *Mid song, and dance, and shout ; ' Their lamps are going out. ' "Come, quickly!" Ah ! we would sleep — But not iM we can slumber on thy breast. And feel the hand that opened up the foun- Soon let us see thy fiery charger's crest [tain; Over the mountain ; The moon and stars grow pale, And human strength will fail. "Come, quickly!" <- THE ACACIA. 11 THE SOLDIER OF AUYERGNE. 'Twas midnight, and the soldier took His lone and quiet march ; The moon^s bright rays fell gloriously Upon the forest arch ; . i And through that forest's dreary gloom, Full twenty leagues away, The army of the enemy Waited the dawn of day. The watcher listened, for he heard The wild wolf's dismal howl, A crashing of the underbrush Betrayed his wary prowl ; Yet where the branches thickest weave, The soldier took his way ; He started — ^for a band of foes Had seized him as their prey. f : { 12 THE ACACIA. He was a captive — one strong hand Upon his lips did lie, While in hoarse whispers rung their words, " Betray us and you die." Warm love was nestling at his heart, Warm life was in his veins. One dream of love, of life, of home. One dream of captive chains. 'Twas but a moment, and he though o Of those who slept around. Safe and secure, while he kept watch Upon the sentry ground. 'Twas buc a moment, and a flush Passed o'er his cheek and brow ; His voice rang on the midnight air, " Auvergne I Auvergne ! the foe 1" The swords that in the moonlight shone Upon his bosom rushed, And from the dauntless soldier's heart Life's streamlets quickly gushed. fp> THE ACACIA. 13 Yet ere his beaming eye was closed, He saw his brethren's lance, Trampling down bush and brake, he heard The cavalry of France. He felt strong arms around him placed, He saw their princely train ; A nation's thanks were in his ears, — He had not died in vain. They laid him, while the host pursued The fast retreating foe. Beneath that glorious flag for which He laid himself so low. 1 may it be that when, if e'er, So dire a fate we claim, And through our country loud resounds War's fearful, shuddering name — Then may our hearths and households yield. Then may our foemen learn. We have such hearts as sleep beneath The banner of Auvergne. 4 I I 14 THE ACACIA. THE PRAYER OF DAYID. ** O, spare me, that I may recover strength before 1 go hence." It was night upon Jerusalem, Through the palace of the king, There came no sound of armed men, No songs the minstrels sing; The incense lamps burned faintly. And the moon's soft light was laid Upon the tesselated floor, As the suffering monarch prayed. " Spaue me," the earth is lovely, For all green things are smiling, and the rose I Sends up its fragrance through my lattice bars, The streamlet from the distant mountain flows Making sweet music to the twinkling stars, As night is coming. THE ACACIA. 15 "0 spare me," I have suffered: This form that never sank in weakness down, 'Fore lion, bear, or Philistine, can now Scarce turn its weary eyes to sword or crown, Or raise its fingers to this throbbing brow — Pity my weakness. " spare me ! " Men of battle, Wait for my voice upon the bloody field, And I have been so strong for Israel's right, It cannot be that I have yet to yield Helmet and spear; no, I have yet to fight, For thee, Jehovah. "0 spare me," I am wanting, In the assembly of the choral host ; Asaph has stayed the rapt chords of his lyre, And Ahiezer's army halts on Jordan's coast; i « Nathan the prophet weeps ; Hiram of Tyre Waiteth my coming. 11 16 THE ACACIA. " spare me." My sweet children, Traverse the marble halls witji noiseless feet. I once again must twine the golden hair Of lovely Absalom, and hear the sweet FuU tones of loved Bathsheba's heir, My thoughtful Sfliomon. " spare me." Gentle voices, That have a charm for me, so calm and low, Have whispered to me cheering words to-day. And I have felt soft lips upon my brow, That scared the fever's burning glow away- Calming my spirit. ^ spare me." Well I know That in thy presence dwells unbroken peace. And I shall rest by thy right hand at length, And yet I would life's pulse may not now cease. " spare me," that I may recover strength Ere the grave claims me. -•r^iF.: ■ • .. THE ACACIA. It LITTLE FLORA. A little bark afloat On lifers rough ocean — A little flower that blooms 'Mid earth's commotion ; Long be that fair and time-unwritten brow As free from lines of moumfulness as now, • And those blue eyes, Untarnished by the tear, like stars that shine Li summer skies. "We would no blight may pass Over the blossom ; We would no storm may rise O'er ocean's bosom ; [cold, We would — ^but swelling breakers will be And sweetest flowers have rootlets in the The storm, the clay, [mould ; Still mingle with the sunshine and the gold Upon our way. 18 THE ACACIA. Mother I whose heart of love Thy child is blessing — Father I who, with delight, Meets her caressing — keep the precious flower from dangers free, And point the voyage to that calm sea Where storms come not ; ■ Ah ! on the precious treasure given to ye Lies Woman's lot. Her loib, to watch untired By beds of anguish ; Her lot, to cheer the heart, When Hope's beams languish ; To cheer, and yet to yearn for some kind tone. That from the board or from the hearth is To keep love's lamp [gone — Still burning, beautiful and clear, ' ' 'Mid mist and damp. ' ' ' '' '•'■.':'.■ . Si . ' Parents I in earnest prayer, ' ' For this yoiir daughter, ' ' THE ACACIA. 19 That safe through Life's cold blast, And Death's deep water, A strength o'er which the foe prevaileth not ; A love, that change and time assaileth not — May win and keep, Till in the Everlasting Arms, She falls asleep. m B i-, I i 26 THE AGAGIA. BURIED WITH MUSIO. They buried him with music, And should it not be so ? That the holy dead of earth should rest, With a solemn cadence low. Yes, music for the hearth. And for the cradle-bed. For festive haUs, for warrior bands, And, music for the dead. The mother lulls her babe Calmly upon her breast. With the deep notes from her heart of love, To soothe it to its rest ; And the sailor on the sea Sinks peacefully to sleep, With the wild chords of the ocean's harp, Stirred by its pulses deep. THE ACACIA. 21 They buried him with musics — When Autumn's dying moan Scattered the dead loaves on the grave, Harmony whispered, " Gonel'* When th' Autumn's cloud-veiled sun Gleamed through the sky above, Music responded unto light, And the soft tone was " Love I" A breeze like breath of Spring Passed down the gentle slope ; The hand to fuller chords awoke. And gave the password, "Hope!" They buried him with music, And angel harp and string, Although unheard, yet answered back, Earth*s faint strains quivering. They buried him with music — Masonic music — dear Once to the heart of him who lay Upon a Mason's bier — 22 THE ACACIA. Music that softly breathed Sad tales of Death's damp sod ; Warm strains that told of cold decay, Rising to live with God. Father! hear our plea; Give mercy from thy store, Unto the bands whose weary feet Still tread the chequered floor; Give wisdom to the lips, To form the pleading prayer, And guide the trembling; hand to rule Each action by the square ; That so by light and love, They, won to heaven and thee, May close their eyes to wake and hear A new-born melody ;— That when around their graves Earth's voices murmur "Gone!'' The harpers of the Eternal Lodge May echo, "Won, won, won!'* THE ACACIA. 23 THE LADY TO HER EGYPTIAN LUPIN. Why failest thou there, My beautiful flower ? Art thou pining now For thy chosen bower ? Thou exile of Egypt, It cannot be, The grief of the lonely Is felt by thee. Lady, when daylight is past and fled, [dead, And earth and her children with sleep are My dreams are broke by the solemn chant Of voices that come from each kindred plant Which grows by the rivers of Halfai, Or the ruined temples of Dendera ; But not those visions of voJee or hue Make me so lonely the long day through. i','4 ! I ! .Mrf 24 THE ACACIA. What ailest thou then ? Thy green leaf turns, Where the brilliant sun On the warm earth burns. Where would 'st thou tarry ? Thou would 'st not be With my garden flowers, All strange to thee. Ah ! hast thou not learnt that a mystery Upon every flower and tree doth he ? And a union of spirit that may be felt, And a light of love that no sun can melt ? Look I the wreathing branches of trees are there, Like friends whom an absence makes more dear, While the bendmg boughs in yon distant grove Still whisper the word which we worship, "Love I" THE ACACIA. 25 I know that the sun will unfold his beams, And the fainting flowers will sigh for streams, But night's bright dews will the soft leaves wet, Of the rose and lilly and mignonette. While joy, deep joy, fills each rose-hung bower, They'll remember still your Egyptian flower ; For the blossom and bud may not forget That they are the angels' alphabet. Thou hast sheltered me, when by cold winds chilled. My bloodless veins at thy warm touch thrilled ; And I know that still I shall hear thy feet Come through the paths of the garden sweet, When eve descends from the dark blue skies Like an angel of mercy from Paradise. We '11 guard thy steps to the grave's dark gloom. And leave thee where flowers immortal bloom. 26 THE ACACIA. THE EXILE TO HIS DAUGHTER. To-night, to-night, Let me record the tide of this day's care ; Waves have their rocks to notch, vnnds have their clear Unmeasured numbers to pour every where ; What if I pour mine in a daughter's ear ? Is there a shrine more pure ? Doth not my heart grow Kght? All sorrows to endure, To-night, to-night I To-night, to-night, The world doth heed thee not, my gentle one, And thy own thoughts are sad within thy breast ; THE ACACIA. 27 Sad tears have fallen for bright hopes all gone, Sounds of another voice have marred thy rest. Weep not, weep not, my daughter, Passed over is that blight ; Sink it in Lethe's water, To-night, to-night I To-night, to-night, Sing me the strains I love to hear the best. If the cold-hearted stranger stays and sips A pleasure from thy melody — I rest In those sweet numbers flowing from thy lips. The hours fleetly, darling, Pass with the light ; Sing to me sweetly, darling. To-night, to-night! To-night, to-night, The father gathers to his breast his child ; if ill' 28 THE ACACIA. m t But other days will come of hope and fear — Another's glance will meet thy fond eyes mild; Another's hand — ^not, not thy father's, dear, Will rest upon thy brow, Praying for blessings bright, Even as I do now, To-night, to-night; To-night, to-night — The mom will come with busy care and toil. With gathering voices, and the noisy din Around the crowded mart, eager for spoil. But God is curtaining his children in ; The hours for prayer and love. For labor's flight. Are faUing from above, To-night, to-night! THE AGAOIA. 29 id )S To-night, to-night, Ere thine eyes close in still, unbroken sleep, I bid thee nestle closely to my side ; Thy love, my child, doth one calm vigil keep, Purer and deeper than the fountain's tide ; No holier thing can be. The heart can crave — no light, Clearer than shines on me To-night, to-night ! id 30 THE ACACIA. BYENINa PRAYERS DURING LENT. The flowers may wait at evening for earth's tears, The lion of the mighty forest may go forth, The timid dove in sleep may hush its fears, And the stars take their courses south and north ; May not earth's pilgrims tarry on their way, Despise not this, our worship, — Come and pray. The table of the money-changers leave, Ye who have toiled all day for glittering gold ; Bend lowly for heaven's bcnizous this eve, Ye who in morchandize have bought or sold;' Ye who havo hoard the engine's mighty sway. The v\'heel8 have ceased their moving — Come a id pray. THE ACACIA. 31 's Ye who have stood besido the bed of pam With the physician's skill, now pause and rest; Ye who have sat in judgment — ye who train The strong for battle and the warrior's crest, Drink of the brook that murmurs in your way; Night is the time for worship— Come and pray. Ye who through flitting hours have held the pen, '>^ And woke the thrills which only poets know ; Ye who ford depths once passed by learned men, Where the broad streams of science freely flow, Knowledge Uke a bright spell upon thee lay. Rest volume, pen and paper — Come and pray. 1 i 32 THE ACACIA. Pastor ! since morning broke upon thy brow, Hath not the sufferer heard thy words of faith? Hast tho^ not heard the orphan wailing low, And told the mourner what the Healer saith? The gentle Shepherd, on life's dreary way, Gladly we wait thy summons, " Come and pray." Mother I thou throughout all the day hast moved In woman's quiet, blest and holy sphere, Still being the loving and the moot beloved ; Home's light and blessing ; wherefore art thou here ? Thou seekest aid to guide thee in tiiy way — Thy household flowers are sleeping — Come and pray. Stranger ! thou wilt bend with us also now, Though night has ushered in the foreign skies; THE AOAOIA. 33 And when thy prayer is done, up to thy brow Will come no glance of fond and loving eyes. Thy heart is where thy fair-haired children play— Thy memory with the absent — Come and pray. All who throughout the hours that are fled, Have watched or toiled, have loved, or joyed, or wept, Eaieel now ; is there no word ye should have said. And spoke it not — none said that should have slept? Have ye not stains of sin to wash away ? Need ye not help to-morrow? — Come and pray. ( 34 THE ACACIA. THE INDIAN CHIEF. Dnring the war, a party of Indians attacked a village in the far West. One inhabitant alone escaped— a beautiful child, the daughter of a recent settler. The Chief arrived on the ground just in time to view the dying agonies of her murdered father. A few words passed between them, but they were sufficient to secure to the orphan of the pale face a happy home with the red men of the forest. — [Anecdotes of the Indians. The following lines are supposed to be uttered by tha Chief while conveying his adopted child to her forest home : I track the forest free ; Thy tears have ceased, sleep bears thee far away; My arms have folded thee, And claimed thee as my portion of the prey. Tears with the pale face dwell, But I'm a noble Chieftain's only son, And thy meek features tell That thou wilt learn to bless thy guardian one. ;# I \ THE ACACIA. 35 Why do I save thee now ? What knits thee closely to my inmost heart ? Why do I shade thy brow ? What binds me to thee never more to part? Is it the loving fold Of thy young, gentle arms around my form? Sleep on — the brave, the bold Shields thee, the only wreck of that fierce storm. Is it thy music voice ? Like streams that murmur in the forest wild, Where the red men rejoice, And the Great Spirit guards the forest child. I hold thee safe, fair one ; The ruthless war-cry it has startled thee— - Thy kindred all are gone — But thou, bright Sunny-eye, art safe with me. o i I I i •: ii \i P'j 1 1 1 36 THE ACACIA. Hast thou a pleasant dream ? Sleep on, thou tired one, and take thy rest ; And let thy long hair stream In wavy folds across the red man's breast. I have a home — 'tis far — And my brave children sport aiound the door ; Thou, thou shalt be its star ; Thy white skin shall be decked with jewels o'er. Woe to the red man be, If, in the hunt, he rescue not tlie dove ; No longer brave and free, If he forget the magic chain of love. Smile, pale face, in thy sleep ; I do not, may not weep for thy lost home ; An Indian cannot weep, And there are bright years for thee yet to come. THE ACACIA. St For thee I'll search the air, And many a gorgeous plume I'll homeward bring To deck thy curling hair ; Start not — 'twas but the sounding rifle's spring. And when the Father calls Me to my brethren in the Spirit land ; And when our own tribe falls, To take the arrows from his mighty hand ; When we two there have met, Thou to be with me wheresoe'er I am ; I know he'll not forget How the War Eagle bent to save a lamb. 38 THE ACACIA. OUR COTTAGE WALLS. t u. "We are aliens from a distant land, A land of love and flowers ; And none are here in whose warm veins Thrills kindred blood with ours ; And they whose sires once proudly trod Through Britain's royal halls, Now dwell in lands the stranger owns, Within the cottage walls. I We have no stores of shining gold — We own not beauty's power ; We move not in the giddy dance, We Uve not for one hour; Yet we have treasures many a king Seeks vainly till life falls ; Science, and peace, and love, we find, Can enter cottage walls. UH. THE ACACIA. 39 Keep back who enter pleasure's paths, The thoughtless and the gay ; We have no room for treacherous hearts, No room for pride's poor sway. Enter, ye kind and loving ones, Ye whom our Father calls ; We 've room for many such as ye. Within our cottage walls. We have the gathered love of years, We 've gentle ones to cheer. We 've sportive children's guileless hearts. Amid our pathway drear ; And oft th^ stranger's kindest tone Upon the lone ear falls ; For some have not disliked the band Within our cottage walls. We converse with the mighty dead — We 've poetry's thrilling power — We've music sweet, and hallowed charm, To while the evening hour ; )i P' / i , ! i i 40 THE ACACIA. Nor Strive to please the listener's ear : With power which but appals ; 1 i 1 We only sing the songs we love Within our cottage walls. "We have an altar raised on high To the worship of our God ; We tread the glorious paths of old, Which holier ones have trod ; We 've hymns of praise and words of prayer Breathed softly, when night falls, ■ And angels, hovering, fold their wings i Around our cottage walls. i We know an everlasting arm Is still about us cast ; We know we have a glorious rest When Time's dark waves are past. Angelic masons now prepare A house which never falls, For us, eternal in the heavens, ■ Though now in cottage walls. ^1 • * - ■■ ■ ■■ THFi ACACIA. 41 THE INTERMENT OP FLORIZEL. There were Hghts in the chapel's old dim aisle, And hymns sung low 'neath an ancient pile ; There were flowers fresh culled by a maiden's hand; There was gathered a bold and a fearless band; And wreaths of blossoms were clustermg there ; The rose leaves slept on the marble fair ; And the lamps from the roof gave out their hght As the brilliant stars on a summer night ; And the winds of Heaven that crept gladly through, A soft, strange life on the flowers threw ; * b.: ,;?■ m 1;! t, nil ' fi ^ f ■ 42 THE ACACIA. And their light stems thrilled in that marble grove, As the soul will thrill to a strain we love. But hushed was the organ's peal — and near A long train drew with a warrior's bier ; And calmed was the flashing of many an eye, To love's pure tribute and grief's sad sigh. " Halt now, and bury him here ! Where should the loving rest. But in a hallowed spot. Beneath the earth's warm breast, And near the rushing of our own bright river, The murmurs of the chainless Guadalquiver ? " See, there are flowers here ; What should the gentle seek. But those mysterious links From earth to heaven that speak ? But these are not the stranger's own sweet flowers That come to deck him in his burial hours. i«j le THE ACACIA. 43 " Music has murmured low Her dirges for the slain ; Glad that the stranger sleeps Beneath the soil of Spain. Unloved ! ye may be broken-hearted here ; Unwept ! pour o'er the noble dead the tear. " And must he sleep alone ? He who hath loved too well ; Who found a broken reed Pierce his heart's inmost cell ; And so he turned to battle's furious tide — He's 'fore the altar now — * the sword his bride.' " For us he dared the foe ; The Christian knight has bled ; And Andalusia's mould Yearns for her coming dead. Rest thee, thou Red Cross Knight — our sons shall tell In years long yet to come— -of Florizel. i •i ■■ I 44 THE ACACIA. " To-morrow, and the lamps Will lose their glorious hue, And the flowers will give up Their life and beauty too ; But the memory of the sleeper will remain Untarnished and undimmed on hearts of Spain." • • THE ACACIA. 45 « THE MISSIONARY VALEDICTOI^Y. • Land of my fathers brave, I leave each mount and cave ; Yes — I no more shall feel my pulses bound Like a free streamlet, as the spot I trace, Where, from my infancy, I've heard the sound Of the same waters in the same green place ; Yet I weep not to leave thy dome. My father's home. Scene of my boyhood free, Yes, I must go from thee ; The islands of the sea wait for me there, And men are caUing from the idol's stone ; I shall see the dwellings, rich and rare. And wreaths of roses to the soft winds thrown ; ■ ,M I' ll'l ! 46 THE ACACIA. 1 Yet oft my thoughts to thee shall roam, My boyhood home. Lot of my infant hours, I must go from thy bowers ; A voice is echoing thro' the myrtle band Like a soft viol — lo, it calleth me ; A murmur loud is on the ruby strand, A sound is sweeping o'er the rolling sea ; With joy I seek the gushing foam. And leave my home. God of my boyhood free, I cannot go from thee ; 'Mid dawnings of the sun m vine-clad bowers, Or his last gush of love on mountains drear. Or in the lone watch of the midnight hours, Thou wilt be with me and forever near ; Thou wilt never from me roam, God of my home. THE ACACIA. 47 Land of my purest love, My better rest above, I know I shall be gathered to thee soon, "When I shall pass away from foe and storm, And from thy climate where no burning noon Or withering frost shall pass across my form; No foe shall call me from thy dome, My angel home. 48 THE ACACIA. • THE SAXON'S DAUGHTER. The pine torch blazed on high — Voices were murmuring low, As on through brake and wood and steep The hardy Saxons go ; And rapid is their march, Yet each has bowed his head ; Undaunted, 'fore the Danes they stood — Their tears fall o'er the dead. It is not Edred's form They bear among them now — The Chieftain's daughter slumbers there. Death's seal upon her brow ; On through the forest dark, They reached the old stone pile, ' And through the broken gate-way passed. They tread the foot-worn aisle. _ _ , THE ACACIA. 49 **My daughter," spake the Chieftain, "now m I kneel Beside thy burying-place — thou who of late On deeds of mercy bent, met the dark steel Of our fierce Norsemen ; ah ! a cruel fate For one the loved of all, The light of hearth and hall. " I thought I should again have seen thee • come, Living and loving, as thou wert before, To cheer my spirit and to light my home ; Ah ! a bright lamp is quenched to shine no more Upon tins world of ours. But in a land of flowers. 1 '^Thou wert among us like a thing of light. With power to wake the spirit of the free; • ,♦ ■ '^1 11 m liil • i 50 THE ACACIA. A ministering angel in affliction's night ; But, ! beloved, what wert thou to me ? My link to heaven above, Centre of earthly love. " Methought I should have felt the answer- ing touch Of thy quick pulse to mine, and felt thy hand Once more upon my brow, and heard the gush Of tenderness from thy own voice ; I stand Alone in all my grief. Seared and without a leaf. " Put back from that high brow the curling hair ; The rose has left the cheek and lip, the ray Of bright eyes hath grown dim — the brow too fair ; Those tresses keep their freshness — let them stray — Yet one bright lock for me. And one for him, the free. ■tiiir % ' li THE ACACIA. 51 i ■ n " For there is one who should have been here now — My noble, dark-eyed Briton, far away — Wrestling with furious Norsemen, Arthur, * ^ thou ll Wilt see thy sun sink in its noontide ray, And seek in battle's tide Thy fair affianced bride. *' Back to the battle, Sa,xons ! I must pause, aH And Unger yet awhile by Edith's tomb ; i^M Fight for your homes, your lands, your loved, your laws, vPt But not for her who sleeps amid this gloom. Leave me alone to prayer ; Shrink not — I'll meet ye there." They 've left their Chieftain now ; They 've left him with his slain, ]'$ And there the high-born Saxon mourns The trophy of the Dane. i\, o 11 1 'il 52 THE AOAOIA. His only and his loved Unmoved lay at his side ; There, where the warriors saw him kneel, Edred, heart-broken, died. THE ACACIA. 53 t 11/ ON THE ECLIPSE OF THE SUN, May, 1854. Now slowly o'er the sun's broad disc A dull, dim shade appears ; Oh ! hath the king of day now learnt The power of human fears ; For slowly, as if Time had thought His wearying race was done, Gently, as sleep steals o'er the babe, The shades of night come on. The lowing herds move listlessly Home to their place of rest ; The sea bird seeks the tapering mast Far out on ocean's breast ; The squirrel seeks the bending branch That in the water dips. For nature, wondering, cannot tell What means the sun's eclipse. »?;■'■! i 11 !■ 54 THE ACACIA. Hush I heard ye not a distant roll, As of a world passed by, As mystic wheels harmoniously Went rolling through the sky ? Did they not give us some sweet sign, As of a brother band, Like ship hails ship upon the deep With words of some sweet land? Did ye not hear one mighty strain, As of a conqueror's song, While our majestic queen of night Rode peacefully along ? No I silence is their password now ; Silence — through all the sky ; Silence — on many a ruby lip And many a gazing eye. How shall it be when we shall mark The sun's bright cheek grow pale ? When God shall bid the orbs stand still That through the blue arch sail? II; THE ACACIA. 55 When sun and moon and star, as now, Are passing through the sky, Till suddenly the Judge's voice Shall summon them to die ? • Oh, Thou ! whose power alone can keep The reins of nature's steed. Who delicately penci. jst The flower and bush and reed ; Thou who dost keep a thousand worlds Rolling and still at rest, And hear 'st the sparrows when they cry From their lone pine tree nest ; 0, teach us by thy Spirit blest. How once the earth was veiled. When cruel hands, glorious Christ, Thee to the rough cross nailed. 0, teach us what, at that eclipse, By thee for us was done, So we shall calmly bear at last The dying of the sun. r-. 56 THE ACACIA. LAKE ONTARIO AT SUNSET. Thou art rolling on, Ontario, Laving the pebbly beach ; The fisher's sail just marks thy waves Far as the eye can reach ; Night veils thy distant waves — Sunset is going away — 0, let us watch with thee to-night; Leave thee ere dawn of day. Hast thou no song to sing Of olden Indian times ? Of Chieftains in their birch canoes That listened to thy chimes ? • Hast thou no tales of blood That mingled in thy flow? No memories of the hallowed past Within thy caverns low ? 'L -'; (>r\ THE ACACIA. 61 Ah I the white man doth claim The land once free as thou ; They Ve bought and sold on either side— The woods before them bow ; They may come down and gaze Into thy waters cold ; [graves — Thou^lt waft their treasures — give them Thou art not bought for gold. Thou hast laved the burning bark Down in thy treasured hold ; The sailor sleeps within thy arms — The child with locks of gold. Earth has her signs of death, Her graves, her marble stone, Her crosses by the lone way-side ; Thou hast how many? None I •4 Thou art gentle in thy smiles. Like a conqueror at play; The sportive children venture far Into thy rolling spray. : ;R!.:; 58 THE ACACIA. Thou 'rt fearful in thy pride ! To join thy numbers sweet Niagara above thee rolls — St. Lawrence at thy feet. m !l "We love to see thee thus, Speaking to sunbeams bright, So like the loving and the loved Meeting at morn and night. We love to see thy waves Eise as they 're rising now, To feel thy billows at our feet, Thy baptism on our brow. We leave thee, heaving lake, To thy moonlight and thy sky, The flute's soft note, the splash of oars. Ere another day goes by. 0, for those deathless waves , 0, for that country won, [power. Where the weary rest — where "moonlight's Music and love, are one.'* ;! ' THE AGAGIA. 59 THE POET'S EVENING PRAYER. The moon is on the sea, And the night winds are rustling in the pines, Low echoing to the soft notes of the dove ; The humming-bird is nestling in the vines, And I am come, Father in heaven above, To plead with thee. Thou, my God, hast given Into my hands a delicate harp, well strung. Trembling, I touch its wires, lest I should mar Its sweet, reproofless numbers, sweetly hung By Him who gave us melody from far, E'en from thy heaven. if J-:' ' : ..... . 60 THE AOACIA. When the world's roUing tide ! 1, . • Is cold around mo, and I pass along, Unheeded and unloved — a stranger here — ;|j This sweet, pure gift of thine, waking to song, m Cheers my lone spirit, and I feel thee near, 1 Close by my side. 1 0, give me grace and light, 1 So to return thy lyre at the last That thou 'It confess the off' ring, though Ki time tost, 1 ir And soiled with fingers of an earthly cast, ; 1 ' Owning, T have not in the deep earth lost ii Thy treasure bright. i ■ P If I one thought have stirred 1 n Which should have slumbered in oblivion Ii dark. r 1 Where I have sinned by word, by smile, ft or frown, 1 0, be thou merciful my sins to mark — Send thy mild angel of forgiveness down 1 Witl} love's sweet word. 1 s 1 i THE ACACIA. 61 If I have stayed the feet "Which hurried onward to the haunts of crime; .!■ K I have bid one angry passion cease — k If I have woke one memory of past time, f One dream of innocence, of home, of peace. l| Of childhood sweet ; ; If, from the grave-yard's sod. ^1 The gentle words of comfort have passed by. ' I And blunted the sharp edges of affliction's spears; If I have set a rainbow in the sky ; •'* . . If eyes have set in smiles which rose in tears, ^i 1 I bless thee, God. t Darkness is drawing round me — I I am drawing nearer unto thee — for here. ii Weary and faint,! fain would slumber long, II Trembling lest unseen danger should be near. ji Trustmg, because I know thine arm is - ' '1 strong. ^' 1 Thy love hath bound me. i J .. ■»-! . . -. ., m ^ 1 ^i: m l?3 6^* I I 62 THE ACACIA. And now I go to sleep— 0, let me calmly dream upon my pillow ; Let me rest, sweetly leaning on thy breast, Until the rosy light touches the billow ; Let thy bright angels guard my place of rest While night dews weep. At last — so let it be, When I have sung the poet's dying song, And my hands chill with Death's o'er- whelming wave. Grant me to gladly pass from earth's f^ill throng. Knowing thy love will wake me from the grave To be with thee. ■ • > 1 -• ' ■^f' % % 1 e THE AOACIA. 63 ISABELLA OF VALOIS. King Henry and his son, Prince Henry of Monmouth, tried by every means in their power to shake the constancy of the young Queen to the memory of her affianced husband, KLig Richard, but in vain.— [Lives of England's Queens. She flung her mantle from her breast, Her tresses from her brow ; A child, yet girt with woman's strength, She looks on Henry now ; And the gallant Prince of Monmouth, Whoso love the lady scom'd, Stood gazing on her noble brow With jewels unadorn'd. Knights brought their bannerets to wave When the vessel should depart, But bitter thoughts and poignant grief Filled many an Enghsh heart ; I \- i 5f I i if 64 THE ACACIA. m And she, fair girl, had quelled the storm That o'er her spirit broke ; It was no hour for tears ; a voice Upon the soft air spoke : " I am leaving, king, for ever, • The shores of England's isle ; Blessed be God that I am free From all your sin and wile ; One hour, and the kinder surf My father's ship shall buoy — Another morn, and France shall greet The heiress of Yalois. " Keep, keep those gaudy trinkets. Nor deeper stain thy soul With falsehood, perfidy and crime, For value of the whole ; I should have worn those jewels With pleasure and with pride, But Richard sleeps in Westminster With Anne by his side. THE ACACIA. 65 *' To rob one of her treasures, Silver and land and gold — To heap foul scorn upon a king "Who in his grave lies cold — To make the bowers of Havering A prison for a dove, Is the way the Prince of Monmouth Sues for a lady's love. " Farewell, proud king of Lancaster, I've not forgot the day, "When, as a slave, you carried me From my husband's side away ; My husband — yes, in heart — though none Saw bridal train or ring ; Nor waiting crowd came forth to crown The child-bride of their king. " Farewell, basc king of Albion I One ruleth yet on high, And the stately towers of Pontefract Are pointing to the sky. :l 1 if :;'S m 1 IF 1 1 Mi' I ^ « I m it '^''\ vi i li I m t Ik I f m *i (1 ! 1*1 66 THE ACACIA. Yes, cast thine eyes upon the ground — Again thy story tell, That ' Richard was by far too old To love sweet Isabel.' " Look, courtiers, on your monarch now- Elnights of the sword and lance — Tour monarch dare not meet my gaze, Poor Isabel of France ; Ah ! tell it at the tournament. When pride his lip will curl. That this Henry of good England Has quailed before a girl. " I will not tell you, Englishmen, How long I sought with care To tread the path your Anne trod, Of love, forgiveness, prayer. Farewell, ye gen'rous EngHshmen ; Beside my father's bed. The memory of your dawning love Shall ease my throbbing head." THE ACACIA. 6t She turned her face towards the sea, Her feet upon the bark ; The soul of that young maiden Queen With sorrow's cloud was dark. The mystery of that time must float O'er the living and the dead, Till " the Judge his books hath open'd, And another book is read." s 44\ r -} 'M WUI 80 THE ACACIA. Our paths are varied now, Alick, but they end in one at last. There 's mercv in the knowledi?e that rich blessings for us wait — That broken hearts are current coins at the eternal gate ; Oh 1 let us hnger patiently, battling the hosts of sin. Knowing that One we both adore will gladly let us in. " But let us make one promise more, beneath this risinu" moon, That whichsoever is earUest called to that unclouded noon, When its kindred bark shall anchor fast upon the golden sand, Shall he the first to greet it home into the spirit land. Your arm has still its iron grasp — there 's a fire in your eye — And your soldiers do not look on you as one that's like to die : THE ACACIA. 81 But I should not wonder, Alick, if you 're first to slumber low, For cannon blast and sabre point are heed- less where they go. " Hark, Alick ! for the bugle's roll is on the evening air, And hearts of Scotland's richest blood are waiting for you there ; Breathe peace and pardon for your foes; farewell ! no more we '11 meet, Until the everlasting hills our tearful eyes shall greet." And midnight came as it had come a thousand times before, And the shadows of the trystmg tree were lit with splendour o'er ; And brightly in the morning Hght the grass shone green and new, Though broken hearts had press'd it and tear-drops were its dew. X Ik J 1 I; m % 82 THE ACACIA. TEE QUEEN'S PICTURE. B On seeing a picture representing Queen Victoria taking the oath to maintain the Protestant faith. She stands, the Queen of Britain's isle, "Within tlie hallowed shade ; Her little hand is on the page Of inspiration laid; Her robes, her jewels — aye, the crown Circling her forehead flur, Is nouglit to her — a mightier one Than Solomon is there. 'Twas no light thing, that sacred rite ; A nation's wondering gaze Is fixed upon the gentle girl That on their throne they raise ; One guardian form is near her now — WeUington views the scene. The veteran chief of three- score years- And she — but just eighteen. 1 -It;;: THE ACACIA. 83 A light is glancing on the floor Her little feet have trod — A light is beaming in her eyes. Pure from the throne of God ; Yes, holy faith with trembling jomed, Within that maiden's breast, A prayer to keep her father's faith, And leave to heaven the rest. Young Queen, what visions throng thy soul; Thou could'st not tell what strife Should gather round thy nation's hearth In coming after-life ; Thou could'st not tell the fearful force Of congregated powers. Of deep laid schemes, well wrought within, Rome and her seven-hilled towers ; Of what has been, of con^'ent walls, Rising on Albion's shore ; Of persecution's hidden sword Piercing thy country o'er ; i«t i' ::i ;*•: } : i. I ;|I1H ;i Tl :: " 1 • 1 r II 84 THE ACACIA. Of Jesuitism, deep and dark, Widening its dreadful search. To poison streams which flow around The hearth, the home, the Church ; Of what may bo — the veiled to come ! May grace be given to thee, To give untarnished back to God That oath of Liberty. Yes, stand undaunted *mid the strife Of danger's darkest scene, True to the vow upon thy lips, Protestant England's Queen. Oh ! ye free-born, 'neath Britain's flag, A vow upon ye lies. The Bible and the Crown to guard "With warmest sympathies. Surely there is some mystic spell Upon our native sod ; It cannot fail, it cannot die, That prayer — that oath to God I THE ACACIA. 85 A MOTHER'S SABBATH PRAYER BY THE SICK BED OF HER CHILD. Hear me ! hear me ! Father of all I beside her bed I kneel, Watching the fiery course of this strange bhght ; In this sad hour thou knowest all I feel — Thou knowest human love; o'er the grave's night Thy tears fell free ; Hear me I hear me I Hear me ! hear me I Thou once on earth did'st visit one like i^dne, Lingering with fever; and her father, too, 18 '■« 86 THE ACACIA. Was ruler in the syuagogue ; that voice of thine Spake but the word and back hfe's stream- May I this see ; [lets flew ; Hear me ! hear me ! Hear me ! hear me ! I may not in the temple courts be found. Nor Hst to-day our solemn Litany ; Yet when the prayer shall rise for all thus • bound, And some think of this stricken one and Father of heaven, [me, Hear them ! hear them ! Hear me ! hear me ! I fain would see my darling back ere long, To fill her place once more round home and hearth ; [song ; Again would hear her voice in prayer and Again would hear her joyous shout of Of health and glee ; [mirth, Hear me I hear me ! THE ACACIA. 8t Hear me ! hear me ! Thou who didst strengthen thy loved Son to bear The cross of siiff 'ring, hear my pleading breath, If it be possible let the cup pass on ; Yet thy will, Father, be it life or death ; My trust is thee ; Hear me ! hear me ! m 88 THE ACACIA. DEATH OF CAPTAIN YIOARS. 1.115 f ■ Nilfc!.. There were sound of armies gathering Unto the cannon's roll ; There were sounds of martial melody Before Sebastopol. Courage was mantling in the breast, Fire in many an eye, As Britain's gallant hosts move on To conquer or to die. There were noble veterans in that train Who boasted many a scar ; There was one who led his gallant band, Young in those scenes of war ; Young, but how loved — ah I many an eye That saw him arming there Was raised to bless him, as his voice Broke through the misty air, " This way, 01th ! ■ THE ACACIA. 89 " By the flags that o'er us wave, All that makes the brave heart brave ; By the ties of home's sweet band, Sheltered on our native land ; By the ashes of our sires — By the light of Britain's fires — This way, 9tthl " By the burning vows that rest Deep within the patriot's breast ; By the bayonets that gleam In the young moon's flickering beam ; Though we stand on danger's marge, God will help us — up and charge I This way, dith ! " He will arm us for the fight. On this strange, this fearful night ; Ere we rout the treacherous foe Some of us may slumber low ; See that each is ready^ — then, Fight and die like Christian men. This way, 97th ! I- k IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) .«* "W*^ 1.0 |io ^^ M^H lU I.I HI III. •» . 1*0 M 1 '•'' M '-^ ly^ < 6" ► Hi0tDgFa(^c Sciences Corporation 33 WBT MAIN STRHT WMSTIR.N.Y. MSM (716)C7a-4S03 ) 4^4 u. 90 THE ACACIA. " Forward! victory is ours, Though we fall beneath yon towers; England's glory is our crest — England's colors wrap our breast — Let the trenches witness bear That the dauntless brave fell there ; This way, 97th !" Fierce was the battle — ^wild the strife — The ground beneath them rang ; Kedan and Malakoflf that night Echoed the musket's clang ; Two thousand of the treach'rous host Advanced 'neath that dark sky ; Two hundred of Victoria's men Had met them at the cry, "This way, 9nh!" ?) They fought and conquered, but the voice That led them bravely on, The tone that cheered their lion hearts For ever more was gone. THE ACACIA. 91 Yet as the life blood flowed apace, He saw his victory won, And once more shouted as he fell, " Brethren, the foemen run ! This way, Stth!" He died as many have gone down. Who bear the warrior^s crest. With a treasured name upon his lips, And a locket on his breast. Oh I would ye learn how brave men fight ; Go where the bravest lie ! And would ye learn how fond hearts love. And how true Christians die— "This way, 9tthl" Ye who beside him fought and won, Still may ye hear the sound That from the watch, the camp, the war, Hath gone to hoher ground ; The voice that failed on Russia's plain Awoke to sweeter song. 'J < 92 THE ACACIA. And still he whispers by your side, While beckoning on your throng, " This way, dith I" Oh I ye throughout our land, who gird The sword upon your side, And stand prepared in danger^s hour To rush in battle's tide, Scorn not to seek the light he sought — Scorn not the path he trod. Through woes to victory on earth, Then glory with his God. THE ACACIA. 93 ROCKBAY. Not upon a Southern plain, Nor 'mid myrtle bowers of Spain ; Where Ontario's waters rise, Underneath Canadian skies — Where the Indian's arrow sped, There thou rear'st thy lofty head ; Where the Indian's cabin lay. There thou risest, sweet Rockbay. Through the forest arch of green Are thy towering pillars seen ; Sunbeams glitter on the leaves, Rustling round thy turret eaves, With the waters at thy feet Rippling into numbers sweet ; 'Mid their glad and joyous spray, There thou smilest, calm Rockbay. i i I If!': ,#■ 94 THE ACACIA. Sweet sounds from thee float afar — Music, song, and light guitar, Bashings of the boatman's oar, Breezes whisp'ring on the shore, Leaves that rustle through the night, While amid the moon's soft light. Glittering in the star-beams' ray. There thou sleepest, calm Rockbay. FoUage of a thousand shades Quivers on thy mossy glades — Flowers of soft hues are seen Gleaming through thy vistas green; Roses, flakes of crimson snow, Strew the yerdant moss below ; Water lihes Uft their heads From their deep and sinuous beds ; And yet thou hast dearer things Than the rose or birdling's wings — Precious things that must abide When thy youngest flower has died ; mam THE ACACIA. 95 Underneath thy shadows fair, Human forms are dwelling there — Noble hearts that kindly beat In their calm Rockbay retreat. Dove of Peace ! unfold thy wings — Shelter from all harsher things ; Spell of Beauty ! hover still Over forest, bay and hill ; Spirit of undying Love I Breathe thy incense from above, Till the dawn of deathless day Is exchanged for sweet Rockbay. 81 ' 96 THE ACACIA. WAITING FOR THE BELL TO RING. On the artisan is toiling, Blackened by the dust and smoke ; On the labourer is delving Since the light of morning broke, "Weak and weary, but a vision Of sweet home a charm doth bring, And with strength renewed they labour, Waiting for the bell to ring. Oh ! through earth's immense plantation Do no weary spirits roam, Crowned heads who sigh for even, Statesmen longing to go home. Gentle hearts the heat has blighted. Captive birds who sadly sing. Slaves, who work in golden fetters, Waiting for the bell to ring. THE ACACIA. 97 Some, have done their task — are resting On the hill-side in the sea — Lance at rest, the troops are waiting Underneath the willow tree ; Maidens, with their silent tresses, Infants, rosebuds, nipped in Spring, Matrons, with their worn arms folded, Waiting for the bell to ring. Let us toil on, patiently, Faint and weary, worn and tired, Up, onward still, "Excelsior!" With an inward zeal we're fired ; Not for ever must we labour 'Mid rough iron's ceaseless ding, Hope is nestling in our bosoms, Wait^: g for the bell to ring. Pellow-craftsmen, in the mountain. Toiling at the unhewn stone. Firmer grasp the square and chisel. Till the ashler is our own ; I I 98 THE ACACIA. Balance truly line and plummet — Build the temple to our King; Courage ! we are all expectants, Waiting for the bell to ring. Soon shall come the Lord of labour Into vineyard, garden, field ; Soon shall sound his glorious accents, " Ye are with my promise sealed ; Come into my glorious chambers — Angels bright your victories sing — Ye were ready at my coming, "Waiting for the bell to ring." THE ACACIA. 99 OUR FATHER'S GRAVE. Sleep in peace, for dreary years — Love has drenched thy grave with tears ; Resting in a tomb alone, In a land almost unknown. They who once broad lands could trace Only claim a burying place, Abraham-like, 'mid sons of Heth — Deeds of land are sealed with death ; Willow branches o'er thee wave. Father, in thy quiet grave. Far away on England's shore. Where the tides of Severn roar, Towards the firmament's blue woof Grows a consecrated roof; G *^ I ! i: 100 THE ACACIA. Holy walls our Father built, With the light of morn are gilt, And his Son's name, carved on high, Meets the traveller passing by, Though the father and the son Their earth-wearied race have run. Never to the Holy Rock, Truer shepherd led his flock ; Scoffers hushed the impious word When his pleading voice was heard. And the midnight robber stayed From his deeds of blood, and prayed ; And they say his name is now Breathed with tears and blessings low, For thfey wept who could not save One who fills a pastor's grave. Widows dried the falling tear When they heard his footstep near ; Orphans in his pathway bent For his blessing as he went ; THE ACACIA. 101 For his lamp shed holy light, Heaven-born love and honour bright, Strove to nile, with earnest prayer, Every action by the Square ; Holy deeds their incense wave . Round a well-tried Mason's gra7e. Clouds were round the setting sun. When the ship its race had run. Ah ! affection, wild and free, Might have been idolatry, And, in unforgiving woe, Said, " I will not let thee go," Had not love's attentive ear Caught the storm-cloud mutt'ring near — Heard, with thunder in its train, " Sounds of an abundant rain." Father 1 thou in light dost dwell — They for whom thy last tears fell Still the widow's grief must share, Still the orphan's lot must bear ; I 102 THE ACACIA. But One, who appointed thee, Counsellor and friend to be, Thine own best beloved will keep Till, like thee, we fua asleep — Thine will guard th rough every blast Till we meet with thee at last. THE ACACIA. 103 THE QUEEN'S PRAYER. The king had girt his armor on, His good sword at his side ; His milk-white charger champs the bit, And foams in battle pride ; But good Queen Anne calmly sought The altar's peaceful shade, And low before her country's God Her warrior's cause she laid. No papal crucifix was there — Her slender fingers lay Upon the pages Wicklifife brought, Her fair form knelt to pray ; Yet, as the Abbey bell pealed forth The fervid, noontide hour. The maidens saw their Queen arise To seek the Warder's tower. limr lit yi 1 I. V 104 THE ACACIA. The Warder from his tower rephed, *' Ladye, ah ! far away, I hear the foeman's slogan cry, * Down with the king to-day !' And faint and dying on the breeze, Intsmothered whispers low, ' God and St. George I' my brethren cry, In accents that I know. " The foeman's chieftains ride and slay — England's are few and worn ; The foeman's banners kiss the sky — England's are soiled and torn." Day wore away, but still the Queen Was kneeUng all alone, Her long, dark curls fell heedlessly Upon the altar stone. " Yet once again," my Warder brave : " Ladye, the foemen run ; The banners of our lord, the king, Wave in the setting sun ; THE ACACIA. 105 ' God and St George !' from rock to rock, The coming conquerors cry ; ' God and St. George I' the foimts and hills In echoes wild, reply." The army neared the castle gates — The minstrels' strains begun, And as the Warder closed them in, Told what the Queen had done. They sat them down around the board — The king, the chief, the serf— They merrily filled the festal bowl To the victory of the turf They breathed their " good Queen Anne's " Her name was pledp^ed in wine, [praise ; The princess of old Luxenburgh, That knelt before her shrine. King Richard's brow grew flush'd with pride, The haughty Leicester frown'd. To think that Wickliffe's tenets vile Had such an answer found. m •k Si ii 106 THE ACACIA. What won the battle on that day? Asked many a stately knight, When gazing on his casque and shield, And blood-stained armor bright. What won the battle on that day ? A union strong and rare — The King of England's mighty arms, The Queen of England's prayer. .< THE ACACIA. 107 DEATH OF AN ENNISKILLEN OFFICER IN THE CRIMEA. It was sunset on the Euxine sea ; Upon its war-girt shore A son of Enniskillen bent His dying leader o'er. " Yes, it is true I'm djdng ; far away My comrades bear their banners, and to- night The foe must tremble at their dread array ; God grant them vict'ry in the fearful fight. Ah I I may lead no more my gallant band, And yet I die contented, if my life Purchase one inch of hostile Russian land — If I have been a victor in the strife — 'Tis well!" 'f^ I' :5i 108 THE ACACIA. A tear dropped down from eyes that gazed ; A sound of war went past ; There was music to the young moon raised, Cjonbals and trumpet's blast. " Sebastopol is in the distance ; hark ! The heavy charges on its battlements resound ; And they must take it, though I may not mark The Northern Bear fall stricken to the ground ; For Gaul has linked her arms with Albion's brave. And my own isle has heard the war-cry spoken ; High o'er her stalwart sons proud banners wave ; And lo ! a three-fold cord is never broken Easily." There came a pause in the thrilling strain That the passing army played ; THE ACACIA. 109 There came a sweet, refreshing breeze, Where th' wounded man was laid. " Blow on, sweet breeze, for thou hast words for me, Of things that I have done with flowers and trees — Of the low murmuring of the sunny sea — Of fields and woodland — aye, and more than these — Of home and my fond mother's gentle eyes — Of distant Ireland, and my father's call — Of noble brothers and their farewell sighs, And one sweet sister, fairest of them all, There weeping. " Aye — and another vision rises at this hour, Blotting all others by its burning beam ; A fair girl's love had won me by its power. And life shone then one golden, sunny dream; [mine — A stranger came ; his brow more fair than Without a heart, his love was but a name ; W" r '4 I iW l^ ■d M 3 it 110 THE ACACIA. Ere long her fingers through his curls would twine — Her cheek flush at his coming — I became A soldier. " Should you, my brother, stand this game of strife, Will you remember me when going home, And tell those loved ones, dearer than my life, That heaven will keep me till my darUngs come; And if, my faithful comrade, you should mark The one I spoke of, tell her how I sighed. And for her wept ; that long the clouds hung dark. But cleared away at sunset, and I died, Forgiving." The shades of night drew on apace ; Chieftains their armies led ; One brave man wept within his tent— His Ofl&cer lay dead. THE ACACIA. Ill le DEATH'S PRIZE. ** Died at Bea, on board the Aroga, Annie aged 19." Morning upon the vessel's deck — Morning so fresh and free — The good ship Aroga had sailed Upon the tossing sea ; Ploughing her way, she bears her freight Through the Atlantic wave, Her freight of merchandise and gold, The lovely and the brave. And one trod on that noble deck, The lovUest of the throng. Her step was glee, her glance was love, Her voice was sweetest song. Fan" Annie was the loved of all, The Ught of every scene. So wise, so good, so beautiful. And only just nineteen. T" 112 THE ACACIA. And one was on a distant shore, The shore that vessel sought ; His eyes each swelling billow marked, And every stonn-cloud caught; For the time passed that queenly ship Should have attained her rest. And many a heart beat painfully Within the anxious breast. But he who loved as few men love, Rested not night or day. But where the tall masts heave in sight, He daily took his way; And all night long he paced the shore, " Annie I my loved," he cried. And then he thought the moaning sur^ "Annie ! thy lost," replied. At length, ah ! joy, the minute gun Sounded at break of day. And soon the good ship Aroga "Was anchored in the bay. THE ACACIA. 113 Warm hearts were clasped to hearts that long Had dreamt of woe and wreck, "Annie I my loved," the watcher cried, And bounded on the deck. So two days passed, and upon the third. The sound of a gathering band was heard. And the tread of the comers was heavy and slow, And their words to the bridegroom few and low; While slowly moved each invited guest, Who answered the call to the marriage feast. And as the procession journeyed along, They uttered no greeting, they sang no song, And they fancied the winds in the branches lone Murmured one cadence, " Gone, aye gone," And every shadow of every tree, Wove the transparency " Died at sea." i N I m i ,5't: ■ t 114 THE ACACIA. And the throng who watched till the bride went past, To see the loved come to her home at last, Started and gazed in a maze of fears; Men trembled who were not used to tears ; For the merry sound of the marriage bell, Had a dull deep tone like a funeral knell. They stood roimd the altar, that wedding crowd, Who spoke of one in her pall and shroud ; For the bride was the loveUest creature there, The flowers were twin'd in the long dark hair; Yet the nuptial veil in its graceful fold, Circled a brow that was pale and cold. And men shrank back from the bridal dress Of a bride, so pure, so passionless ; Ah 1 it was a wedding I may there be few Such bridals for lovers, tender and true ; They left their beloved the foe beside. For Death was the bridegroom, and Annie his bride. THE ACACIA. 115 MIDNIGHT. Midnight I strange and solemn hour- Folded is each household flower ; Not a sound is near me now Save the breeze's cadence low, And the patter of the rain Tapping on my window pane, And the dripping of the eaves Falling upon withered leaves ; Yet the sentry keeps his tramp Bound and round the soldier camp; Merry dancers move their feet To the music's measured beat ; Sailors, far away at sea, List the waves' wild melody. And round many a downy bed Loved ones weep their newly dead. H 116 THE ACACIA. Why dost thou forsake mc, Sleep ? Closer to my pillow creep ; Thou hast sweet forgetfuluess Of sorrow, pain and fretfulness ; Oh I so very like thou art, (Save the beating of thy heart And the coming of thy breath,) So like thy twin-brother, Death. i I ''.i: H ''f Like thy brother — will he come Robed like thee, to take me home ; Thou art fitful in thy clasp- He will come with iron grasp ; Thou art gentle, soothing, mila — I have known thee from a child ; He will come but once to me — Ah ! when will that meeting be. God of midnight 1 waft this hour Angels from thy star-gemmed tower ; While the clouds in sorrow weep, Give to thy beloved sleep ; THE ACACIA. Ill Night by night, thy wardens send, Till we 'mid their numbers blend, Where, on thy sweet, summer shore, Darkness cometh nevermore. 118 THE ACACIA. THE ENSIQN MARTYR. An incident in the late Indian war. There were sounds of fearful mutiny 'Neath Allahabad's walls, And, 'mid the darkness of the night, Murder to murder calls ; But one, with youth upon his cheek, And colors in his hand, Found shelter in the dark ravine From that blood-thirsty band. Four times the burning sun arose Upon his hiding place. And on the fifth he starting, woke. To meet the Sepoy's face ; They dragged him to their leader's feet ; The Ensign martyr found An aged missionary there. For Christ's religion bound. THE ACACIA. 119 Tortured and weak, the pastor's heart Was yielding to his foes, But one he knew not came to cheer The sufferer in his woes. A few short years the patriot boy A helpless child had been — Too good to live, too young to die — Our victor of sixteen. " Brother, brother, do not fear Blazing flame or darting spear ; Look upon the mighty cross — Count it well to suffer loss ; Christ will succour they who try him- Brother, do not dare deny Him. " Brother, thorny is the road, But it wendeth up to God ; Doth it matter if we lie Bleaching 'neath an Indian sky ; Can we not as calmly rest As on England's grassy breast ? > 1 .: '' 120 THE ACACIA. ** Brother, suffer torture, die, Ere thou darest to deny ; Hark ! among these lime trees* breath Sounds the voice that conquered Death ; Best and peace and glory cometh Unto Him who overcometh." Courage I ye brave, for Britain's flags Are waving in the sky. Knights of the Cross ! there comes a sound Of armies passing by ; A hundred dauntless hearts are near — A himdred bayonets gleam — Steps of the gallant Fusileers Are splashing through the stream. They fly ! they fly I the Catechist Felt his rough chain unclasp, And turned with faltering steps away From the kind soldier's grasp. " Where is the brave boy-officer "Who bore the soldier's part, I THE ACACIA. 121 "With England's glory on his breast And Christ's upon his heart ? "Oh ! find him, save him, bring him herel" The cry rose wild and vain ; No more the stripling hero's voice Shall echo o'er the plain ; The blood-stained wreath of martyrdom Cu'cled the pure, pale brows, But Gabriel, with the martyr's crown, Parted the orange boughs. Boast, Britain, of thy island home, Boast of thy glorious lands, Thy works of art, thy mines of gold, Thy dauntless soldier bands ; But oh I be this thy glory wreath, That thou, from land and seas. Can give untarnished to thy God Such martyr souls as these. 122 THE ACACIA. PRAYER FOR THE ABSENT. Evening's gloom is round me now — Evening's breeze is whisp'ring low — Gentle, murmuring voices wake From the ripples of the lake ; Maker of the land and sea, Hear my humble evening plea ; Father I hear me as I pray — One I love is far away. Guide the bark that bears him on — Guard him till the goal is won — Up the mountain's towering height, 'Mid the misty damps of night, In the city's swelling throng. With the wood-dove's sweetest song. By the river's lonely marge, O'er him give thy angels charge. THE ACACIA. 123 In his hours of gladsome mirth Round some old and welcome hearth — In the halls of keen debate, 'Mid the pomp and pride of state, Cheer his spirit with love's beams, Lighten up his midnight dreams ; In his wand'rings, free and wild. Father, keep him, like a child. From the pestilential blight, From the sunbeams' scorching light, From temptation's mighty power In some lone, unguarded hour, From the dangers that we know. From the dark, undreamt-of foe. From the death-splash of the wave. Saviour, hear and help and save. Hear him, as he bends the knee, Craving richest gifts for me ; As the hours of darkness roll Doth our farewell haunt his soul ; 4' *■■ ; 1 ^ \ Iri ,« A i it: '■ 4 ! bl 124 THE AOACIA. Banish pain from that high brow, Heal his spirit, anguished now, Safely mark his chequered track, Safely, Father, bring him back. THE ACACIA. 125 THE BRIDEGROOM'S REYERIE. I'm very sad to-night, Ellie — The memory of the past Is muttermg through my aching heart Like murmurs of the blast ; I'm thinking of the years, Ellie, The happy years long fled ; But tears are on my cheek, and thou Art with the quiet dead. ■ I'm threescore years to-day, EUie, And there tarries at my side A beautiful and gentle form — A seventeen summers' bride — Her golden curls float listlessly Around her neck of snow, And the tones of that impassioned voice Are musical and low. !' i\ f' 18'. ■';li m:\ 'I' 126 THE ACACIA. But I turn from that fair child, Ellie, To the grave-yard's silent gloom, And would freely barter life and love For the silence of thy tomb ; I miss the hand that beacon-like Pointed to upper skies ; I miss the soul which earnestly Looked forth in thy dark eyes. There are courtly guests at home, Ellie, The lamps shine in the halls, And the sounds of mirth and melody Rmg rou.'3d my stately walls ; And men have praised to-night, Ellie, The music's joyous thrill, The rich parterre, the sculptor's art. The painter's cunning skill. But the sweetest sounds to me are winds That through these willows wave, And the choicest garden I possess Are the flowers on thy grave ; THE ACACIA. 121 And the softest couch I seek, Ellie, Is thy green and grassy bed, And my choicest piece of sculptured art Is the marble at thy head. They filled the festal cup, Ellie, And o'er the flashing wine They praised the lovely girl I won To deck the marriage shrine ; Will God forgive me— o'er that child No smile of love I shed, For I drank in solemn silence To the memory of the dead. When I brought my child-bride home, Ellie, The homo that once was ours. She praised the decorated rooms, The birds, the founts, the flowers; But one sweet portrait from our walls Had vanished by that night. And she told me, with a fond caress, She hid it from my sight. w ■ i IS* ''V' I • .it 128 THE AOAOIA. Ahl did the poor child tlu^,Ellio, That you and I could part 7 Ah I -tis a sinful thing to give The hand without the heart. Goodhyel meet me in dreams, EUie- Nerve me to bear my lot. Tin I meet thee in that land, BUie, Whose dweUers"»a«y iiot- P mP ■ CONTENTS. A Mother's Sabbath Prayer, &c 85 Buried with Music, 20 Come Quickly, 8 Death of Captain Vicars, 88 Death of an Bnniskillen Officer, &c., . . . lOt Death's Prize, Ill Evening Prayers during Lent, 30 " Far Better," 68 Isabella of Yalols, 63 Lake Ontario at Sunset, 66 Little Flora, 11 Midnight, 115 Our Cottage Walls, 38 On the Echpse of the Sun, 53 Our Father's Grave, 99 m ■;,: ! II. if' TV '^i !( i.' t i 11. CONTENTS. Prayer for the Absent, 122 Kockbay, 93 The Brother's Remembrance, 3 The Bridegroom's Reverie, 125 The Dying Stranger, 11 The Exile to his Daughter, 26 The Ensign Martyr, 118 The Indian Chief, 32 The Interment of Elorizel, 41 The Lady to her Egyptian Lupin, ..... 23 The Missionary's Valedictory, 45 The Officer's Farewell, 7*7 The Poet's Evening Prayer, 59 The Pilgrim's Song of Confidence, .... *74 The Prayer of David, 14 The Saxon's Daughter, 48 The Soldier of Auvergne, 11 The Queen's Prayer, 103 The Queen's Picture, 82 Waiting for the Bell to Ring, 96 ■■^ 122 93 3 125 11 26 118 32 • • • • • nsX ..... 23 45 11 ..... 59 .... 14: 14 48 . « « . • X X 103 82 > • . < . I/O