s^. 
 
 ■A 
 
 
 
 ^ - 
 
 <% 
 
 /2 
 
 % 
 
 
 ,1^ * ^' 
 
 ? 
 
 >^ 
 
 // 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 '•' 
 
 1.0 
 
 a Mil 125 
 
 l.l 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.8 ' 
 
 Phol ^ 
 Sdâicès 
 Coippratioiï 
 
 '#^. 
 
 i 
 
 V 
 
 ! 
 
 1.25 II 1.4 
 
 1.6 
 
 ■^ 
 
 -< : . 6" — 
 
 _,. ._. — 
 
 ► 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 . WEBSTER, N. Y. USSO . 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

 /> 
 
 . o^ 
 
 CIHM 
 Microfiche 
 Séries 
 (l\/lonographs) 
 
 y 
 
 1 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 û« 
 
 
 m^^B^H 
 
 
 m] 
 
 
 HHH^H 
 
 t* 
 
 ICMH 
 
 Collection de 
 microfiches 
 (monographies) 
 
 Canadien Institutè for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques 
 
Téchnical and Bibliographie Notes / Nous techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original 
 copy available for f ilming. Features of this copy which 
 may be bibliogràphically unique, which may alter any 
 of the images in the reproduction, or which may 
 significantly change the usual method of filming. are 
 checked below. 
 
 n 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 Q Covers damaged/ 
 Couverture endommagée 
 
 n 
 n 
 n 
 n 
 n 
 n 
 
 n 
 
 □ 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaurée et/ou pelliculée 
 
 Cover title missing/ 
 
 1^ titre de couverture manque 
 
 Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes géographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other matériel/ 
 ReIK avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serrée peut causer 4» l'omljire ou de la 
 
 distorsion le long de la marge intérieure 
 
 t. '/ 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoratiôh may appear 
 within the text. Whenever possible, thèse bave 
 been omitted f rom filming/ 
 Il se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutées 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela était possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas été filmées. 
 
 Additional comments.7 
 Commentaires supplémentaires: 
 
 L'Institut a microfilmé le meilleur exemplaire qu'il 
 ^lui a été possible de se procurer. Les détails dé cet 
 ^xeniplaire qui sont pe({t-4tre uniques du point de v^e 
 bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image ' 
 r^roduite. ou qui peuvent exiger une modification 
 
 bns la méthode normale dé f ilmage sont indiqués 
 . cildessous. 
 
 Coloured pages/ 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 □ Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagées ^ 
 
 □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages l'estâ^Vées et/ou pelliculées 
 
 Pages discoloured. stained or foxed/ 
 Pages décolorées, tachetées ou piquées 
 
 □ Pages detached/ 
 Pages détachées 
 
 % 
 
 l 
 
 HShowthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 □ Quality of print varies/ 
 Qualité inégale de l'impressi^ 
 
 □ Continuous paginatiort/ 
 Pagination continue 
 
 □ Includes index(es)/ 
 Comprend un (des) index 
 
 Title on header taken from:/ 
 Le titre de l'en-téte provient: 
 
 □ Title page of issue/ 
 Page de titre de la livraison 
 
 □ Caption of issue/ 
 Titre de départ de la livraison 
 
 y" 
 
 I I Masthead/ 
 
 Générique (périodiques) de la livraison 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 This item is filmed at the réduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est filmé au taux de réduction indiquéyci-dessous 
 
 10X 14X lax 
 
 --^3P 
 
 
 
 ^2S* 
 
 - 
 
 
 ^DX^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 ."■ 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 12X 
 
 
 
 
 16X 
 
 
 
 
 20X 
 
 
 » 
 
 
 24X 
 
 
 
 28 X 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 32 X 
 
Il 
 
 »n 
 
 The copy filmed hère has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 Mational Library of Canada 
 
 Jhe images appearing herè are the beat qudllty 
 possible considertng thç condition and legibilUy 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filmlng contract spécifications. 
 
 Original copies in printdd paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the frOnt cover anà ending on 
 the last page with a printed or lllustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. Ail 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbo^ — ^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"). or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies^ 
 
 -t 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 
 ifferent réduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 èVitirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 L'exemplaire filmé fut reproduit grâce d la 
 générosité de: 
 
 Bibliothèque nationale du Canada 
 
 Les images suivantes ont été reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la netteté de l'exemplaire filmé, et en 
 conformité avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimée sont filmés en convrtiençant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernière page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires ,, 
 originaux sont filmés en commençant par la 
 première page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernière page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. | 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaîtra sur la 
 dernière image de chaque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbole —^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent être 
 filmés à des taux de réduction différente. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour être 
 reproduit en un seul cliché, il est filmé à partir 
 de l'angle supérieur gauche, de gauche à droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images nécessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la méthode. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 .^ 
 
 D 
 
 22 1 
 
♦4 
 
 :# 
 
 '♦" 
 
 r,^ 
 
 • 
 
 r*-. 
 
 »MTf^ 
 
 If 
 
 '*,-.« 
 
 |".ii 
 
 
 y' .- 
 
 
 
 ■;. 
 
 
 p 
 
 ! r 
 
 
 
 -~ ' 
 
 ■^ 
 
 F'f.* 
 
 
.-I • ( ' 
 
 \ » ' 
 
 
 
 ■ ■■ .. * 
 
 
 
 4f- ■ -§^^ 
 
 
 ï^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 7; /^lî*. *'#'"'g»'^'''-bVfi;To^ -jK'-^^- ■■'»^^ 
 
 VvA:'4 
 
 
 . * 
 

 
 ■ 'r- 
 
 
 ''-* 
 
 « # 
 
 «1 
 « 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 - ** . 
 
 
 Thi 
 
 
 ^Lth 
 
 
 ])ortion 
 
 
 a miner. 
 
 
 Uware, l 
 
 
 liiimhlc 
 
 
 *■ 
 
 1 
 
 
 ,' 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 Southpo 
 
 -v# • 
 
 ■-k 
 
 V''t 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ; 
 
 
 *. \+' 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ y 
 
 
 
 
 
 k^t 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 K 
 
 
 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 i '• 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 « 
 
 
 
 i- 
 
 
 — 
 
 . 
 
 *■ >^ /,. 
 
 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 1»' . 
 
 
 :.g 
 
 « 
 
 '.''"' •» 
 
 ,; 
 
 • /■ - > 
 
 ' ^.*i',=^ - _ 
 
 , v • 
 
 
 2v- 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
"• / 
 
 ï> 
 
 r 
 
 « 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 îjt^Hl-: following pociîis hâve l)cen printcd in this forni-at 
 
 r.lc-.thc reciuest (^f many of niy fricnds wlio hâve read a 
 
 l)(>rtif)n of theni as they appeared from tinie to time in The Ex-' 
 antiner. That they are déficient in many respects I ani well 
 aware, l)ut I know that the learned will consider their^uthor's 
 humble .position and learning, and therehy overlook • their 
 shortcomings. I feel that I can say without boasting that '' 
 they contaih nothing which will ip any way injure those who 
 may read them. To do good has been my only object in 
 writing them, and if they will fulfil that object even in the / 
 smallest degree, I shall feel that the time spent in their cfyn^- ' 
 position has yielded an abundant harvest. Upon the poeni 
 entitled " Ireland's Wrongs,'- I hâve spent no little pains 
 and thought, and my hope is that it may be the"means of 
 enlisting some in the hattle against that deadly evil, 
 intempérance, which is fast spreading over our hai)py Island ' 
 a cloud pfidarkness tp shut out the sunlight from* many 
 a bright and peacefui home. The longer as well as some 
 of the shortest poems hâve never béfore appeared in print 
 and my prayer is that a blessing from the (îiver of ail good 
 may follow fheir publication. 
 
 lu I \ 
 
 Soiithport, P. E. I., April ist, 1S89. -• ■ • 
 
 •^ 
 
 # 
 
 \ 
 

 ^^■j^^^^^B 
 
 ^IHiBHi^* 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 é^ 
 
 ^- ■ * * 
 
 
 
 
 
 wM 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 .f € 
 
 .■#■"' 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 .1 
 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 ■ • ■ 
 
 
 
 ■* 
 
 \: 
 
 
 
 
 hi 
 
 t 
 
 ^- 
 
 
 5^ 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 # 
 
 *4f ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 .■ "J v-v 
 
 -'X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 '■'" 
 
 ' . '/ 
 
 
 ■ ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "■■«■• 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 .ir- ' ■ , 
 
 
 1 
 
 . ^- \ ... 
 
 1 
 
 - . 
 
 
 < 
 
 • 1 
 
 1 
 
 ; • 
 
 I 
 
 1 . ■ 1 , 
 
 
 ♦) 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 ■'v '•" 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ - 
 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 1' 
 
 ■> 
 
 
 
 
 
 "i 
 
 ' ' 
 
 
 
 
 t- 
 
 1' 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 
 
 c 
 
 ' • 
 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 \ 
 
 S} 
 
 / 
 
 <• 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 - 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 B.i 
 
 <"> 
 
 
 
 
 
 ;r 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Of 
 
 '«d 
 
 ""7 
 
 
 
 
 „ 
 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 
 As 
 
 ■^ 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 
 Pu 
 
 .Ç-^' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 V. 
 
 • 
 
 
 - / ■ 
 
 .• 
 
ÎRELAND'S^ WRONGS; 
 
 OR. 
 
 The Reign of King Alcohol. 
 
 PART FIRS'I-. 
 
 THE GEM OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 
 
 In broad St. Lawrence Culf, whose depths receivc 
 
 The waters of tîiat mighty stream, whose lakcs. 
 
 In beauty and in magnitude, surpass 
 
 An others,^-in that gulf of many isles, 
 
 One spot there was, in peace and happiness,' 
 
 The king of ail the rest, Prince Edward IslJ. 
 
 "Pis near that favoured land, whosp heroine, 
 
 The beautiful and chaste Evangeline, ' ^ 
 
 Called forth Longfellow's Muse ; arid'strange it seeni? 
 
 That such a quiet spot for love and dreams 
 
 Should fail to share the compiuiy of-one 
 
 Who loved a clime where peace arrd plehty shone. 
 
 This happy Isle, some four-score years ago, 
 Was stranger to the vices " hich hâve made '" 
 'Phe greater part of th#fair earth a curse ; 
 But, like the happy paradise of old, 
 .'Twas doomed to fall a victira tô the wiles 
 Of Satan in as terrible a form 
 As he appeared to Eden's sinless pair. , 
 
 Jlysteredin^ÊacefuLgroups 0^ thisfair landr 
 
 'Phe simple, honest tillers of the soi! 
 Pursued their quiet tasks. Each had enoûgh, 
 
 I:S- 
 
 ^.^- 
 
. - . IRF.LANI) S \VK()X(;S" 
 
 l'or ail alike werc diligent and none 
 Hâd cause to trample on a fuUow-nian. 
 
 Nestled amid the fir and hardy birch, 
 Upon a calm and charming land-locked bay, 
 
 Was Charlottetown, the capital and port. 
 In sunimer at her docks were seen the sbips 
 Of Merrie England, '«'ith their merchandise 
 From foreign lands to meet the modest wants 
 Of simple f)eople. Other craft was there 
 Receiving, in return, the generous loads 
 Of produce to supply the pressing calls ; 
 '( jf those who lived in less productive lands. 
 
 There could be seen the hardy fisherman, 
 With weather-beaten brow and kindly eye, 
 
 Disposing of his varions scaly^wares. 
 
 Around the ever busy market place 
 
 The simple country people flocke4 each day ; 
 1 )escendants of the Scotch or English race 
 
 Were most of them, with Kere and there a stray 
 Red Indian, oî copper-coloured face, 
 
 Besidé his squaw, papooses, and display 
 Of tubs and baskets spread for sale around ;, 
 AU smoking as th-ey sat upon the ground. 
 
 Along the busy streets no selfish crowd, 
 
 With brutal ruden€ss or a thirst for gain, 
 Thrust weaker fellows froin/he way ■,\ none proud 
 
 Ôr haughty strove, with^larfces, to distain ; 
 There e'en the frailestj»^ "aU clainis allowed 
 
 Ajid vanity was^^Tied, fotïew we re vain. - 
 
 Ëach^^mâ+tf^d the gérerai harmôhy T"^ 
 \nd ail tHeir ways betokenè^ charity. , 
 
 \ 
 
 \' 
 
 m 
 

 ay 
 
 strav 
 
 ~N 
 
 proiul 
 n ; 
 d 
 
 n. 
 
 AM^OTHKK l'OllMS. 
 
 
 Xc viHoift idlcrs roanied about ilic strcct, 
 With guilty mien and iitterings profluif, 
 
 15cnt on sonic'craven action slu.uld thcy imct 
 Sufficient opportunity to gain 
 
 l'hcir selfish end. No,fraiid or hase deceit 
 Uas practited hy the traders as tlie main 
 
 Siuress in business : eaeh valued most" 
 . An honest name no niatter what it cost ^ . ' 
 
 l'hat crowning evil, Satan's hosoni ïfiend. 
 
 King Alcohol, had neer disturhed the peacv - 
 Ofthis well-favoredland. No driinken fk-nd. ^ , 
 
 With hloated face, endeavored to ai)peâse ' 
 His raging thirst for poison. Such an end 
 
 Was dreaded more than death.; nor did ihev (cas,. 
 I o pray that such a soul-destroying curse • 
 Would hever corne theirloved imCs to (hsp>r,e. 
 
 . ** 
 In winter time, around the heechen fire '^ 
 
 The rosy chiidren of the farmer sat -. 
 Some hstening 'nter^Avhile their sire 
 
 Taught them the^ening tasks ; then after that 
 He told them pleasing taies at tïfcir désire. 
 Or gladjy listent/id to their chiidish chat : 
 'ihe rest, the girls helped mother knit or sew, 
 ^ And ail lookeçi cheerful as the hearth-stcme's gk.w. 
 
 'l'heir Sabbath was the happiest of days, 
 
 And to the church al! flocked from far and near 
 fo ofifer up their 4)rayers'and songs of praise 
 _ To Him they loved above att else most denr.=-^ 
 And God was with them; for no vain displays 
 
 r 
 
 
4 
 
 V "- 
 
 f 
 
 iuelan-d's wkongs • 
 
 l'arnished their simple worship. Plain and clear 
 l'he paslor's.voice mac^e know^ each'great command, 
 Until the dullest mmd could understand, 
 
 'l'hus were they ever hî^ppy, evier.free 
 
 From countlessyices known to other lands. 
 
 They h^dno alms-house, for no poverty \ 
 
 WaTi ever known. No thiéves or blq^-stàined hands' 
 
 Were thrust in prison cells for safety. \ 
 
 They, had no lawyérs, having no cleman^s 
 
 For such. Their law was simple faith andlov^ ; 
 
 Their statute.s written by the Ifand above. 
 
 / 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 ,A HAPPY PROSPECT. 
 
 \ 
 
 ^, 
 
 'Twâs Autumri, and the busy husbandman 
 Was cutting down the yellow, bending grain. 
 The scène was on the sea-shore, and the view 
 Exterfded to the high and rocky coast ^ 
 Of Npva Scdlia, forty miles away. . 
 •The islet at the entrance4o the port 
 Of CharlottetoWn loomed up against the sky, 
 With hère and«there a cozy white-washed*hut, . 
 The quiet homes qf har^y fisherïnen. t 
 
 The shadows lengthened fast and ail was^till 
 Except the reaper and his foUbwers 
 Who, close beside him, raked and bound the grain. 
 The near-approaching l^ell and lusty low 
 Told plainly that the cows were coming home ; 
 . Ahd in the western sky the bright glow told 
 
 "Of fast-approaching night. The workers^rtoo^ 
 
 Had left their^former tasks and cheerfully 
 
 J 
 
 V 
 
 L 
 A 
 A 
 A 
 B 
 A 
 
 '■'ai 
 
 '"''1' 
 
 > > le 
 Ar 
 
 Th 
 An 
 Als 
 An 
 An 
 
 1 41 
 
 \^ttlK-^ 
 
 'Z.I, Jr' '^v,' i'h.'J.J-téi 
 
 ■,:* 
 
{ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ined hands' 
 
 \ 
 
 3v^ ; 
 
 , \ 
 
 \ ' 
 
 AND OTHER POKMS. r 
 
 Retra, :ed their footsteps ori the homeward way . 
 
 I Jrey passed through fiëlds of many pleasing shadcs 
 1 he meadows, mowri a few short weeks ago 
 Were whiteVithclover of the second growth ^ - 
 1 he turniprâelds,^pow only in tbeir prime ; ' * 
 ^er^overed with a^be^of living green ;' : , ' 
 Vyhile. next in tu»;^ brôad potato* patch", ^ 
 
 Clothed in a covering of varièd hues, 
 ; Kvincfed thatit was near maturity. ' .' 
 
 A fe^. more meadows passed.and there appeared, 
 Upoi^ a slopmg hi» that faced the sea 
 A chacming cottage- almost hidden by' ^ 
 A heavy growth of grape and ivy vines ; 
 And in the rear ^ fruittTil orchard bowed 
 Beneath a load of red and fellow fruit 
 Across the threshold.sprang, Ah gladsome cry, ' 
 ,^ 1 he merry children, hastejing to ^eef 
 
 a he|r father and their brothers>ho, 4n tutn " ' 
 ,. <ia^e ea<^,4 l^iss and in theif brawny arms ' ' 
 
 ^ the^^to wife and mother at the door / 
 Theri came the comely lasses fr<^m the barn 
 Bearing fhe pail^ pf miîk, fresh'from the cows 
 ^o share the welcome which the rest received 
 And jom them in the simple eyening meal. 
 The cheerful supper ;lone, ail gathered' in 
 1 he spacious hallway to enjçy the pure 
 And-healthful air wafted from off the spa • 
 Also to talk about the stock and crops ' 
 And-what ail carefùl people ought to do-^ ■ 
 Arrangea j^rogrami/e for the morrow's .work 
 
 r* 
 
 :'%*■ 
 
 jretHerwwW^ rerire, with rpra^r 
 ïhat God would bless-them thrqjugh another d^. 
 
 >^* 
 
 V iiJ.^'ï.^ii*.»,!»^»'. ,<-.l»f<^ 
 
 
 
 #.v 
 
 «'* 
 
 /^. 
 
I' ' 
 
 i 
 
 ireland's wrongs , \ 
 
 > " > 
 
 The night was beautiful. A full, round moon 
 Shone brightly from the starry, cloudless sky, 
 Lighting up nature with a radiance 
 As truly charming as the king of day. 
 The peace that rested on old nature's face 
 
 Was truly rivalled by the merry group , . 
 
 Who gazéd delighted on so fair a scène. 
 
 " Oh, iKipa dear !" a little maid exclaimed, j 
 
 " Do corne and see the great, big^hip,— be qUick,- 
 
 It's going in the harbour and will soon 
 
 Be out of Bight,— corne mamma, Fanny, Bob, 
 
 And ail of you 1" This éloquent appeal 
 
 lirought every hearer quickly to the door ; 
 
 And then just entering the harbour's mouth 
 
 Was a huge vessel, dimly visible > 
 
 Among the shadows of the cljffs and trees 
 
 Which rose abraptly from the waters edge. 
 
 Her every sail was ^et, and yet she'made 
 
 But little headway, for the gentle breeze 
 
 Was scarce enough to keep her canvaà taut. 
 
 " Oh ! it's a man-of-war !" said Sturdy Bob, 
 
 A likely lad, and always to the front 
 
 To, offer his opinions, right or wrong ; i 
 
 But, seeing father gently shake his head, 
 
 Bob paused a moment while his father said : — 
 
 " No Bob my boy ît's not a man-of-war 
 
 But it's the ship we've ail been looking for 
 
 Thèse few past weeks." "I know which onc you mcan,' 
 
 Said bright-eyed Fanny, " It's the one that has 
 
 The load of emigrants from Ireland." 
 
 " Ye styp" nre ri ght my dear," her father said, (^ 
 
 -«?- 
 
 " And in the morning ail of us shall go 
 
 To Charlottetown and see them come on shore." 
 
 
 

 ,-,'f'siJi'i^É.i 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 At this the children clapped their «hands for joy 
 And went to bed that night with hapi)y hearts. 
 
 PART THIRD. 
 
 • œ.\Fn)P:NCE— '.'COMING EVENTS," ETC. 
 
 Next morning dawned as beautiful and bright 
 
 As any heart could wish, and through the 'air 
 
 The jqyful birds were flittj^o and fro 
 
 AVith screams ofpleasure, welcoming the sun. ' 
 
 The inmates of the cottage were astir 
 
 As early as the birds and just as gay. 
 
 Before the sun had risen or the dew 
 
 Hegan to leave.the grass and drooping flowers. 
 
 Ail had their morning tasks neatlv performed, 
 
 Their breakfast o'er, and ready to set ont 
 
 ^1 o welcome the worn strangere. At the door 
 
 'J'he horse and cart stood rcady to convey 
 
 Parents and children to the ferry-boat. 
 The wharf was reached to which the boai was moored, 
 
 And soon the jo^ous group were gliding on 
 
 The océan waters of the Hillsborough. 
 
 The glassy surface of the river shohe 
 
 Resplendently beneath the Autumn sun 
 
 Just risen from behind the eastern hilLs ; 
 
 ^Vhile, mirrorèd on its surface, were the town 
 
 And its surrounding signs of industry. 
 .The river crossed, they landed at the pier • 
 
 Close by the foreign vessel with its load 
 Of precious spuls corne hither for to seek 
 Jrecd om a n d fo rtune - whi eft t fa^wereTtemër- 
 ^n their own island, far across the sea. 
 Wiih hurried steps and hear^ with welcome filled, ' 
 
 ■ / 
 
 ^"T- 
 
 
 
 -îi^ 
 
'•V 
 
 8 . ireland's WR0N(US 
 
 The kindly people flocked from fak- and near 
 To welcome to their isle their fellow-men. 
 And offer aid to those who were in need. 
 On board the ship the strangers were astir 
 As early as their friends upon the shore. 
 The deck was filled with waiting, weary soûls, . 
 Eager to leave their prison and once çiore 
 
 Feel underneath their feet the soHd land. 
 
 ./ 
 
 A motley crowd they were, of every âge 
 
 From infancy to second childhood's days. 
 ().ld men with wrinkled brow, which, like a page 
 
 Of history, told the reader ail the ways 
 Of their past lives ; hard usage aftd neglect 
 
 Were stamped on every feature ; and their forms, 
 So far from being graceful or erect, 
 
 Were bent by other means than years and storms. 
 Young gray-heads showed that lives virère quickly run 
 And âge was come ère manhood was begun. 
 
 Pale women stood with haggard look and mien, 
 
 AU beauty faded from their pallid brow ; 
 Poor reliçts from the sorrow they had seen 
 
 And which so plainly marked their features now. 
 With downcast eye they leaned against the rail 
 
 As though they yet were wholly unaware 
 That they were in a land where ail could bail 
 
 The liberty which ail were free to share. 
 But, like a ca^ed bird when first set free, 
 , The way to liberty they scarce could see. 
 
 'Màidenslmd loverslftyly stôod aparî^ ~ 
 
 The flush of youthful hope and bashful love 
 
 iîiù* •■..,>•», 
 
 *■.. 
 
 ^ 
 
 :>.,tvM .?■ 
 
 
AND OTHER l'OEMS. 
 
 s, , 
 
 form.s, 
 
 torms. 
 kly run 
 
 n, 
 
 now. 
 
 ^«ghting thcir faces with a glow that art 
 
 Could neyr do justice to. As far above ' 
 I he earth a$ is the sun their vision soared 
 
 Beyond tliat of the waiting, doubting host 
 Of sires ai^ of mothers who endured 
 ; Long jéars of hardship. that, whate'er it cost 
 he,r c|/.ldren might be spared the toiJ and strife 
 VVhich/m their native land, would burden life. * 
 
 Othei/s in,awful contrast waited there, 
 
 G^zing with swollen eyes and selfish look 
 Lpoo the fields and orchards, then so fair 
 
 W.th harvest and ripe fruit ; and their hands shook 
 L.ke wahered leaves still hanging to the bough. 
 
 Iheir whole appearance told the fearful taie 
 1 hat they were slaves to rum and even now 
 
 VVere under its viie influence ; but, like Baal, 
 Satan re.gned in their h«arts, and t^ey could feel 
 ^o shame or mercy at their friends' appeal. 
 
 \ C:hildren were there, in arms and ^by the side 
 Of worn and broken-hearted mothers who 
 Had naught to love but them and bravely tried 
 
 As only mothers will, to keep their true 
 Heehngs bound up within the burdened breast 
 
 And show their darlings but the love and light. • 
 Happy, mdeed, were they thus to be blest 
 
 In childhood, with a lot as pure and bright 
 As hère awaited them ; and where each one 
 M.ght grow to noble heights 'neath freedoms sun 
 
 TowHTe gàng-piank is, w7th friendlv hands 
 rhrown from the vessel's rail to the strong pier 
 
 tt* 
 
 \ 
 
 .,* A-Vi";., ifiÈA. 
 
 
 
10 
 
 IRELAND S WRONGS 
 
 \. 
 
 ^Vhich now is crowded to its very edge 
 
 With town and country people, pld and young. 
 
 On board the ship the waiting emigrants 
 
 '' Flock to the rail, as eager for to land j 
 As are their waiting friends to lend a hand '■ 
 In helping feeble âge and thoughtless youth 
 'l o disembark with ease and safety. 
 Then, while the strangers gladly, one by one, 
 Stept from thejr close confinement to the shore, 
 This song of welcome greeting rose in notes, 
 
 " Hearty and clear, from out a thousand tjiroats :- - 
 
 Thrice welcome ye wand'rers from over the océan 
 
 To this happy country where liberty dwells ; 
 May the peace that ye seek banish ev'ry commotion 
 
 And fill ever breast that adversity swells, 
 Fear not ye faint-hearted — 'tis friends who await thee- 
 
 Come cheerily forwàrd, no tyrant is Aère ; 
 Take courage ye weary— 'tis warm hearts that greet thee 
 
 Come with us and share us in hearty good cheer. 
 
 Thrice welcome ye victims of base superstition, 
 
 Too long h^ve ye labored 'neath tyra^nny's yoke ; 
 Throw ofT every fetter and let your submission 
 
 Be unto the One who has borne every stroke. 
 Pay homage to no one save He who has freed you 
 
 And brought you thus safely to this happy is)e : 
 Be cheerful, for hère are no wolves to impede yoti, 
 
 And life's deepest frown will be turned to a smile 
 
 Thrice welcome ye poverty-stricken andcheerless, 
 — Hère plenty avraits-thèe ttijr toriy ttrrepay : — ~ 
 Frosperity sheds o'er the godly and fearless 
 
 i-œsmœi s tii isrmj stiai 
 
AND OTHEK POEMS. • , , 
 
 The mantle of Gladness ,o iight every „ay 
 "'"de I„scord, and Ha.red .o ^s are ail s.ra'nger, 
 
 VVe feel „„, .heir sorrows, we know no, ,he,fc 're, • 
 <.oodw, I and Eq„ali,y shield us fton, dangers ' 
 
 AndLovebindsuscloselyin-allourafffSrs . 
 
 This kindly welcome from warm-hearted friends 
 Remo,es .he s,n.ngers- fears and ^ij/^^î 
 Ihe anx,ous, doubtfui look fron, off.Ke bro" 
 
 Ofmanywearyoneswhcumilnow, 
 
 May never havé been greeled with a voice 
 
 Such as would cause .heir spirits to rejoke 
 
 Ihe women and ,he aged trustingly, 
 
 W,,h looks ofgra.,.ude, accompany 
 1 he serudy housewives to their cozy homes ■ 
 ro share their bountv. Close behinrfT 
 A flock of ehlldren, ga.lan. ^fet ^d "" ''""''' 
 r^d,ng the younger s.ra„gers by ,he hand 
 
 On board ,he ship ,he raen and boys are ail 
 Busy ass,s.,ng, „i,h the .ruck and fall 
 
 Barrels and bo.es, furn iture and ».n^ 
 
 / 
 
 -every^wrç^Both singly and in pairs ■ " 
 
 Horses and cows, sheep. fowl, and hun'gry pigs, 
 
 '£MUi,::k'i!^^i^'^0-i'fi'-'&3'^'-'tf- 
 
 % 
 
"*-v 
 
 u-ran,,-.: ^^. ,. , ., . 
 
 ■ \.l 
 
 -! M 
 
 y^ \ IkELANr3's WKOJ^GS 
 
 Rqugh farming implements, carts", sleighs, ând gigs. 
 And otherthings^too numerous to mention, 
 liven /f it were worth time and attention, 
 Were piled amid discordant soundg and cries, 
 Without regard to species,, worth or size. 
 
 ■ il 
 
 îi- 
 
 PART FOURTH. 
 
 IRISH (iRATITUDE- DOUBTS AND FEARS. 
 
 When ail was landed, so the çaptain said, 
 And while the people with a little dread 
 Beheld the strange assortment strewn around, 
 And wohdered where on board the room was found 
 Kor such a cargo, a rough voice called out 
 Krom the dark hold, '* Captain, you stupid lout, 
 You| bave not taken up the rum and rye, 
 And by this time the boys must ail be dry." 
 
 At this each hardy tar and foreigner 
 With an assenting nod said " Right you are *" 
 Then one rough fellow, with a crimson face 
 And wicked leer, sa4d, " Boys it's a disgrâce 
 To our old country that we did not treat 
 Our jolly friends the moment that our feet 
 l'ouched .shore ; but, boys, it is not yet too îate,— 
 Come on my jovial friends,-- corne captain, mate, ' 
 And drt'nk our health and long prôsperity, 
 Likewise our comrades' far accross the sea ; 
 And may we never lack the good old glass 
 
 Of sherry or Bourbon ; boys let it pass." 
 
 At this rough speech and the still rougher mood 
 
 Of those they thought deserving, kind, and good, 
 
 Je imsuspecting^ I s l a o dfets^aU stooA. 
 
 In speechless horror and amazement. Could 
 
 
 'î^y'*:. 
 
 ■¥ 
 ^ 
 
 ■*t*jft. 
 
 ,^ 7 +Jwd 
 
 ,>.#'%•*'* 
 
AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 
 l-he wanderers they welcomed as their own ^ 
 
 ^.onsist of such as they? What power hati thrown 
 bucTi monsters on their pure and happy isle ' 
 o steal, perhaps, their comforts and beguile 
 heir children and companions ? Çould it be 
 / hat'they had brought with them across the sea 
 he cr,mes|ind vices which were such a curse 
 1 o Ireland and other lands ? Or worse 
 'i'han ail, was that evi'l of evils, drùi/b « 
 
 To devastate their land and deeply sink/ 
 1 hem in the gulf of misery and strife >/— . 
 
 AVh.ch never fails to blight the purest life ? ' 
 
 _ Ihose were the bitter thoughts which swiftly «n 
 Uke daggers through the heart of every man 
 
 ho looM with deep disgust upon the one 
 AV ho st.ll was pressing them. to " Drink for furt " 
 iiut seemg his entreaties were in vain 
 He turned to those he knew would not refrain 
 Each em,grant in silence drained his glass 
 Hushed by the firm refusai of the raen ^ 
 
 Scarcely a word was spoken while they ail - 
 Hoisted the kegs and cases from the hold 
 Apd placed themby the goods upon the wharf 
 
 .1 hat was a silent crowd which left the ship 
 And bnskly walked towards their pleasant homes 
 bcattered m groups around the quiet town- 
 For, notwithstanding what had corne to pass " 
 Upon the ship, scarce half an hour ago 
 
 I he kmd and hospitable Islanders 
 Invited ail the emigrants to join 
 
 Bee, safely housed, until the men woufd comé. ' 
 The waiting ones. not knowing what had passed, 
 
 ■• 
 
 Vp,i!^Sfe»j^ 
 
 •*. 
 
 */* 
 
 0!^fi' 
 

 M ireland's \vron(;s 
 
 Soon knew that something far from pleasant had 
 Transpired in their absence; for the look 
 Of pain and shame which was so plainly seen 
 Upon the faces of the men and boys, 
 , Who looked so happy when thej^ left the ship, 
 Was ample proof that such must be the case. 
 
 VVell might the honest children and housewives, 
 Amid the peaqe and quiet of their homes, 
 Wonder what could hâve brought the troubled frown 
 Where now, above ail other pleasant times, 
 They looked to see a greater beam of ]oy; 
 4 For ne'er before had any cause to grieve 
 
 Excçpt wïien forced to part from some loved one. 
 
 And yetin spite of ail the doubts and fears 
 Which troubled the kind Islanders, the sanie 
 , Assistance and free hospitality 
 Were shown to ail the strangers, who, in turn, 
 Tried not lo i^oundthe feelings of tht^r friends 
 , By carefully avoiding every strife 
 
 And following their peaceful, humble ways. 
 
 Soon ail forgot the trouble on the ship 
 
 And hoped they ne'er would see the like again. 
 
 A week passed by; a very busy ^Veek 
 For Islanders and foreigners; ail gave 
 Their labor and attention to the work 
 Of building fittle cabins on the farms 
 Which were alotted to the emigrants, 
 And where they were to make their future homes. 
 
 Upon the outskirts of the settlement. 
 Adjacent to the city, was the land / 
 
 They had to clear anë then to cultivate; 
 —- And at the end ot that shon, trusy week 
 
 The strangers were ail comfortably housed 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^ 
 
 \ 
 
 ;.TVTÏrJ»!HI 
 
AND OTHEK l'OEMS. 
 
 In cozy nooks beside the heavy wood 
 Of beech, birch, ash and maple, fir and spruce- 
 I he forest pnmeval where roamed the bear ' 
 Sqmrfel and fox, lynx, muskrat, n.ink and hare. 
 PART FIFTH 
 
 STORM SIGN'S.-REINFORCEMENTS. 
 
 ' Twas early Spring and the new settlement 
 Uasallastirwithbusyemigrants, 
 Who, with Sharp saws and axes fe'lled the trees 
 In the immédiate vicinity 
 
 AIIn-^!."^'fr- S««" ^hey had a space 
 Ali piled and burned and waiting for the seed, 
 Wh.ch, m a soil for its fertility 
 The peer of any country on the globe, 
 V.elded a crop which gkddened every heart 
 . And drove gaunt poverty far from their doors 
 
 Nearto the centre of the settlement, 
 A roomy, boarded structure had been built 
 VVh.ch was, by far, the largest out of town 
 I h.s was the store, kept by an emigrant, ^ \ 
 An Irishman of ruddy countenance 
 And burly form; the san.e whd, on the day 
 He and h.s comrades la,«Ied on the pier 
 Pressed h.s good friends, the Islanders. t^ drink 
 It was a grocery and hardware store 
 A dT-goods shop. and.everything c^mbined; ' 
 
 And on us shelves, without regard to kind 
 Or tidmess, were packed the n«merous 
 Necessu,es(?)ofl.ïe. Be hind the case, 
 
 15 
 
 • n 
 
 , .. ^ ( 
 
 ...... : ' -— ^vtjiuu me case, 
 
 =Wh«*^ serrée Wdeslc and counter. sattS^ 
 Propnetor of the establishment, 
 
 v<mM*-i^ 
 
 \-- 
 
 ♦ ■ 
 
rW- 
 
 i6 
 
 IKELANDS WKONGS 
 
 t 
 
 i; ! 
 
 !li ! 
 
 !!1 
 
 Smoking a grimy pipe which constdntly 
 He kept between h-is teeth, save now and their 
 When he was seen ta take it from his mouth 
 On entering a small and darkened room, 
 Sojmètimes close followed by a customer. 
 
 The Islanders at times went th§re to buy, 
 Hoping this way to keep on frfen<iJy ternis 
 With tbcir new neighbors who, by every means, 
 Strove to secure the custom of their friends, 
 And give them not the* slightest cause to doubt. 
 But, do their best, the wily emigrants 
 Could not conceal from the sharp «Islanders 
 The fat't that, uhderneath a fair dIsguise, 
 I )ishonest dealing was being .carried on, 
 As well as sinful appetites indulged. 
 
 Before a year of résidence was |>assed 
 In their new homes, most of the /emigrants 
 Had lost'the good impressions and chaste ways 
 Which they received when with/ the Islanders, 
 And seemed to follow after for L while. 
 Slowly, but just as surely, they relapsed 
 Into the ways and habits which they brought, 
 (ireat was the pity, from " Old Ireland. " 
 This bitter truth most plainly was revealed 
 After a second troop of emigrants 
 Arrived to swell the, Irish settlement, 
 Brought over by the flattering accounts 
 Of the fertility and happiness 
 Of this fair isle and its inhabitants. . , >«: 
 
 The time was come'at which the emigrants, 
 Encouraged and elated by the new 
 -Arrivais of th e ir f e llowcountrymcn,- 
 
 Grew bolder and less friendly every day 
 
 > 
 
 :^ ": 
 
 «^ .' 
 
 M>ï'i<^#-?. 
 
\ 
 
 AND OTIIKR l'OKMS. 
 
 rowardthe Ver^ji^e who had^been ' 
 So kmd and helpfui when they were in need 
 And strangers in a new and foreign lan/ 
 ïhat anc.ent proverb, "As the twig isient 
 ■So w.ll the tree incline," was verified 
 I> fair face and fine but deceitful way.s 
 H ère being put aside, and in their stead \ 
 the genulne display and character 
 Were now beginning to be kno.wn and feit 
 Anlbng the much alarmed Islanders * 
 , The spaciou&^ore and its pror.rietor, 
 ihe most important, were the first to thro^v 
 Aj.de the.r fair disguiSé, and had become 
 he chief attraction of the settlemeatv 
 he secret, darkened room had been enlarged 
 And was no longer entered privately - 
 
 A door and Windows, facing on the road, 
 Removedalî doubts as to its cha«cter, 
 tor, ihrough them, every traveller could see ^ 
 1 ne bar and its accompanying stock 
 Of bottles, flasks, kegs, jars and tumblers • , 
 And at one end a^àoice^riety) ^ 
 
 Oi- pipes, çigars, tobacco,lfid like stuff 
 Sulted to such as fréquent taverns. 
 
 At night, espepally in thê winter time, 
 •And on the Sabbaths throughout^all the year 
 Ihe.tavern keeper was welj patronized. " 
 
 rwas there the emigrams, women and men 
 ( Jf everjr âge, assembled to discuss 
 Ail matters which rèlated to themselves 
 Aad, very often, to the Islanders. 
 
 >< 
 
 ' J 
 
 y 
 
 f: 
 
 <J1 oft repeated bracm to the htalth 
 
 '^'tiaitS!:'.i'm^^'f''ÂiM S ,ii 
 
 W^ Si««fflf' lit ^l^*li<V 
 

 T 
 
 ig 
 
 IKELANDS WRONGS 
 
 w 
 
 Of ihiiXT f^ood friend the keeper, th»t thcy fought 
 And setf J^'d ail their petty diff'rerrces. 
 Twas there tbe sober arvd industrious, 
 Who were nqt few among the emigrants, 
 Passed many sorrowful and weary hours 
 Beseephing friends and kindred to go home 
 Vo their hcart-broken wives and little onés. 
 
 'Twas plain to see that, uader no restraiAt,- 
 The strangers ne'er would prosper but sink éi 
 Into a State far lowcr than jhe first ; 
 l'or when, through the assistance of their friends, 
 rhey were ail comfortably settled dowh 
 And left with ways afîd^eans which well employecl 
 Would lead thenv on to lortune, they began 
 At once to ^ter on the downward way. 
 
 Apjr PART SIXTH. 
 
 A NEW SCENE AND AN APPEAL. 
 
 It was a nierry Christmas Eve, 
 -The second since the first ship came 
 And brought the load of emigrants 
 
 To fair Prince .Edward Isle. 
 The ground was warmly clad \n snow ; 
 The moon and stars shone clear and bright 
 From out an azuré, cl 
 /^l^hedding abroa 
 
 Nature seemed stiU and fast asleep, 
 Savç the shy rabbit as he skipped 
 . From bush to busH, cropping thé buds 
 ^^at^rew within i iis reacb î==^ 
 
 ,f^l 
 
 And the lone owl who, from his perçh 
 
 
. \ 
 
 r* 
 
 y fought 
 
 ir friends, 
 
 i\\ employecl 
 îgan 
 
 le 
 
 3w; 
 
 id bright 
 
 'JMM^ 
 
 .iH 
 
 >uds 
 
 rph 
 
 AND OTHKR PpEMS. 
 
 On some dilapidated tree, 
 iiroice the déep silence of the night 
 By a long, piercing screech. 
 
 The lamp-Iit stores of Charlottetown 
 Were cVowde.d with the couniry-folk 
 From farand near, assembled there 
 
 To pureté the siipplies 
 With which to «tlebrate the day 
 On which the blessée^ Lord was born 
 And give theirJittle ones at home 
 7' Their usual surprise^ 
 
 As yet no eiîiigrant had conie 
 Within the borders of the town, 
 .Except to purchase articles 
 
 Not found.in Patrick's store; 
 For, at thi& time, the citizens - 
 transacted their own business, 
 And ail perfoflfted their simple' tasks.. 
 Unaided, as before. 
 
 No wealthy firms had yet appeared 
 As many did in after years, 
 To gather want and poverty 
 
 And nourish crime and pride. 
 Caste, luxury, and jeafeusy 
 Were things the Islanders. contrived " - 
 To hve.and love without and keep 
 Far distant from their side. 
 
 A jby fii l h an d had I cft the t oWn, 
 Consisting of a dozen sleighs 
 Loade^ with Christmas offerings. 
 
 19 
 
 r 
 
 Ai 
 
 ^ «i- i 
 
 ^^.' 
 
 ,.^'i:;v iiC: - ■'■^■:^:S4iJi^'ir' 
 
 .!Ti. 1&, ■' 
 
 ....^ 
 
 • — .'':k *■■ ■■ 
 
h: 
 
 r 
 
 .* 
 
 
 «b 
 
 rr 
 
 20 \ IRELAND s VVRONCS 
 
 AH on their homeward waj*. 
 They talked about what each would put 
 Into the stockings, which c'en now^ 
 ^ H ung on the lines, for "Santa Clans 
 
 Might early corne their way." 
 
 -» ■ ■ 
 
 The way led on past wood and hill, 
 Straight through the Irish settlement 
 And by the very road at which 
 
 Was Patrick's domicile. 
 The nature of the shanty was- 
 Now known to every Islander, 
 Although as yet they did not know 
 
 To what extent 'twas vile. 
 
 / Did they but know the fearful sway 
 
 That this accursed rum-hole held 
 O'er the surrounding settlement, 
 
 Their joyousness would cease 
 Oxy nearing such a wicked den 
 Which was so soon to give them pain 
 "Such as they never felt before, 
 
 And rob them bf their peace. 
 
 Did they but know the fearful power 
 That kept increasing, every day, 
 And robbing youth and innocence 
 Of every hope and joy, 
 i That would hâve been a tearful group 
 — Qf tender-hcartcd JskndcrSr — -—^ := 
 
 And Christmas Eve with ail its bliss 
 Would not their thoughts employ. 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 1 
 
 ..." 
 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 '/•'•■ ■■ '■: : .... 
 
 
 Ik^Li 
 
 
 
 ■ /^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 lÉiàk^;: 
 
 1 
 
AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 But soon, too soon they were to hear 
 Unholy sounds and see sad sights 
 Such as were strange jind new to them, 
 
 But none the less severe ; 
 For, even no)v, five rods away,' 
 The drunken shouts and ribal'd songs 
 Were wafted far and loudly on 
 
 The air so calm and clear. 
 
 Patrick's foui shanty was ablaze ' 
 
 With antiquated tallow dips, 
 
 And through the Windows could.be seen 
 
 The reeling, surging band ; 
 Som««eated on the rough birch stools 
 Havmg, from fréquent tipplings, ' 
 Lost ail their little sensé and their 
 ij-- AbiJity to stand, 
 
 Others, not yet so fgr advanced, 
 Staggered about with oaths and jeers, 
 Inviting their companions up 
 
 To " Hâve another drink ;" 
 While Patrick stood behind thé bar 
 Serving his thirsty customers, 
 Keeping them straight, and ^eedily 
 
 Relieving them of " Chink." 
 
 ft 
 
 Around the building stood the teams 
 Some hitched to posts, others in charge 
 QLwome n so rr oMul and co l< i ^=^ 
 
 21 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 Or children thinly clad ; 
 VVbile on the road stood j«any more, 
 4 
 
 "Hài.k' '' 
 
 ,'iAv 
 
 .•■'* 
 
ii 
 
 1 i '; 
 
 4^: 
 
 .^^o 
 
 '2 2 IRELANbS WRONGS 
 
 ' Blocking the way so none coqld pass, 
 « And watched by more unfortunates ; 
 AU waiting chilled and sad. 
 
 i|| This was the unexpected scène 
 
 VVhich, on that long-remembered night, 
 Met the good people as they came 
 
 So joyfuUy along. 
 VVell might they gaze with speechless dread 
 Well might their tears in pity flow, 
 And well might sorrow for the weak 
 
 Arouse the brave and strong. 
 
 iTie waiting wives and children, now 
 Half perished and heart-broken, when 
 They saw the Islanders approach, 
 » Knew that 'twas friertds were there ; 
 
 For quickly ail were gathered 'round 
 The group, no longer merry, thus 
 Beseeching them with many tears ■ ^ 
 
 And accents of despair : — 
 
 ■#»■ 
 
 " O friends, dear friends, stay with us hère *? 
 
 And do not go away 
 Or we will die with cold and fear 
 
 Before another day ; 
 Our sons and husbands went inside 
 
 And left us hère to wait, 
 But freeze we must if we abide, 
 
 And it is getting late. 
 
 " We left the townatearly £ ye, 
 
 And on arriving hère 
 They said ' Let's haye one drink and leave 
 
 4 
 
 Ife 
 
/ 1 
 
 / 
 
 .ss, 
 
 ight, 
 
 ss dread. 
 
 
 w 
 
 hère ; 
 d 
 
 rt 
 
 US hère ^' 
 
 d lea 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 Friend Pat a Christmas chéer ' ; 
 And then we waited patiently 
 
 Until an hour passed ; • 
 «ut still they did not corne, and we 
 
 Began to fear at last. 
 
 " We left the horses standing hère, 
 
 Crept softiy to the door, 
 Peeped in, and sauf what made us fear 
 
 Far greater than before ; , " 
 
 TJie room was full of drunken men 
 
 VVho swore and reeled about, 
 Senseless, or caring nothing then 
 
 For us who stood without. 
 
 " VVe did not dare to enter there ; 
 
 And what would be the use. 
 For we would hâve to hear and bear 
 
 The drinking and abuse. 
 We were afraid to leave the sieighs. 
 
 Or take them and go home, 
 For well we knew their wrath 'twould raise 
 
 Against us when they'd corne. 
 
 " Ail we could do was wait again, 
 And O dear friends do try 
 
 And save us from those drunken men 
 Or we must surely die ; . 
 
 Our chiidren are at home, alone, 
 JVhjchji yes us greater p ajn. ' 
 
 '} 
 
 la leave 
 
 "ïnd they may perish whiist we're gone 
 From watching long in vain. 
 
 ■^lA)Vv;tAH^^:vVv^tA|V-v :, ■ 
 
 ', ■:K'è:.'!h''At$ > *■ ^Jiï-h^^^'^'-'^ 
 
 
/ . 
 
 P4 
 
 \ii 
 
 IRÈL0DS VVrV)NGS 
 
 " O that we ne'er left Ireland, 
 
 Where we at least could firfd 
 A law to cïieck wrong-doers and 
 
 Assistance of somé kind : 
 For slavery is better far 
 
 Than liberty abused, • 
 And poverty superior 
 
 Ta riches wrongly used ! 
 
 " O, friends, that we c^uld hâve the peace 
 
 And love which you enjoy ; 
 O that our people, too, would cease 
 
 From habits which destroy 
 The peace and happiness which we 
 
 Hâve corne so far to find, 
 Hoping to leave our misery 
 
 Forever, far behind.- 
 
 " Yes, friends, you're right, 'tis that foui den 
 
 Which keeps us hère to-rtight ; 
 VVhy did we bring rum with us, when 
 
 We knew our peace 'twould bh'ght ! 
 Ypu tell us that we need not fear ? 
 
 That you will help us through ? 
 Thank God that He has sent you hère ; 
 
 'Tis ail that we can do." 
 
 PART SEVENTH. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE — THE FIRST BATILE. 
 
 1 )own from their sleds the Island people sprang, 
 Moved deeply by this sorrowful appeal 
 
 "From lips al] coTd and pale. The wômen tbok 
 rhe rugs and robes from off their well-filled sleds^ 
 
 
 
AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 And wra'pped them 'round the tearful, shivering 
 Mothers and children, bidding them not weep 
 And cheering them with kind j^nd loving vvords, 
 Assuring them that ail would yet be well. 
 
 An Islander had been despatched, in haste, 
 With ail the smaller children, to relieve 
 The sorrowing and helpless ones at home, 
 VVhich eased the tpothers* deep anxiety. 
 Vet still they wept ; no longer tears of grief. 
 For their loved ones o/ for their own sad lot, ' 
 But tears of joy for their deliverance 
 From fear and pain, and of deep gratitude 
 For the great kindness done them by their friends 
 
 Meanwhile the Islander§ had quickly tied 
 Th^r horses to the fence, determined to 
 Go into Patrick's shanty and compel 
 The drunken wretches to quit drinking rum. 
 And Pat t<? cease his trade and close his bar 
 Firmly and thoughtfully the men approached, 
 And the stern look upon their faces told 
 Qujte plainly that they ail were terribly 
 
 In earnest, and would leave nothing undone 
 To check the progress of tjie dreaded curse 
 And save the weak and aggd from its power 
 
 They reached the door, dnd Soon'they were inside 
 Among the fierce intoxicated men. 
 And the vile smoke, and fumes of alcohol 
 The gang, completely taken by surprise, 
 Stopped short in their accursed revelry. ' 
 And gazed a moment on the Islanders : 
 
 '^^g"i qmckly recog niziog who th e y we r e 
 
 And somewhat sobered by the présence of 
 So large a crowd, immëdiately began 
 
 25 
 
 
^ 
 
 26 irëland's wrongs 
 
 Thus to address them, asking them to drink 
 And hoping thereby their good wijljto gain :- 
 
 '' We're glad to see you gentlemen, step right up to the bar- 
 Come Pat you rogue, be Hvely there and ixiss along the jar : 
 It. is not often that we hâve our friends to join us hère, — 
 Say gentlemen, what will you hâve — we've whiskey, rum and 
 ^ béer. 
 , It's only once a year my boys ihat -Christmas Eve cornes 
 
 'round, 
 And when it does, you bet your life that we are always bound 
 T© make the best of it, and hâve a joUy, good old spree, 
 And not be half dead and alive as some would hâve us be. 
 This is a joUy country, boys— it's just the spot to live, — 
 It beats old Ireland ail blind,— hère we hâve not to give 
 The most of our hard earnir\gs to the landlbrd, for to spend 
 I^n luxuries and fineries, while we are forced to'send 
 Our children to the work-house ; hère we hever hâve to pass 
 A comrade on thé^treet, for watlt of stamps to raise a glass. 
 Or get eight dàys for taking jùst a little dtbp too much,— 
 No, we are far above that now, and never suffer such 
 Unj'ust Outrages, for we're neither under Lord nor Peer, 
 And none dare say, ' Quit selling. Pat,' or ' Mike get out ot 
 
 hère.' -, 
 
 Yes boys, it is a dandy place, and soon we hope to see 
 .\11 of our com rades over hère, — then won't we hâve a spree: 
 We'U turn this shanty upside dowqi^and drain friend, Patrick 
 
 dry ; . 
 
 And not a cop to bother us or glasses on the sly. 
 Our wives can't sue us either, boys, or bind us t« the peace 
 Just for not takiiig tKÉir abuse, or lettihg them increase 
 The bread-bittarthe^groceTy,ibr hère we nm the shop— 
 And grow our own provisions, without fear of wife or cop. 
 
 fi!:: 
 
 \ 
 
r 
 
 t up to the bar 
 ss along the jar : 
 oin us hère, — 
 vhiskey, rum and 
 
 mas Eve cornes 
 
 are always bound 
 od old spree, 
 uld bave us be. 
 pot to live, — 
 e net to give 
 )rd, for to spend 
 1 to send 
 ever bave to pass 
 3 to raise a glass. 
 p too much,— 
 jffer such 
 Drd nor Peer, 
 ' Mike get out ot 
 
 hope to see 
 we bave a spree 
 in friend» Patrick 
 
 sly. 
 
 us t« the peace 
 em increase 
 an the shop — 
 of wife or cop. 
 
 AND OTIIER POE M s. 
 
 ,2?' 
 
 Hut heré's the whiskey, gentlemen -boys pass the glasses 
 down, — 
 
 ] )rink to the health of our good wives and jolly friends from 
 town." 
 
 But by this time the "Jolly friends from town " 
 Had heard andseen enough to be convinced 
 That what the women told them was ail true ; 
 For the realky wjisiworse by far 
 Than anything their minds had e'er conceived. 
 . The time for action had at last arrived, 
 
 And for the men to faltef now would mean ,' 
 
 The near downfall of ail their happiness. j 
 
 They dashed the glasses from the trembling hands 
 Of ail the topers, as they were about 
 To raise them to their lips, at the same time 
 Telhng thenî they had corne to take them home 
 And \wuld not harm them if they quietly 
 Would walk in peace with them to where their wives 
 And children had awaited them so long. 
 But many of the emigrants showed fight 
 And swore to " Lick the blasted Englishmen " 
 If they would not apologize and pay 
 The damage they had donc to Patrick's "Stock." 
 The leader of the gang was Pat himself 
 Who had corne quickly from behind the bar, 
 Purple with oft-repeated treats, and rage 
 At the destruction of his property. i. 
 The sturdy Islanders, however, soon 
 Had ail the emigrants upon the floor 
 XrLspjteof their re»isten€&afldbeldtfareat s. - - 
 
 A.' 
 
 r 
 
 A bldw had not been struck, so suddenly 
 Had they been overpowered, even Pat 
 
 «i 
 

 28 
 
 IRELANDS VVRO^NGS 
 
 ■!!i: 
 
 
 Had ail the bravery " knocked out of hini," 
 And now implored the Islanders to spare 
 His life and also his small " stock in trade." 
 - The scare, as well as the good shaking up 
 Which they reçeived, had been the means, at least, 
 Of sobering them up and bringing them 
 To understat>d that they were not the sole 
 Lords of the island, with a right to treaft 
 Their helpless wives and children cruelly. 
 
 Pat was released on promising to sell 
 No whiskey, but only the groceries 
 And other things which were necessities. 
 
 PART EIGHTH. 
 
 SATAN'S STRONGHOLD — NEW SCENES. 
 
 The honest Islanders but little knew, 
 In their credulity and truthfulness, 
 The small dépendance that was to be placed 
 In men who served the father of ail lies. 
 Little they knew how difficult it is 
 To banish Satan when he has a hold 
 Upon the lives and in the hearts of men. 
 Satan had corne to stay, and had fe'en now 
 Too firm a footing to be easily 
 Banished from where his fair deceitful ways 
 Were far too little known to be opposed. 
 
 The Devil is forever on the wateh 
 And as a masquerader has no peer, 
 Having disguises ever near at hand, 
 And in such numbers and variety 
 
 m: 
 
 That he can enter into any heart 
 And be an ever welcome visiter. 
 
 4 
 
 .V, 
 
¥,m 
 
 m," 
 
 ■e 
 de." 
 
 ns, at least, 
 
 île 
 
 y- 
 
 NES. 
 
 aced 
 
 ow 
 
 rays 
 
 Yea, and so 
 And 
 
 AND OTHER rOEMS. 
 great i.s his subtility n 
 
 29 
 
 # 
 
 untirinç hi.s con.stancy, 
 Thaj::duly he becomes the favoured one, 
 Clainiing the heart and causing every gu'est 
 To be discarc^d ; then, not yct content, 
 He leaves the v^i^im to its misery, 
 Stripped of alktriends and left alone to die. 
 
 Satan's great strortghold is the mihd of man, 
 And when he once ha.s power over this 
 The heart and every sensé is made to act 
 As prompted by the evil master's voice. 
 Now, while the mind is sound, conscience mus/ work 
 And, though the appetites strive hard and long, 
 The mind, the conscience holds them ail in check 
 And thus the body's powers are subdued : 
 But, when the conscience does no longer act 
 And ail the mental powers are made weak, 
 Then ail base passions burst forth uncontrolled ; 
 Nor do they cease until the physical ' • 
 
 Abilities hâve worn out ail their strength. 
 
 Or 'till the spell has left the victipi free. ' ' 
 ^ This Satan has a list of bodyguards 
 
 Known to us by the name of stimulants, 
 
 Which, used in modération give false strength. 
 
 But only physically, while the mind 
 
 Is weakened, and in time becomês l prey 
 
 To every passion and vile apjîitite. 
 The King of this black list is Alcoh'bl 
 
 The great destroyer of men's consciences. 
 
 Conscience is that great power within, which prompts 
 
 Us a lljojlo the ri ghj andiear the-^mng,^ 
 
 'Tis that within us which so earnestly 
 
 Keeps whispering forever in our ears 
 
 ^ 
 
 #1 
 
# 
 
 w 
 
 
 m m.9mmm Ê9mmmm 
 
 r 
 
 30 * IRELAND S WRONfîS 
 
 That which is evil an^ that which is good. 
 Tis l;hat which thunders out the solemn fact, 
 So plainly that the loVè'est savage kn'ows, * 
 That there's a power tnightier than he . 
 Who rules the universe and knows his-deeds. 
 Tis that which t€lls us, and'^we ail must hear 
 Whether we heed or not, that l)îere is One 
 Holy and just, and who z««i/ justice show 
 To every soûl which is responsible. ^ *» 
 Can we, then, wonder that men, when "tieprived 
 Of that which niakes a man, act like t^lfe brute ? 
 Yea, worse than any brute, for there,is^Bione 
 But will protect thi:^t which i|^ claims Xj^ love 
 And shun those things it knows will do it haifm. 
 Or can we wonder that a man, disarmed 
 Of that with which we keep the enemy 
 At bay, should jn that monient be o'ercome 
 And taken captive by th^Vil one? 
 Is it not reasonable that he >«»s/, 
 When robbed of feeïing, act unfeelingly ? 
 Is it surprising, when ail tenderness, 
 Mercy and love haye been rudely cast out, 
 That he should act with fierceness, stuborness 
 And hatred to'ard his family and'friends, 
 And lose self-preservation and respect ? ^ 
 Ah ! no ; we would as soon éxpect to see 
 Nature reversed, and from like causes hâve 
 Unlike results, which is impossible. 
 
 The Islanders, upon releasing Pat, 
 Accompamed ail the remaining men 
 , rl'o where the women were awaitir\g them. 
 tthê emigrâjits seemea by ihlslîSê ^"^ 
 
 / Quite capable of driving their own teams 
 
 V 
 
 v ■■ ■" - ,■■■ ' ■■" f I 
 
 ,ï>:i-gîkix»è,a*ife-fe-:- 
 
AND OTHEK POEMS. 
 
 fN 
 
 31 
 
 4^ 
 
 To their own homes, not very far away • 
 
 But their kind ffiènds, fearing to leave tîiem Vet 
 
 Aû.d at th^ warm entreaties o{ the .wires" 'j 
 
 Who knew their husbands better far than tht^y 
 
 VVent with them to their homes, unyoked .,nd fed 
 
 1 he hordes, now so hungry and fatigued, 
 
 And sa/r them ail safely within their doors. ■ 
 
 But^there sad sights and sounds awaited them 
 More- terrible by far than they had seen 
 Or heard while in or nearihe " Grocery." 
 In the long absence of the emigrants 
 The fires had gone out ; and helpless babes, 
 Ceft m the charge of children far too small 
 To care for them, were lying cold and stiff, 
 In alniost eldthele^s cots and on the floor. 
 Sonje had already perished, others were ^ 
 Fast yielding to the winter's bitter cold ; 
 While more, not quit^so helpless, stood around . > 
 The stove which, long ère this, ceased gîving warunh 
 Some wrapped in clothing taken from the beds, ' ' 
 Ail shivering and sobbing bitterly. 
 In other houses, where the children were 
 Older and abler to provide against 
 The cold and keep the helpless warm, nothing' 
 So fearful, happily, had taken place. 
 
 Such was the siate of things the man had found 
 Who had arrived just half an hour befôre 
 The Islanders and emigrants had corne j 
 And in that time he had been ail around 
 Doing his utmost to relieve'the sad. 
 Ail set to work ;, fires wer e to he 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 And wdod procured to keep them till next day 
 The women laboured long and tearfully, 
 
 ■m 
 
 
 ^ 
 

 , >••- 
 
 ■\ 
 
 ■ï*/.|-;J- '■■ 
 
 ■;^ï3t'^^:,'ï'.r.^> 
 
 32 
 
 IRELANlAs WKONGS 
 
 Restoring the half-perished little ones 
 And cortjforting tKe sorrow of tjie poor, 
 Hèartbroken mothers mourning at t}ie sjght 
 Of theirdead babes and the great suffering ' 
 Of those tHejr dear ones who were still alive. 
 
 Aitér the children had been fuUy wdrmed, 
 The women hurried to prépare a ineal, 
 For ail were hungry fromHhelengthened fast ;' 
 Eut in some cupboards there could not be found 
 Enough of any fbod to serve a nieal. 
 The Islandei-s, hovvever, soon supplied 
 This need by quickfy bringing from their sl^ds 
 Sufficient of their Christnias day supplies 
 To satisfy those who were destitute. 
 
 'Twas' now near midnight, and the Islanders 
 With heavy hearts went to their homes, where ail 
 \ Were wondëring and \^aiting patiently. 
 
 PART NINTH. 
 
 PROGRESS— A TRANSFORMATION. " 
 
 Tenyears had passed away since the first ship 
 Brought to Prince Edward Island's peaceful shores 
 
 ' Tlîfe friéndless band of Irish emigrants. 
 During that period, advehturers, , 
 Bolë fortune sçekers, and large compamies 
 Of farmers/from the densely peopled isles 
 Of Ireland and Britain, came to till 
 The fruitful soil and breathe the bracing air 
 
 • Of this fair land. Great changes everywhere 
 Had taken place, and one who had been gone 
 
 TJurîng that busy peridï wouTd scarc^ 
 Hâve recognized the noisy, bustling plàc^ 
 
 X 
 
 mmm^g. 
 
\; 
 
 ... Y". 
 
 sjght 
 ring " 
 alive. 
 rned, 
 
 d fast ;' 
 be found 
 
 ;ir slçds 
 
 es 
 
 ilànders 
 wherc ail 
 
 )N. 
 
 : first ship 
 ceful shores 
 
 lies 
 îles 
 
 igair 
 where . 
 
 AND OUJER I'qEMS„ ., 
 
 As that which he had left, ten years beforc. 
 
 In quietydeand peaceful ifidustry. ' ' ' 
 
 The city had increasedjo twice its^ize. 
 4^irge blocks had been erected wherç the'trees 
 And fields of. grain had flourished fbrmerly, ^ 
 ^^nd business establishments had grown -' 
 To meet the husbandmdn's increased demands 
 Wharves had been built by enterprising men 
 Where vessds filfed the docks and carried on 
 ' \ lively trade with home and foreign .ports. 
 In short, the cityand surrôundings had 
 
 Grown to the likeness and the character ' ' "^ 
 
 Of other busy, thriving, seaport towns. 
 
 Some public mstitutions had been built, 
 
 Among which vvere a courthouse and a jail, 
 
 Both being ère this time necessities ; 
 
 For now the people could not, as of'old, ' 
 
 Liye safely without justice and stem law, 
 
 Because rum-power, swindlers and thieves 
 
 Had hither corne, thinking to thrive secure 
 Among a class who, for the greater part, 
 Were strangers to their fraud and villain'ies. 
 
 Among the several thriving industries 
 Which had of late sprang up within the town 
 The hquor traffic quickly took the lead ; ' ' , 
 And at its head was Patrick Dunahoe^ ' 
 The Irishman wfco kept the " Grocery " 
 That caysed suclj misery eight years before. 
 
 'Twas but a shbrt time after the event 
 Which happenVon that woeful Christmas fve 
 1 hat a large ^hip arrived from TreL^n d 
 Wrth fïïTTtwo hundred em^grants on boar4, 
 The most of whom were Irish settïers, 
 
 
 .i\\:. 
 
 
 
 
 >',' i 
 
 
 
 , , l. 
 
 y 
 
34 
 
 IRELAND S WRONGS 
 
 !!;i 
 
 il; 
 
 ■ 
 
 Mt 
 
 I 
 
 il ■ ; ,i .1 
 
 h: ^ 
 ilii I 
 
 .-i 
 
 %?*': 
 
 And a supply ol groceries for Pat. 
 
 Up to that time the emigrants kept straighty 
 No doubt remembering the shaking up 
 They had received and fearing it might be 
 Administered more sternly than before, 
 On any violation of their pledge ; 
 But, being reinforced, they speedily / 
 
 Returned to their old habits, for the night 
 On which the vessel brought their friends, they had, 
 As they had prophesied, a " Jolly spree." 
 Nor was this ail, for the new emigrants 
 Started a rum-shop on their own account, 
 Much to ''Friçnd Pat's" dissatisfaction, for 
 It spoiled his custom to no small extent. 
 
 The Islanders had,,now ail they could do 
 To keep the eyil from their settlements , 
 And from the reach of their beloved ones. 
 
 From time to time fresh emigiant^ arrived, 
 Many of whom remained within the town. 
 'Twas then that Patrick left the setjilement 
 And in the city opened up a bar, , 
 On a large scale, from his ill-gottei^ gain. 
 
 Pat's " High-toned " bar was now the rendezvous 
 Of sailors, fishermen, and ail in tow^i 
 Who drank, and by this tirae they Were not few ; 
 For drunkenness had now begun to spread 
 Among the Islanders, especially those\ 
 Of them who started business in town.\ 
 
 Pat gathered money fast and soon wa^ rich, 
 yVt least so thought his chums and customers. 
 
 -Ije was the sole importer, and supplied 
 
 The smaller taverns which, from time to t 
 Appedred in various localities. 
 
 ■%. 
 
traighty 
 be • 
 
 ght 
 
 ds, they had. 
 
 nt, 
 
 , for 
 
 t. 
 
 ddo 
 
 î 
 
 les. 
 
 rrived, 
 
 wn. 
 
 ent 
 
 n. 
 
 î rendezvous 
 
 ; not few ; 
 read 
 
 AND OTIIER POEMS. 
 
 Now if was no uncommbn sight to see 
 A corner brawl or an arrest for drunk. 
 Three staunch policemen had been onthe>r^<? 
 Since the town station had been built, and ftiese 
 VVere the first officers who walked the streets ; 
 And when they did 'twas generally close by 
 - Pat's tavern, where they had the greatest calL 
 As rum-shops spread and population rose, 
 Thefts, drunks, and crimes of every kind increased 
 A newspaper had been established which 
 Recorded ail events of interest, 
 Especially the doings of the Court ; 
 And, day by day, its crowded pages showed 
 Ao increase in ail business and vice. 
 
 PART TENTH. 
 
 IRISH WRONGS AND THEIR REMEDY. 
 
 Scènes which must give-us pain, however true, 
 Are always far from pleasant to relate ; 
 And, though they may not faîl to interest 
 The patient reader, they can never give . 
 That dreàmy pleasure we so much enjoy. 
 Then why repeat the list of evil deeds 
 And suffering of thousands which was caused 
 By the great influence of àlcohol. 
 It would but be-describing many scènes 
 Such as the first which cursed this fruitful land. 
 
 From that sad night until the présent time 
 The cries of wretched thousands hâve been heard 
 
 Callingibr justice aiHl the banisfanrent — — ^ 
 
 Of the destroyer of their happiness ; 
 But rum'3 great influence in poUtics, ( 
 
 35 
 
 \ 
 
wtw 
 
 36 
 
 ^ 
 
 l I 
 
 iu::i 
 
 IRE LAN 
 
 I>4 
 
 WROXGS 
 
 And the indifférence of many who 
 Are not directly burdened by the curse 
 Hâve, thus far, been the means of making ail 
 Attenipts at its extinction sadly fail. « 
 
 At présent in the island's capital, 
 There are rw less than twenty liquor dens, 
 And, strange indeed, a//, with exceptions few,^ 
 Are still kept open and conducted by 
 The much abused sons of Ireland. 
 Nor is this true of our land alone. 
 For in the cities of America 
 This fearful truth is plainly verified :— - 
 Ireland' s greatest curse is AlcohoL 
 
 Can we then wonder that a people so 
 Attached to such a cruel monster should 
 Be held in bondage and, like sparrows bound 
 By the tough creepers among which they play, 
 Call to their free mates, wholly unaware 
 That 'tis the net they entered of themselves 
 Which -Stands between them and their liberty ? 
 No, we cannot, and we do verily 
 Believe that, if that people did but slay 
 This terrible and cruel enemy 
 And drive it from their hearths and homes away, 
 A race more noble and brave hearts more free 
 Would not exist in this wide world to-day. 
 
 / - 
 
 'Tis not the landlord who, alone, *\ 
 
 Makes countless Irish tenants poor ; 
 
 'Tis not injustice from the throne 
 
 That brings destruction to his door 
 
 1 II : , . ,( 
 
 And fills his home with iiisery, 
 
 Marring the peace he might enjoy ; 
 
 ^ 
 
AND OTHEK POEMS. * 
 
 ■ ris mm thaï 5rings him poverty ' 
 And bars him out from every joy. 
 
 Tis not the vast amount he gives 
 
 VVhich blights his life and alvvays breaks 
 
 The bonds of duty while he lives ; 
 
 No, 'tis not that, it's vvhat \v^ takes 
 
 That causes him to be abused 
 
 And exiled from his native land ; 
 
 It is the ru m that he has used 
 
 ■ Which makes him scorned on every hand. 
 
 Tis not when sober and employed 
 
 That he commits those deeds of shame 
 Which hâve so many lives destroyed 
 
 .And cast a stain upon his name ; 
 No, 'tis not then that he is vile, 
 
 And brings a curse on ail his kind ; 
 But it's when rum, which w«j/ défile, 
 
 Has gained possession of his mind. 
 
 Vou ask for proof ? 'Tis quickly found ; 
 
 O, would to God it could not be ; ' 
 Knter his dwelling, gaze around 
 
 On ail the want and misery, 
 Ask his poor broken-hearted wife 
 
 Why she and ail her Chiidren mourn 
 In helpless poverty and strife, 
 
 Cursing the day that they were born 
 
 
 i« 
 
 — iHaterth c filthy t u mstwp-trhEiT 
 
 The labor of the day is jjast; 
 t^e on the vicious, reeling men 
 
 441 
 
 «i» . ul^ia . 
 
5 IRELANDS WKOXGS 
 
 \Vhosc rcason is departing fast ; 
 'riiink what companions there you sce 
 
 For thoii'e \v1to pine for love's caress ; 
 Think what supporters they miist be » , 
 
 Of needy ones and helplessness. 
 
 CiO to the almshouse, ask the young 
 
 VVhy they are orphans, ask the gray- 
 Why, in their âge, they hâve not clung 
 To those they helped in infancy ; 
 ' (lo to the prisons, trace each crime 
 y"^ Back to the source. from whence it came 
 You ask for proof ? God speed the time 
 • When proof there shall not be to name. 
 
 !l^;l 
 
 ■ ; Mlirli 
 
 -A^-' 
 
 < 
 
 \ 
 
 O ye who would exchange for sla^ery 
 Y The freedom given by a loving Hand, — 
 
 Ye who would barter peace and purity, 
 
 And everything your consciences demand 
 For that which fills the earth with blood and strife 
 
 And spreads o'er ail mankind a mantle drear, 
 Beware ! for there shall corne a time when life 
 
 Will be so sC^'eet, and fearful death so near. 
 
 O ye who trifle with the seuls of men . ' 
 
 And deal death and destruction far and wide, 
 s^ who, like savage robbers from their den, 
 
 blinder the weak to swçll your vicious pffcie^ 
 And scatter want and crime o'er ail the land, 
 Heqdless of widow's moa^n or orphan's cry, 
 
 Beware ! i lest mercy should withdraw her hand 
 And justice call you unex{jectedly. 
 
 iiîK 
 
 
ÂND 
 
 ss ; 
 
 y 
 
 t came 
 ne . 
 name. 
 
 and, 
 
 demand 
 d and strife 
 lantle drear, 
 hen life 
 1 so near. 
 
 \r and wide, 
 den, 
 
 cious pfiàe^ 
 e land, 
 han's cry, 
 
 OTHER POEMS. 
 
 39 
 
 O ye who hâve not yet become a prey 
 
 To Alcohpl, but still defy his power,— 
 Ye who hâve yet the means to drive away * 
 
 This monster from our land, as doth the shower 
 HispeJ the deadly poison from the air, 
 
 And thus your chity do to God and man, 
 lîew-are ! lest your neglect may prove your snare 
 
 And show at last that Satan hds outran. 
 
 THE HELPING HAND. 
 
 A TEMPERANCE TALE. 
 
 A laborer returning from his work one night 
 To his children and wife with his weekly pay, 
 
 Chancing tojook, saw a flickering light 
 . Through a brpken windpw across the way ; 
 
 And listening he heard a foui curse and threat, 
 Which drew him across to the other side, 
 
 Thinking that he, perchance, might get 
 A due to the «cause by peeping inside. 
 
 ^'1 was a window covered with paint, to keep 
 Ali passers from seeing into the room. 
 
 The hour was late, ail the neighbors asleep, 
 
 And the village, save hère, was wrapped'in gloom 
 
 Through the.broken pane, by a tallow dip, 
 He saw a man, with a glass in his hafid, 
 
 In front of a bar, just going to sip 
 , The accursed cup ;_he could scarcely sUmd. 
 
 ~BéÏÏmaiIië"Bar stood a burly rough, 
 With a bloated face and a wicked leer, 
 
 / 
 
 '.lÀ.ii'? 
 
 '"^ 
 
 X 
 
^ 
 
 y 
 
 40 
 
 IKELAND S WRONGS 
 
 VVho, in a tone less loud thpn gruff, 
 
 With a thrcat told the man to " Get out pf hère !" 
 And with this. h'e came from his filthy place 
 
 And thTjew the drunkard out in the street 
 With a cruel blow, sljimmtd the door ih his face 
 And withdrewTw-ith a curse, to his base retreat. 
 
 The stranger, who witnesséd this cruel deed, • 
 
 Raised the unfortunate wretch from the ground ; 
 He was nearly senseless, as pale as a sheet, 
 
 And unable, when asked, to-utter a sound 
 Save a painful groan ; down his face thereran 
 
 A purple stream from a ghastly wound, 
 Which the kindly stranger to dress began 
 
 By tying his handkerchief tighdy around. 
 
 From a pump at hahd he secured a supply 
 
 Of pure, cold water which had the effect 
 Of reatoring the drunkard who, with a deep sigh, 
 
 Thanl^ed his friend,' and asked if hç'd kindly direct 
 Him along the walk to the foot of the way 
 
 Where his dwelling was, which he propriised to do, 
 Receiving this answer, " My goojd friend, some day 
 
 This kindness ten-fold will return unto you." 
 
 Ihey had scarcely starfed on their homewa-rd way 
 
 Whèn they met à woman with a babe at her breast 
 She was crying with grief, and turne.d away 
 ' When she saw the stranger ; she was thinly dressed 
 But he kindly assuied her she need not fear ; 
 And then to the other she tearfully said 
 
 ^T)h,"Hen ry , whâï ReepsyDirarlatëoutiiCTer 
 
 When the children are cold, and we hâve no bread 
 
 ft>'- 
 
y 
 
 )ut of hère !'' 
 
 lace 
 
 rect 
 
 i his face 
 
 base retreat. 
 
 ieed, ■ 
 he ground ; 
 eet, 
 ound 
 ■reran 
 
 d," 
 
 in 
 
 und. 
 
 )ply 
 
 fect 
 
 ieep sigh, 
 
 i kindly direct 
 
 vay 
 
 opriised to do, 
 
 d, some day 
 
 to you." 
 
 leward way 
 ; at her breast 
 way 
 
 thinly dressed 
 L fear ; 
 aid : 
 
 jtiierc, — 
 hâve no bread : 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 / 
 
 " You said," she continued, " when you left us to-day, 
 
 That you'd corne straight home, and not go there ; 
 And we hâve been waiting so patiently, 
 
 Believing that God had ansvyered our prayer ; , 
 Oh, Henry, why do you deceive us so ? 
 
 And you used to be so honest and true ; 
 It must surely be thaf'dark place where you go 
 
 That Ws brought us to this and has changed you too. 
 
 " Yes, Mary," he answeréd, " you are always rig^t— 
 'Tis that cursed place,— Oh, why cart't I pass ?— 
 
 Oh, would to God on that fearful night 
 
 I had not drunk the accursed glass ! " 
 
 But he seemed so kind, and I was so cold 
 
 « Afrer fighting the storm without coat or vest— 
 ^> I could not wear them, for he was old, 
 
 And the glass was so kindly and urgently pressed ! 
 
 " And he begged me so hard for to call again, 
 That— what could I do ?— I could not refuse ; 
 
 That night I was with hfm only till ten ; 
 
 . We had a few glasses, and Mike the news.' 
 
 'Tis little I thought it would come to this— 
 He had gone to his home when I called to-night ; 
 
 r can't tell What happened— there was something amis's- 
 Till my goodfriend saved me— he saw the whole sight." 
 
 By this time they reached the drunkard's home ; 
 
 Some litde ones on the threshold stood, 
 Crying and cold. Oh ! the ourse of rum, 
 
 That b%hts the innocent, crushes the good, 
 
 41 
 
 And 
 
 happy chTtdhooîTTudëTylirasts 
 The father's eyes are filled with tears, 
 
 '' \\ 
 
 ■ &J&, 
 «■ 
 
 V^'.*fvA-s 
 
 iÈï^#*!i^"^ ^à^. 
 
mummmmÊm 
 
 42 
 
 ml 
 
 IRF.LANDS WKONGS 
 
 As a look on the suffering group he casts, 
 So pale and thin in their tender years. 
 
 , 1;hey enter the dwelling so cold and bare, 
 
 Anid even the children are silent now ; . ■* 
 
 1"he stranger drops intô a vacant chair 
 
 With a look of pain on his manly brow. 
 He seès about him on evéry hand 
 
 Undoubted proofs- of happier days ; 
 The wife and husband s'ilently stand 
 
 While the friend, with a tear of émotion, says : 
 
 " (iood friend, think no more of the bitter past, 
 
 I see in you'r face the marks of a man ; 
 Take courage,''and now and forever cast - 
 
 The curse far from you : repentance began, 
 And with- sùch expérience at your time of life 
 
 You still bave great blessings and comfort m store ; 
 See around you in health your good family and wife ; 
 
 You bave room to be thankful your life is not o'er. 
 
 " Thank Cod that He bas in His infinité love 
 
 Spared your lifé, strength and love through ail that is past : 
 And ask Him- He'U aid you with strength from above 
 
 To scorn the vile temptei: and ever hold fast : "^ 
 
 Be a man by refusing to be any less, — 
 
 ril stand by to aid you, and hère is my hand ; 
 Such à nature was ne'er made to cur^^ but to bless ; 
 
 You never will fall if determined to stand. 
 
 " I live but a little across the way ; 
 
 l'm a hard-woïking rnan, lîkè yôùrsèlf T]^ 
 Corne you with your children and wife and stay ; 
 
 -T^EviTs 
 . . Le£ 
 
 ^\ 
 
 •u *■ 
 
î 
 
 , says : 
 past, 
 
 an, 
 
 life 
 
 rt in store ; 
 
 1 and wife ; 
 
 is not o'er. 
 
 love 
 
 h ail that is past 
 1 from above 
 f fast : -^ 
 
 hand ; 
 t to bless ; 
 
 id. 
 
 fij-y *^^'^^ OTHKK POEMS, 43 
 
 ^ We'fteve cheer that will beaj^ny filthy bar-rooni. 
 m let f oà a tenement next to WTOe, 
 
 'rhe,|j)oVil and ail his vile bost we'll defy ; 
 And if tfiat foui place will remain any time, 
 
 Then the foiintain of justice has surely ran dry." 
 
 "i(io^d friend," the poor pénitent now rcplied 
 
 When the stranger paused, ''you haVe cheered my heart ; 
 I feel Hke a man again, and beside, 
 
 There's my hand that l'm with you to do my part 
 In destroying the dens of Satan and sin , • 
 
 That in a short year hâve brought me so low ; 
 cOî?^"" UP' wife and children, vve'Il newly begin, 
 
 And to-night to the home of our friend vve will go. 
 
 " This house which you see is my own," he went on ; 
 " l've neither taîces nor rent to pay ; 
 . My good father left it me,— now he is gone, 
 
 And my mother, -how oft for her son she did pray : 
 Nor shall you pay anything either, friend, 
 
 For in it there's roora for us ail and to spare ; 
 We'll help each other and willingly lend 
 A hand to the needy and cheer to despair." 
 ' -( 
 
 Said the other, " your offer Fil gladly embrace, 
 , , And shouldcr to shoulder the battle we'îl fight * 
 The cup we will banish far from this place, 
 
 And stand up forever for God and the right." 
 And thus they hâve fought, and thus they hâve stood, 
 
 A blessing to sorrow and want till this day , 
 
 ./> 
 
 ■"Evirs strong enemy, powers for good, 
 
 •v-5 
 
 Leading many aright who hâve wandered away. 
 
 ^^£.4iÈ^^^tki ':' 
 
 •. -Slu i. - K* 
 
à: 
 
 44 
 
 IRELANd's jWl^ONC.S 
 
 And now, kind reader," what car» tou do 
 
 In the way of lending a helping hand ? ^ . 
 Can you feel that you are to your conscience «rue 
 
 If you calmly look on and silently stand , j 
 While a stream of misery surges past \ j 
 
 Your door, and you take not a truant in ? I 
 For you hâve the means, oh ! dôn't hold the^i fast 
 
 Whçn you might prevent a mountain of sit 
 
 Look around ! is there not a soûl to save | 
 
 Deep-rooted in snares of vice and crime îf 
 Is there none going down to the drunkard'^ graves 
 
 Whom your influence might reclaim in Ume? 
 Is there fcone to whom you can kindly sp^ak ? 
 
 Is there one needs a friendly grasp of the tian(| ? 
 You know your heart says you need not Seek, 
 
 For thousands are scattered over our lind. 
 
 And that (atai /irsf g/ass- oh ! young mân beware, 
 
 Jlîink how many it blasts in their yoi^'th and prime 
 Oh ! shun it, for it is the Devil's best snare : 
 
 It seems but a trifle ; bût surely in tifne 
 It will grow to a giant of evil in size, j . 
 
 And make you its servant, aye worse, its slave. 
 Than oh T while you may, think twice and be wise, 
 
 Rememb'ring success ever blesses tjie brave. 
 
 MY PRAYBR. 
 
 t^ord teach me in my youth 
 To^ea rly look to l ^ee^ 
 
 Thou art the Ipght, the Way, the Truth, 
 through ail eternity. 
 
 ^•n ■)/* 
 
m 
 
 4--^ 
 
 i Crue 
 
 ;tin fast . 
 
 r - 
 
 ; grave W- 
 
 me? 
 
 .k? 
 
 ; han4? 
 
 -k 
 
 d. 
 
 beware, 
 and prime 
 
 > slave, 
 be wise, 
 rave. 
 
 e Truth," 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 Through this dark vale of tenrs 
 Be Thou my hope and stay, . 
 
 Remove the mdny doubts and foars 
 I meet along the way. 
 
 In death's dark, solemn heur 
 
 Be Thou my Saviour nigh, i 
 
 Keep me and lead me by 'l'hy po'wcr 
 Up to Thy thrône on high. 
 
 There 'mid the happy throng 
 
 May I forever rest, 
 Singing the everlasting song 
 
 The anthems of the blest. 
 
 45 
 
 \ 
 
 LINES TO P 
 
 I)e^ one, though many weary miles 
 
 Of friendJess waste and heaving sea 
 Haye intervened since last your smiles 
 
 Made glad the heart that pines for thec 
 Still mem'ry, ever-present boon, 
 
 Wafts back thine image just as fair 
 To ease the smart that, oh ! so soon, 
 
 Hasr left its victim to despair. 
 
 Oh ! coûld we learn to cherish more 
 The love we scorn because so near ; 
 
 Could we but feel the pangs before 
 We cast aside the prize so dear, 
 
 The absent joys for which we yearn j 
 Would shed a warmer. purer light, 
 
 ^ 
 
 T' 
 
 e^ 
 
 A^nd Chili remorsp wôuld never turn 
 Our brightest day todarkest night. 
 
 'Il 
 
 =.i^ 
 
 ;i. 
 
 •nm 
 
Ife'';: 
 
 ï -il: 
 
 46 
 
 " ikeland's WRONCS 
 
 And yet, methinks, 'lis good to learn x 
 
 The lesson of hwmility 
 'Ihit teaches us td never spurn 
 
 The heart that joveth constantly. 
 l'erchance a wiseij Hand than ours, 
 
 VVho knoweth best, in love would send 
 Some purging thorns to make the floWers 
 
 .Bloom ail thè fairer in the end. 
 
 -^ Dear heart, the tendes cords that bind 
 
 Our love and sympathies so fast 
 Must ever fondly bring to rtîind 
 
 The vows that evermore shall Ust ; 
 And Ihough ^he parting giveth pain, 
 
 Thiraeeting amply will repay, 
 When thèse (Jark hours shall break again 
 
 Irito a gladder, brighter day. 
 
 ÈFPOBT. 
 
 •s/ 
 
 We love to linger where the rays 
 Of Peace's sun pnost brightly shine ; 
 
 We fain would lO^er in the ways 
 pf happiness,/ind ne'er repine. 
 
 Who dois noT^pe for brighter days, . 
 Or for a truer' Jriendship pine ? 
 
 And yet how oft we help to make 
 r The clouds that shut the sunlight tnït ; 
 Upon the thorny road we take 
 
 ^^ f-we ^st^the seeds about ^^^^^^ 
 
 How oft we wantonly f9rèake 
 
 TItefrfends iwe least can do without. 
 
 l'< ! 
 
 ,:s> 
 
 s- .m 
 
AND OTILKR l'OEM^. 
 
 47 
 
 • ■ - !■»• 
 
 -/' 
 
 How strange we strive not earne^tly 
 For what we earnestly désire ; 
 
 Strange that we turn about iipd flee 
 The countenance we most admire ; 
 
 And hasten downwards when we see 
 The heights to which we would aspire. 
 
 Vain are the brightest Hopes that »isc 
 
 Unarmed of energy p do ; 
 Unless the friendships/that disguise 
 
 The tender heart and purpose true ; 
 Lost the most worthy/enterprise 
 
 VVithout the will to/bear it through. 
 
 Nothing but weeds ctin live and thrive 
 Uncared for by the willing hand ; 
 
 Emptypust be the/fairest^ive 
 If ndught but idlé drones comnjand 
 
 Paltry the gain unléss we strive ; 
 /ailures and Feârs go hand in hartd. 
 
 \ 
 
 T^ LORD'S PRAYBR. 
 
 Our Fathdr who Jn Heaven art, 
 We hallow Th j great name : 
 .l'hy kingdom co|ne, Thy grâce impart 
 r* To every mortal frame. 
 
 Thy will be donè on eaçth, O Lord, 
 As it-is^done ii«-j^eave t i ^ 
 
 Give us Thy Spfrit ; and Thy Word, 
 
 ** 
 
 O! 
 
 may we 
 
 fjiven. 
 
 V 
 
^# 
 

 fii'i 
 
 ^<i 
 
 Mi 
 
 finit 
 
 48 
 
 ."♦. 
 
 ireland's wrongs 
 
 (iiVe us this day our daily bread 
 
 And ail -our sins forgivé-: 
 Tis through Thy bounty we are fed. 
 
 And by Thy grâce we live. 
 
 ' Teach us to pardon every foe 
 
 As we would pardoned be : 
 I.ead us where Thou wouldst bave us go ; 
 
 From evil set us free. 
 
 For ail the kingdom, Lord^ is Thine, 
 
 In Heaven or 'mong men^^ 
 And power, and glory while doth shine 
 
 Sun,'ùioon, and stars. Ameiv 
 
 FRIBNDS. 
 
 In careless chWdhood's joyous djiy, 
 
 'Twas^pweèt to bave a friend 
 'ï o j^^'in the harmless play, 
 
 4|ira ever gladly lend 
 A^nd to aid in every fray ; 
 •^is joy with ours to blend.. 
 
 '■V' 
 
 In youth, that season when the 
 Is moulded to the form 
 
 It ne'er can change, how good 
 A constant heart and warm 
 
 By which our thoughts may be 
 A port in every storm. 
 
 mu 
 
 té 
 
 nd . 
 find 
 r^fined,- 
 
 In nianhood — when the stom\s 
 Beat down most heavily, 
 
 cflife 
 
 iWi'*^ «»..*«•" 
 
 . -V'V AÀ«'■y»l^S h ,,. ^-i 
 
 
AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 49 
 
 And when, amid unequal strife, 
 
 We far away woùld flee ; 
 When clouds with aspect dark are rife, -, 
 
 Oh ! what a friend can be. 
 
 In âge, when strength and energy 
 
 Are swift on the décline. 
 'Tis sweet to share the company ' 
 
 Of friends, ère we resign, — 
 To feel them at our side, as we 
 
 Descend the steep incline. 
 
 In death, that lonely, solemn hour,-v^ 
 Who does not need that Friend 
 
 Whose arm alone can overpower 
 The darkness of that end ? 
 
 Who does not need that Light and Power 
 To guide «id to défend ? 
 
 y 
 
 And throughout ail the stages hère, 
 From chï'ldhood to the grave, 
 
 He ©f ail friends is the most dear, 
 He best of ail can save 
 
 In ev'ry danger, and ail fear 
 He, best, can help us brave. 
 
 % 
 
 
 LINBS 
 
 ON IHK DEATH OF JACOB DOCKENDORFF, ESQ., AGED 87 YEAKS. 
 
 -We moum when Tft^sè we Tôve^aë^rtT 
 
 And on the kindred clay 
 The tears of sorrow ease the smart 
 
 
 M 
 
 .afc 
 
 i)Ji^'ll^.> 
 
 i^ t.'y 
 
Ml!' - 
 
 ireland's wrongs 
 
 As they are borne away ; 
 And were there only tears to soothe ' 
 
 Oft hard would be our fate, 
 But blest tbe comfort that can smoothe 
 
 The paths through man's estate. 
 
 ,. / 
 
 Tis hard to see the young and fair 
 Torn from the parent's breast, 
 
 Or the support of age's care 
 Called to their last, long rest ; 
 
 "ris then we feel the need of more 
 Than tears to fi 11 the place 
 
 Ofthose we mourn ; nor can the sore 
 
 /^e healed by time or space. 
 
 ^ VVe thank the Giver of our ail 
 
 That he we mourn to-^ay 
 Has left no cares like thèse to fall ' 
 
 On those who «till must stay. 
 He died not as the youthfui die, 
 
 la strengtl^ of mind and frame ; 
 He left no neêdy ones to cry, 
 
 But died,— just as he came., 
 
 No weeping wife or mother stood 
 ^ ' Beside the loved one's hier ; 
 No father or sad brotherhood 
 
 Remains to moufn him hère ; 
 Not that his grave is far away 
 
 From kin and native land ; 
 
 V 
 
 J^<V be^hasr seen them alhto ctay— 
 Returned by death's cold hand. 
 
 n 
 
 
AND OTHER POE M S. 
 
 Far, far beyond the little day 
 ' Assigned to mortal man 
 He lived, and ail through life's hard \vay 
 
 'l'he path he nobly ran ; 
 His life was one that leaves behind 
 
 Fond mem'iies, not distain ; ' 
 "ris an example a]l will find 
 
 Free from remorse and stain. 
 
 ^1 
 
 m 
 
 If kindness and integrity 
 
 Secure eternal bliss, 
 Ami cheerfui liberality 
 I^A State more blest than this ; 
 en happy is the one whose life 
 
 Of toil and pain is o'er, 
 And blessed ail who leave this strife 
 
 With hopes as bright before. 
 
 * OPENINGHYMN. 
 
 in Ml) name, He will give it you.-St. John i6; 23. 
 
 I 
 
 Lord, on Thy own appointed day, ' j 
 
 And in Thine own appointed way I 
 
 We fain would come in humbleness, j 
 
 Still trusting to Thy graciousness. ' ; 
 
 • ! 
 
 Oh ! wilt Thou then incline Thine ear, 
 And make 
 
 u s f ee l Thy |jr^:scn€€ n €at- 7 
 
 
 Warm our cold hearts, and when we pray 
 Oh ! teach us what we pught to say. -^ 
 
=^^ 
 
 ■ », »' 
 
 H < 
 
 ii- 
 
 If :'\ ' 
 
 52 
 
 r 
 
 IRELAND S WRONGS 
 
 Oh ! for the sake of T|ïy dear Son, 
 Our dear Redeemer,-»^Blessed One' - 
 Bless us and teach us faith and love ; 
 Help us to seek those things above. 
 
 Remove our dôubts, and make us see 
 Our great indebtedness to Thee ; 
 Tis through Thy grâce alone vfe live, 
 VVhich only Thou hast power to give. 
 
 Grant us Thine Hply Spirit, Lord ; 
 Help us to understand Thy Word ; 
 Guide us through life in l'hinè own way ; 
 Save us in realms of endless day. 
 
 LI^jlBS ON THE DEATH DP AN INFANT. 
 
 Gone but not dead ; removed from sight 
 
 But happier by far 
 rhan had it lived to face the fight 
 
 VVith many a doubt and scar. 
 
 Gôi 
 
 ne but not lost ; removed to where 
 Ail wanderings are unknown — 
 Where parting pangs, discord and care 
 Shall ne'er call forth a moan. 
 
 Gone, never to return ; but oh,! 
 
 What comfort doth it bring,— - 
 
 Gone where each one can surely go 
 Sweet balm ibr evèry sting," 
 
 ..^■W' V.,.i,.', ■,. ...... ■ ■..!'. ..,..,,,.. ,11., .,;.', ..." 
 
ANb OTHER POEMS. / 
 
 / 
 
 Gone M(here no mother's voice wiirquell 
 
 Each littlc childish wail, 
 For there no fears nor ills cah dwéll 
 
 Ta mar the peaceful vale. • 
 
 Cîone from a loving father's eyes, 
 
 But better far to be 
 With Him wha called it to the skies 
 
 And immortality. 
 
 Gone; but vrhy should we mourn a loss 
 Wherein is so much gain ? . 
 
 'Tis better thus to shun the cross 
 With ail its toil and pain. 
 
 Gone; but why grieve to see it go ». 
 
 Where ail do hope to rest ; , 
 Would we prefer this ^ife of woe 
 
 To Jésus' loving bréJast ? 
 
 ^.Gone without any sad regret "., , ' 
 
 Or melancholy doubt, ^ ' * 
 
 ^ Its little sun has calmly set, " 
 Its feeble flame gone out. 
 
 Gone in its childisK purity,'- 
 
 A lamb withovit a stainr, • 
 
 A blossom plucked from off the tree • 
 H Ere beaten by the rain. • 
 
 Gone but to join a purer throng 
 And share a S avinnr's love 
 
 •3 
 
 "^ 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 'Il 
 
 Then let us thank Him who, ère long, , 
 Shall join us ail above. ' 
 
 S : • ■' ' ' 
 
 
 ,::Ac 
 
■^•■y^^mftisti^m 
 
 ^ 
 
 IRELAND S WRONGS 
 
 MEMOBIES. 
 
 P'ond m^tnories of childhood years, — 
 
 How bèautiful and bright 
 Amid the frowns'of life appears 
 
 Thçir warm, consoling light ; 
 Chasing away the lines of care . ^ 
 And shedding gladness evèrywhûre. ^ > 
 
 The playground just behincî the hill, 
 
 The beech grovè irt the reàr , ' 
 
 Are pictured on my miijd, and >till 
 
 Not anything so dear \ 
 
 Or half soifair, it seems to me, . , 
 
 Exists in any scenery. | < 
 
 Each ant-hill with its busy throng, 
 
 Each nest so snug and fair, 
 And ail the varied, joyful song * 
 
 The mothers warbled there ; 
 Each hill and nest I well can place ; 
 And song ; what songs hâve half the grâce ? 
 
 The play-house, fashioned by my hand 
 
 Assisted by my brother, 
 With mats and curtains sister planned 
 
 Unaided by oiir mother. 
 Mansions with stores of wealth abourid 
 But where can one so rich be found ? 
 
 The brook, a little runaway, 
 Went babbling near by, 
 
 X 
 
 And oft I sighed as, day by day, 
 I thought it would run dry ; 
 
 
 -,•/ 
 
y 
 
 ace? 
 
 -A 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 Yet after ail my wanderings hère 
 No other stream seems half so clear. 
 
 The Sun by day, the stars by night ; 
 
 How oft my wandering gaze 
 VVàs fixed iipon those orbs of light 
 
 Till lost amid the maze. 
 The sarae bright waiîd'rers shine to-day 
 But, to my mind, not half so gay. 
 
 And èvery other scène so dear 
 
 Stands out in bright array, 
 Mirrored in mem'ries glass as cJear 
 
 As if it were to-day, 
 Only more lovely, for |he tear 
 Was sooner made to disappear. 
 
 Fond mem'ries, ever bè our stay '^ 
 
 In solitude's lone hours ; 
 In sôrrbw cheer the mourner's way 
 
 With glad, refreshing showers ; 
 Leading us far from présent fears 
 Back to the joys of childhood years:- 
 
 »■ V 
 
 55 
 
 NEW YBAR !f T SOHOOL. 
 
 /"Jk.happy new year has begun • • 
 
 With tdken^ bright and fàir; 
 The old year through its course has run, 
 And with it many hearts hâve gone 
 Beyond our reach an^ care. 
 
 i ,' 
 
 S^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 New resolutions hâve been passed ; 
 We hope that life will stand 
 
 • il; 
 Itj 
 
 :tl 
 
r^pÇ', '''ift»^»:v''''\*'rw>«'j^cj|." 
 
 i!|: 
 
 K II 
 
 ii-ii: 
 
 'l 
 
 5^ 
 
 IRELANDS WRONGS 
 
 The wear and tear of life, and last 
 Long after ^his new year has passed", 
 To strengthen heart ànd hand. 
 
 Back to his books, with frame and mind 
 
 Recruit|d, has rèturned 
 The merry student, glad to find 
 His hjÈart to industw inclined, 
 
 After a rest well èaraed. 
 
 The old walls ring with mirth again ; 
 
 And greetings warm and kind 
 Ftom friends and teachers cure the i^ain 
 pf parting froni the loved we fain 
 
 Would never leave behind. 
 
 But settled down to work once more 
 
 We quickly cease to fear, 
 Knowing the futui-e has in store 
 Days bri^hter still than those of yore 
 
 If we Çu^ persévère. 
 
 With dut( done and conscience clear 
 
 Our livES will blessings prove, 
 And we can make. each glad new year 
 The better for our being hère, 
 By fellowship and love. 
 
 /•■ 
 
 THE HAND OF GK)D. 
 
 Ye who so long and fondly gaze 
 -Upon the p i cturct passing fair^. 
 
 That timë and patience hâve produced 
 And set in ail its beaûty Jthere, 
 
 *.W^ rti4 ^ii i-3^ 
 
 
 ■ m 
 
',-f,r.' rvi^f^ •,w 
 
 .... ^ 
 
 ind 
 
 't^ 
 
 tain 
 
 •' '-:i 
 
 ir 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. . 
 
 Go study the original, 
 . Each line and feature well compare ; 
 Why doth it cause, your art to fade ? 
 Because the Hand of God is there. 
 
 Ye who in wonder long admire 
 
 Some garden, rich in captive flowers, 
 'Mid pleasing walks and sparkling founts, 
 
 Which shed around their copious showers, 
 Go tread fair N"ature's wilderness, A 
 
 Gaze on her beauteous, free-born car^-^ 
 Why doth het grandeur so excel ? 
 
 Because the Hanli of God is there. ' 
 
 Ye who with admiration solve 
 
 The problems of machinery, 
 And see the viciobs éléments 
 
 Slaves of man's ingenuity, 
 Cio watch the océan in the storm, 
 
 The vast volcano's fearful glare ; 
 Why fills the soûl with speechless awe ? 
 
 Because the Hand of God is there. 
 
 Ye who with pride would meditate 
 On each frail human's poor design, 
 
 And think your caicuLitions true, 
 Your feeble art almost divine, 
 
 Give heed to the vast universe, 
 
 Man's little world with it compare ; ■ 
 
 Why sinks his power to nothingness ? 
 
 ' Because the Hand of God is there. 
 
 57 
 
 That Hand — Oh ! where can 4iortal turn, 
 And look unconscious of its might ? 
 
 
 A 
 
ii.w •.■•*w^: 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 58 
 
 IRELAND S WRONGS 
 
 Will nian allow his puny works 
 To veil its powér from his sight ? 
 
 Yes, still he grovels in the (fust, 
 
 Wrapped in himself. Oh ! hâve a care 
 
 And leafn in time this solemn truth : . 
 TAe Hand of God is everywkere. 
 
 THE LOVB OP CHRIST. 
 
 We love Him because He first loved us.-Àl St. John, iv : 19. 
 
 Did Jésus die for such as I ? \ ^ 
 
 Did He endure the shameful\tree ? 
 
 And did He in the cold tomb lie 
 For guilty sinners such as we ? 
 
 Ah, yes he ail our sorrows bore 
 Because He loved us tenderly ; 
 / A painful death He did ignore, 
 
 To set us sinful mortals free. 
 
 He rose again and went before 
 To fit a glorious Home for thèe ; 
 
 And wondrous things He has in store, 
 For those who serve Him faithfuliy. 
 
 Then let us love, serve and adore 
 
 Our Great High Priest, where'er we be, < 
 
 .\nd spread His name from shore to shore 
 In faith, truth and sincerity. 
 
 Défend His cause, implore His aid 
 In meekness and simplicity. 
 
 If;-- 
 
 n. 
 
 "AncTJc^S that never never fade 
 Are ours throughout eternity. 
 
 ."^i 
 
 
 l'^'ij. iiiè.iij&i • 
 
 «»♦ 
 
s ■•* ■"!> 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 V PtJRPOBB. 
 
 As the current of life bear^ us swiftly alone 
 
 To the sea <3f eternity, t' 
 
 Our fate will be sad if we fail to be strong, 
 
 And our downfall a certainty 
 If we cease to keep watch with a vigilant eye - 
 
 toT the breakers on every hand • 
 We can never dépend on a chance béing nigh 
 
 To carry us safe to hind. 
 
 I^t us not like the bubble, float aimlessly past 
 
 With fortune our only guide, 
 For h-ke it we^l siirely be shattered at ]ast- 
 
 A ^eck on an océan wide ; 
 It will lead ^o misfortune, although for a while 
 
 J^ o obstacle may appear ; 
 But remember that often the sunniest stnile 
 
 Précèdes the bitterest tear. 
 
 'Tis a path o'er which none a free pass can obtain 
 
 vVe must work our way earnestly 
 Or be thrust by the throng from the way in disdain 
 
 loapathway of misery; 
 For when once we're side-tracked 'tis a difficult ri^ing 
 
 1 o reach the main Une again, i 
 And tirae lost is Ia« for ever, 80 sing 
 The wise from ail rafiks ofmen. 
 
 îf we wish to run we» we mu.t first hâve, in mind 
 
 An object worthy and truei- 
 Aaé. 
 
 59 
 
 nc v or w a. au^ fuund laggi^ behind 
 Who had such a purpose in view ; 
 It is easy to follo^f the wish of the heart-- 
 
 , r 
 
 -j 
 
 h 
 
 '■M. 
 
 ^^.irïiâfÂ^iitS' 
 
^é; 
 
 t k 
 
 L- 
 
 !-H 
 
 ^ 
 
 60 
 
 ■j^.'-*^-"*!':^^-' 
 
 IRELANDS VVKONGS 
 
 , ■:¥ 
 
 We oft dp so unconsciously ; 
 Though the needle be forced from the north to deiK\rt 
 It will quickly return when free. 
 
 'ITien let us not drift on the océan of life ' , 
 
 But steer a course wisely and well, \ 
 
 Ever ready to rescuea soûl which the strife 
 
 Has left rudderless where it fell ; 
 Thus, stooping to set à poor wanderer right 
 
 Will hearten us.as we go, 
 And the haven we'U enter ; so endingthe fight 
 
 In the face of the darkest fbe- ' ^ %T 
 
 OUR EVER PRESENT PRIEND. 
 
 y- ' ■ >. 
 
 When wand'ring afar fropi ouf kindre^jï^d friends 
 And vainly we seek for a facd,tha|i|ri^'^j£n4#t * 
 
 What comfort to feel there is One cje^ijàcÀ^ 
 To cheer us and guide us wherevé^/i#^; ' 
 
 Then let us remember our dear Frien^nd'^li 
 , Who ever is ready to corne to our side, 
 
 And let us not slight Him for sire or mpther, 
 
 Or fail in our praises where'er we abide. 
 
 / 
 
 When we think of the dear oijes Mfho in love and truth 
 Hâve labored and watched'o'er the infantile head, 
 
 And guided our footsteps in childhood and yoUth, 
 We sigh for the joys which so quickly hâve fled : 
 
 But remember that He who has wisely bereft us 
 Is able to comfort and amply repay, 
 
 ^nd^in^His grçat Birok tte has gfâcioasly TêïfÏÏT 
 Sweet comforts to cheer us along on our way.-- 
 
 rii;^: 
 
 -V 
 
 \A 
 
 r^J^f 
 
 'i&k"'Ùi: 
 
 -■"i* 
 
 "ai, 
 
■If Çï* 
 
 >rth to deixirt 
 
 rife 
 ght 
 le fight 
 
 ■.''*'■ 
 
 D. 
 
 9' 
 
 iends 
 
 ^ -■ 
 
 h 
 
 
 and truth 
 e head, 
 3ùth, 
 fled: 
 us 
 
 •-^^^«i^^ai*î£.^-i,i-5fi: 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 6l 
 
 How often when sickness and trials slrround 
 
 We sigh for the health which we nier learned to pri/e'; 
 '1 is then that the love we despised wfll abound 
 
 To cheer us and wipe efvery teaf (A our eyc» • 
 Then Jet us, when blessj^ii ^^is go^dness and treasure, 
 
 Kemember His lovejp#^fe|iaIs ligin • 
 And thus we will kind^^^ HisLeasure, / ' 
 
 For the cross we "i"^*^p|Pke croWn we would win. 
 
 How oft when temptationS and sorrows |issarf 
 
 We bow 'neath the weight and are 'qui^kly brought lo^v 
 «ecause we hâve trusted our own strengtïi so frail 
 And looked not to Him who can crusH every foe : 
 * I hen, let us remember, our Helper is rea^y 
 To give us Ihe victory over the strong ; l 
 And when ^^vile Tempter cornes let us bl steady 
 And %;>y«ï;ciefend.us'and crown us 4e\long.' 
 
 ■ • ' ■ ; 
 
 1 hus oft should our voices be raised to His ^hrone 
 , For mercy and aid, as we journey along j 
 And thus we will never be sad or alone, ^m^ 
 For praise to our Helper will <8t our glad^^ . 
 ' Then let us remember on every Occasidn . \ 
 
 To lean on the strong Arm sS-ctched forth to* sustain 
 And spread the glad- tidings to every r^ation ' ' 
 ■ Of Him who rewards, and the I4m.b who wasWin 
 
 y il 
 
 /i . 
 
 PRIBNDSHIP AND TtJJlKBY. 
 Thanksgiving is over, and mbst of the boys 
 
 Ijave ceased^ibiL th€ prestfHt thetHeastinginKr iisîg^ 
 Look cheerful, and ail hâve their lessons begun, 
 
 Refreshet^nd encouraged by Turkey and ftin. ' 
 
 9 J' 
 
 us 
 
 ly.* 
 
 % 
 
'fi: 
 
 Ri:i 
 
 fli 
 
 < 
 
 ireland's WRONbs 
 
 62 
 
 Not so with theni ail, for that happy brigade 
 
 Which rooms o'er tHe Chaiiel is on the parade ; 
 
 From one room to another they eachi pay a visit,. 
 
 Until I get curious and ask them " What Xff it ?" 
 
 *But almost as soon as I utter the question 
 
 I hear, with no little surprime, this suggestion : 
 
 " Lèt's make out a paper and get ail to sign 
 
 For the turkey." And then I hèar "Wdn't that be fine " 
 
 I went to my room when the mystery was solved ; 
 
 l'hought over the matter and firmly resolved 
 
 To give what ai^s'istance I could in the matter, 
 
 Of course knowîrfg well I should help clean the platter. 
 
 But my musings were suddenly brought to an end 
 
 By a knock on my door, it was that of a friend 
 
 With a paper and pencil in hand which he placed 
 
 . Before me, and then he said, " Read it it in haste." 
 I read it as fast as my séant éducation 
 Could grasp its deep meaning, 'twas like an oration 
 From Webster or Cicero, only much better ; 
 It ran something /tke this, if nof letter for letter :— 
 " We members of the W* A., who réside 
 Up over the'Cha}>el, think best to decici^ 
 On having an Aening for frolic and fup. 
 For the pyruose of ending a term well begun ; 
 For the purpose of meeting in friendship together, ^ 
 That we may stick doser in ail sorts of weather. "^ 
 
 '^Likewise for the gênerai amélioration t 
 Of our happiness during the comi|ng vacation, - 
 And so forth and so on ; and likewise to strengthen 
 
 wOur mutual relations, and likewisç to lengthcn 
 And^bring in oporatioR our digestive partes 
 
 
 - . By fSkting on turkey and pudditi|g ^d tarts. 
 " ,\ That is ifJfiose persons who hâve us. in hand 
 
 i 1 
 
 ë 
 
 :t 
 
 m 
 
 tl^r. 
 
 Irfl^. 
 
 iHyl'ff 
 
 ^JsiMàâéà 
 
s- 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 ie; 
 
 l'isit^ 
 it?" 
 
 that be fine." 
 
 )lved ; 
 
 1 
 
 ;r, 
 
 the platter. 
 
 n end 
 
 nd 
 
 •laced 
 
 haste." 
 
 oration 
 
 : ter :— 
 
 fether, ^ 
 :her. "^ 
 
 n, - 
 
 engthen 
 en 
 
 To develop our mental abilities and 
 Look ont for our gênerai welfare should see 
 That it is an excellent thing, and agrée. 
 We also believing (it went on to say) Jt 
 
 That consummate happiness never wilfstay 
 Except when the inner man ceases to long 
 For anything good, from ice-cream to a son- 
 Agrée to contribute of our scant worth 
 A sum for those things which we need to make mirth, 
 Such as turkey and fixings, said sum not exceeding 
 I hree nickels apiece." And thus ended the reading. 
 l'his^ éloquent plea well nigh ppened my heart,- 
 And'I vowed when the time came to do my fiill part. 
 We must strive to do cheerfully ail that we do, 
 If we hope to be better oflf when we get throu'gh. 
 And now my best wishcs I warmly bestow ; 
 Mayjhe turkey digest and the fixings ditto! 
 
 A day has gone by since the paper wen* round, * 
 
 The scène is ail changed, not so much as a sound 
 
 Is heard about turkey or feasting to-day, 
 
 For the scheme has collapsed in the very worst way. 
 
 No longer the boys stand in groups in the hall 
 
 To discuss in low voices the plans which we ail 
 
 Had so earnestiy hoi)ed would be soon carried eut, 
 
 And which we now see we must ail do without. 
 
 It happened like this:— We must hâve school next Mont 
 
 If we would be home for the ipWomng Sunday ; 
 
 And in order that we may our lessons prépare' 
 
 We must study to-night and give up the affixfp, 
 
 I can't but admit we were somewhat surprié 
 
 Muçh more than a tUrkey or frolic up hère 
 
 So we studied full well, knowing Christmas'>rîvs/lear 
 
 d 
 
 )L*i\'XJe:.i^'<.tK 
 
 ■A. 
 
a ' -V^yj- ' -: 
 
 \A 
 
 X 
 
 ! I 
 
 P<^ 
 
 64 
 
 IRELANDS WKONGS 
 
 ST. VALENTINE'3. 
 
 'Valentine's day — " And why keep it so ? " 
 We hear people ask wherever we go, 
 As the season approaches in which we expect 
 At least one rcminder of some sad defect. 
 
 A long time ago— about three hundred years — 
 In our forefathers' time— thfs custom appcars 
 'l'o hâve risen. j 'Twas kept on St. Valentine's day, 
 In hdnor of that worthy saint, so they say. 
 
 In the good olden time, when the day had corne round, 
 Ail the inaidens and youths of the village were found 
 Assembled to knovv whom their mates were to be 
 Until the next Valentine's dây set them free. 
 
 Their method was simple : a hat was passed round 
 To each of the happy groups, in which was found 
 On small slips of pajier, their riames. Then each drew 
 With trembling fingers, and vows tô be true. 
 
 ] 
 
 •t 
 
 < 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 \VWIîi each had a name not his or her 6wn,\ 
 The lass or lad named on the paper was shown 
 To the person thus pledged to be true for a year— 
 'ITie one to be held of ail others most dear. 
 
 ^ And thus you can see that each maiden and youth 
 Had a choicé of two loves which the young men, forsooth. 
 
 "1 
 
 Very gallantly left for the girls to assign^ 
 
 And the one they preferred was their true valentine. 
 
 <.Mn 
 
 ■ ^ Jii X*^ ti.é%^ À^L . 
 
 4* 
 
 ...ilki 
 
 J'Mi. ^,'.L-hù,i .atuiixitti . 
 
 à*m:?-î'*.« ï- * 
 
y«* 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS^ 
 
 How great the abuse of this custom so old 
 And honored, in thèse latter days ; and when 
 Of the pleasure it gave our ancestors, i»e fain 
 Would call St. V. dtfwn to revive it again. 
 
 
 
 6s 
 
 ( 
 
 s — 
 
 rs 
 
 i's day, 
 
 :ome round, 
 2re found 
 to be 
 
 l round 
 
 found 
 
 1 each drew 
 
 yyfn 
 year 
 
 I youth 
 
 men, forsooth, 
 
 THE STREET-CAR HQRSE. 
 
 Hear the sharp and noisy clatter. 
 
 Of thfi sjreet-car horses' feet, 
 As along they swiftiy patter 
 
 Throughjihe busy crowded street ; 
 How they buckle to their work 
 VVhich they never try to shirlç, 
 
 See how cunningly they listen 
 
 For the ringing of,the bell ; 
 And their bright eyes, how they glisten 
 
 When they hear each sounaing knell : 
 See how quick they siilop and start, 
 Never loth to do their part« 
 
 ^t'> 
 
 Mark how well they pull together, 
 Each ooe fairly draws his shfre, 
 
 lioth unmindful of the weather 
 Or the load they hâve to be^r 
 
 Be it stormy, cold or clear, 
 
 Not a murmur do we hear. 
 
 ¥ 
 
 NVhat a lesson they can teach us 
 
 -Qi^otif 4uty-6v«*fy^ himr- 
 
 alentine. 
 
 ^ 7 
 
 And how plainly they beseeeh us 
 Not to use our greater power ; 
 
 Ml 
 
 :.te.; â.,.;- 
 
 sV 
 
 i« 
 
IRELAND S WRONGS < 
 
 l , - ■' » 
 
 Let us*then take pattérq by 
 ■j Our dumb friends, and always^tr)'. 
 
 Ever let us treat them- kjn^ly 
 
 VVhen they serve so faithfuÙjv 
 •Nevér in a passion, blindly .. ' 
 * Stî|j|te.>ar drive them cruelly ; 
 Diligence land faithfulness ■ 
 Merit love and thankfùfness. 
 
 THE PARTINO. 
 
 Wf^^: 
 
 — ^ 
 
 ■■ '' ■ 1 ' . 
 
 " - ;f^'- 
 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 •a 
 
 1 
 
 -> 
 
 
 ( 
 
 * 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 " 
 
 I 
 
 
 ^^' ; 
 
 
 , 'c 
 
 Oh ! I nevêr sball forget the parting hours 
 When I left my ^appy Kibme to cross the sea ; 
 
 As I sat beneath the cool and leafy bowers 
 In the orchard, underneath the old elm tree. 
 
 I shall ne'ieV forget the loved ones gathered 'round me 
 In their sorrow at the thought that \ve must part ; 
 
 Or the pledge by which my kind, dear mother bound me 
 As she fondly pressed me tO her aching heart. , 
 
 She said to me, " My son, when you would wander 
 From out the narrow p^th our Saviour trod, 
 
 Stop short and in deep méditation ponder 
 
 Ere you would take the road that leads from (iod. 
 
 Ask him for strength to conquer the lemjnation ; 
 
 Be honest and straightforward, ju^t and true ; > 
 Stand up for right whatever be your station 
 
 And ne'er forget our parting inteWiew." • , 
 
 With tearïïil eyes Fvowed 1 woufd remember, 
 And then the pain of [jarting seemed to fly ; 
 
 % 
 
 .1 '^'U;!i^-' 
 
 ■:«: 
 

 
 % 
 
 
 V > 
 
 iea ; 
 
 i-'C. 
 
 roiind me 
 st part ; 
 ^r bound me 
 ;art. 
 
 '•■ V 
 
 ivander 
 d, 
 
 )fn tiod. 
 
 ion ; 
 
 ue ; ' ■ * 
 
 . AND OTIiER^OEMS. 
 
 .'Twas-like the chilling blast of cold December - 
 ■t- ". Transformed into the sunlight of July. 
 
 Oh ! how often has her loving counsel cheered-me 
 Amid the sorrovvs and the cares of life, 
 
 And by the help of Him who ne'er forsoôk me 
 H wv. often hâve I conquered in the strife. 
 
 I never shall forget my father'^ blessing 
 • Or the look of sorrow on my brotherS brow 
 Or my darling sister's kind but sad caressing-I 
 Mèthinks I see their loving faetS now. 
 
 Yet,.after ail those years of toil and sadness, 
 
 I think with pleasure as the time draws nigh, 
 When I shall soar away with joy and gladness ' 
 , To meét them in our home beyond the sky. 
 
 67 
 
 LOVE VERSUS STUDY. 
 
 DcJwn by a stream where lilies grôw 
 , And birds'carol their sweetest sông, 
 A pensive la(||^s wont to.go 
 And v^nder ail the evening long. 
 
 A student diligent was^a.. 
 
 Until a few sjjort daf^go ; ' 
 
 Kirst in his class, beloved and free, 
 
 He won fast friends and Jtnéw n'ofoe. 
 
 How great the change, behold him now 
 
 ^ 
 
 #^ 
 
 Dctàiitig a^^rath^ among tîîë~fIowërs. 
 
 •Vk A - ^ -, . . ' 
 
 / -n:. 
 
 With do^^rncast eyes and saddened brow, 
 Eve after eve for weary hours. 
 
 %' 
 
 ?4^tr 
 
 ''j*a^' 
 

 || IRELANd's WRONG»%r^„^ 
 
 ^is ^atheredfri^ils an^the As" 
 
 Siri|v«q«rrily*t^ eVenf^^^^ > 
 
 As if iftfiàeep hfe||^l)ut he Sees' ^* 
 ears 
 
 lears. no'rh^c M|thei^-ys. • _ é;)"^^^- ""' 
 ne he thus to bSe«&e4>'^W^:- # i 
 
 ow came he thus to hmei 
 , From KïS' companiohs%itKe^d^:pl[yv 
 îK^l^iis'jtô wander there, s^o changed, 
 tn mien, am^d youth's brigl^t array ? 
 
 !'"^V*|»Si fickle fôrtunie ceased tOk|uide 
 His steps along fhc paths^l^t lore ? 
 Has some dear friend or sisteiàçiied, 
 The loss of whom he must fçplore ? 
 
 
 Ah î no, a sorrow greater fllr 
 
 Than thèse has made hjni wé|sp and s'ig 
 One that will never cease to mar . 
 
 The brightest lîopes however high. ^ | 
 
 A.sîniplè talie : he shanced one night 
 
 ■To 'tendva, social in the town ; 
 'Twas there the flower received the blight 
 
 Which has thus quickly borne it down. 
 
 A pair of blue eyes, dancing bright 
 
 Beneath a wealth of auburn hair, 
 VVas the small cause of this s^||t plight. 
 
 And ptoved inore than t]pMÉb could bçar. 
 I '. 
 In vain he strOvé tç iiHi»aJ 
 
 V 
 
 faottiv 
 
 1 n€y 
 
 And^adder still he sa^^^pnile 
 , Another v^iti the wisH MMm tcrbwn. 
 
 1 
 
id s'igh ; 
 
 »light 
 own. 
 
 ght, .' 
 could bi^ar. 
 
 V 
 
 / 
 
 ANt) OTHER POEM;^. 
 
 And now his friends and teachers kind { 
 Strive to console his grief, but he 
 
 Klees from' their présence, ând they- find 
 That comforted he will not be. 
 
 His dormitory, once se bright 
 
 With merriment, is silent now ; 
 Hi^ books which once were his delight 
 
 Dispel no glwom from off his brow. ' 
 
 And now dear students warning talce 
 
 By this sad taie ; though sad, yet true ; 
 Kènd to your books, let nothing shalw^ - 
 
 Ypur aim ; ail other thin^ subdue. 
 
 '* . ' ■ 
 
 Por learning is a jealou^eîf 
 
 Who is content with nothing less 
 Than your whole mind and Heart and self ; 
 
 And grudges even orie caress. 
 
 Be^tru^lo her îyid she wili prôve 
 A blessing truly good and great ; 
 
 iiive her your mind„ your strength, your love, ; 
 Af feast until you graduate. 
 
 69. 
 
 
 r^ 
 
 .•-**' 
 
 iliBSCUB. 
 
 4t: 
 
 A TALEsèb TOe'^TURF IN 1890. 
 'Il a' 'iO. " -. k 
 
 " Mother, don't^ci^, for#may be - 
 -"Fiîther#ttsbtîen<ktâ1nedto-w|fe 
 
 %IS 
 
 -<&-■ 
 
 You know he ever faithfuUy 
 Cornes home, àna always rignt ; 
 
 .V 
 
 o^vv: 
 
 ■v.»,\ 
 
 *t*-«fr 
 
 <> 
 
 
 •yfi 
 
 ■À 
 
 "if 
 
;:s^k 
 
 !' I . 
 
 i.lii. . 
 
 m 
 
 U 
 
 -,(li.:.> 
 
 
 4^1 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 J 
 
 / 
 
 irèland's wronq^>' 
 
 VouXây he has thus faèvbeen true. 
 And what he promises hfe'll do." 
 
 Yes child, he alwayé has^een kind. 
 And it is llvrong fôr me tb fear ; 
 But therfe isisometairig On my mind 
 
 Which troubles mé my dear ; 
 nid you not notice that, last night, 
 He seemed as if ail was.not right?" ' 
 
 *'Yes,<mother, Whatyou say is true, 
 He did not tafee me on his knee, 
 
 Or sister, as he fused to do 
 Ere we sat down to tea ; ^ , 
 
 But then perhaps he n^ver thought, 
 
 And blâme him I don't think we ought." 
 
 '/If this was ail I would not care ; * 
 / But tfien I nôticed more than^that, 
 
 He did not smile or come to shwë 
 Out evening laugh and chat ; 
 
 And this hè never failed to do ; 
 ^My child, I noticed more than you. 
 
 "And after you had gon€ to sleep 
 J asked him why he looked so sad, 
 
 'Tis what he answered makes me weep; 
 He said that I was mad ; \ 
 
 'And when I cried he talked so stitange; 
 
 I can't account for such a change. 
 
 ,.,. t . 
 
 "^ Last m^t he was an ^^bur late , 
 
 And now to-night he will be more, 
 For it is very nearly eight ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 i / 
 
 <fo- 
 
 ■# 
 
.:,% 
 
 ht." 
 
 5e; 
 
 i'P 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■#■ 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 He never stayed before ; 
 Chîldren don't cry, I catïriot be.ir 
 Your tears, they fill me with despair." 
 
 The mother by the window stands 
 Watching the road with tearful eyes ; 
 
 The sisterclasps the brother's hands, 
 Tears with tears synipathize : 
 
 The clqck striées eight and soon the light 
 
 Speeding away gives place to night. 
 
 The table spread with loving «are 
 Remains' just as two hours ago, 
 And only otie is wanting there ,, 
 . To change this scène of wojç: 
 Into a sunny paradise, 
 Replète with love and glad surprise. 
 
 And now the anxious niother hears 
 A Sound o{ foot-falls in the lane ; 
 
 Ail quickly brush away the tears 
 And joy dispels their pain ; 
 
 "Tis he^' they gladly cry, and aîlx 
 
 Run forth to nieet him in the hall. 
 1 
 
 No frown or look of pain to-night 
 
 Repels their tender anxious gaze, 
 But' each receives the welcome bright 
 
 Denied two painful days ; 
 The marks pf pain they cannot hide, 
 n lovingly he 'gins to chide. 
 
 ; 
 
 \. 
 
 71 
 
 ' Why weep dear wife, and children too, 
 Because for once I was downcast ? 
 
 t 
 
 Ki<':là,<: 
 
 
 ■m 
 
 ■'\'" 
 
 
 ;;« 
 
l'HT 
 
 
 I 
 
 -'*a; 
 
 
 
 
 ■^, 
 
 !'■' 
 
 
 
 
 VS 
 
 ^' 
 
 .* 
 
 ÎRELAN^S WKONGS 
 
 How could you doubt îoe ever tniq, 
 ' After the happy past ? 
 When l.(,^â6isA^ilttikremain^ a stay 
 
 It cai^^'^ïnthe^^ é^."\ 
 
 '"Twas love for you that made nie kecp 
 The secret locked within my bréhst ; 
 
 AU night I could not think, to sleep, 
 My mind was sore distressed ; 
 
 But novv dear wife the cloud is past, 
 
 I pray that it may be the last." 
 
 " Never aeain will I refuse 
 
 f 
 
 \ 
 
 To share my cares and fears ^•fc.yQ"' 
 Or, by >yithholding, sa abuse 
 
 A heart so warni and true ; 
 Dear ones we're fi;ee from ail disgrâce— 
 The horse I jockîed'lost the raceT 
 
 1f*^ 
 
 '% 
 
 "ÊOST. 
 
 '•^ 
 
 TÎ^, only #4eaflet faded and worn, ^' 
 But it told a tâle. how on one bright day 
 was plucked by a youthful hand arid borne 
 So light f'I^i the par^t stéftî awaV : 
 But its plàce^k^% fiUqd by K^theyf^'as iTright, 
 AM itsioss^W^ÔSs, is only sligHl' 
 
 • LostjiyJPa Aorn-out band of gold, 
 *" A ^^From a hand so soft and warm 
 
 "^ 
 
 In a time long past, ère a love grew cold 
 Andrrushed by the blast of a cruel storm : 
 
 «. 
 
 , 
 
 ^^!Pif 
 
 ; \ 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 f'.. 
 s 
 
 y 
 
 t 
 
 
 ^. 
 
 % 
 
 
 But another soon clainied a place at its si^ë^ 
 
 And t|»e thoughts it awakened hâve long since died. 
 
 *- 
 
 % 
 
 * I: 
 
 '—M' 
 
keep 
 
 iist ; 
 
 V» 
 
 VQll, 
 
 ice- 
 
 it day 
 jd borne 
 
 r * } 
 
 ras briglît, 
 
 m 
 
 :old 
 
 ;1 storm : 
 
 i' 
 « 
 
 %, 
 
 AND OTIIER POEMS. 
 
 Losty only a picture scratched and marred 
 By the all-destroying hand o( titne ; 
 
 Once-'twas looked upon with a warm regard é 
 And its lobs wouW then hâve been fcll a criine 
 
 But its honored place an^ther has fil|ed, 
 
 And the feelings ît.stirredibave long been stilled. 
 
 - ** , . 
 
 Lost, an honest, upight and honored name ' 
 In a moment's time ; but that one dark deed 
 
 Throughout ail time mu.^ remain the same 
 \ A mind to torture, a heart to bleed : 
 
 % love, a token may be replaced, 
 
 But ^ name, no never, when once disgraced. ' 
 
 /o 
 
 % 
 
 % 
 
 " DONT YOU DO IT." 
 
 c£«. 
 
 « 
 
 m-j 
 
 *»!&* 
 
 %:- 
 
 Some choose tc^stray from wisdom's way 
 ^/ In devious pat\s aside, 
 
 To suit the aims ahd pddities 
 *^ Of friends not always tried, 
 And they who try will not deny 
 
 That very oft they rue it ; 
 If you'd be wîse take this advice ; 
 Be firm and don't you do it 
 
 VVe must confess that business 
 
 Brings on a host of cares. 
 And they are sure to bear them best ' 
 
 Who mind their own affairs ; 
 Then hints are cast bôth thick and fast 
 
 As hel ps tQ p nsh us through i ^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 1 
 
 "WT' 
 
 È 
 
 its side, 
 
 ong since died. 
 
 /, 
 
 ^tlâQV'I.' 
 
 They cry, "My man just try our plan," 
 But mind them, don't you do it. 
 
 '■^^^ ' ' ■ 
 
 ■■WKI4.'' 
 
 'ffé. 
 
;ii 
 
 i: : I 
 
 h: 
 
 !ii: ■' 
 
 lii'i 
 
 74 
 
 X 
 
 IRELANDS WRONGS, 
 
 Ferhaps you cling to tippling, 
 
 Meet friends at every turn, 
 Yoa would reform but then you fear 
 
 Your friendship they wilLspurn ; 
 _Vou cannot [)ass the offered glass, 
 
 And you will ne'er subdue it 
 If, when they press, you answer "Yes 
 
 And tipple ; don't you do it. 
 
 l'i i! 
 
 AU own there's tricks in politics, 
 
 And few there be who find 
 The task a very simple one 
 
 l'o please the public mind ; 
 But when you've found the side that's souhd 
 
 Be manly and stick to it, 
 And don't be beat by one defeat 
 
 Or canvass, don't you do it. 
 
 # 
 
 When first some choose to court the muse 
 » They're silenced every time 
 But those who, ten to one, don't know 
 
 A page of prose from rhyme ; 
 Don't mind their cry, "You soar too high," 
 
 Soar higher and keep tb it, 
 Their foolish bray will die away. 
 
 And please them, don't you do it. 
 
 ï 
 
 A 
 
 1 
 
 I )on't be cast down by every frown 
 
 Or turn your aims aside 
 To please the whims and vanities 
 
 '1 
 
 Of ignorance and pride. 
 Trust less to pense than common sensc 
 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 lll'flR^^ 
 
 
 y^tiMAJ.'' 
 
ear 
 
 . V«e " 
 
 Yes 
 
 hat's soUiid 
 
 the muse 
 know 
 too high, " 
 
 ) it. 
 
 *(."'. 
 
 AND OTHER PDEMS. 
 
 And seldom you will rue it ; 
 Don't be the slave of anyknave ; 
 Such friendships cost, don't ^o it. 
 
 75 
 
 
 " TO UVB. 
 
 ^ 
 
 To live : 'tis not to trifle time away, 
 
 As though 'twere so much dross and withou-t end; 
 Ferchance it may seem long, but who would stray 
 
 VVith careless step, or who would dare ï^pend 
 A life upon the chances of a day, 
 
 Or mark some future date at whiçh to mend 
 A character defaced by many a rent„V 
 The wages of life's precious hours migpent. 
 
 1 o live : 'tis not to heave the bitter sigb" 
 And mourn our wasted breath in solitude ; 
 
 'Tis not to fret o'er evils ever nigh, 
 
 Expecting ail to pass and leave but good ; 
 
 For evils come unasked, like Satanés lie, 
 Bearing false hopes the better to intrude ; 
 
 But good, like hidden treasure, must be sought, 
 
 And if'rétained regarded more th?in aught. 
 
 . / ■ . /^ 
 
 .1 ' / 
 
 To live : 'tis not tô view fair nature's facç^ 
 And see no eviden^-af wise design f ^ 
 
 'Tis not to gaze a^pîdpâd fail to tface 
 The master toucH«&^ a Hanjd divine ; 
 
 'Tis not to scorn thé symmetry and grâce 
 
 ^S#t fortl^4ft every freatwe,-^ver7iiTre7 
 Or hold such wonders but the work of chance, 
 Of some wild frea,k or untold circumstance. 
 
 1 sensc 
 
 ki-Us^U/i-!.' 
 
 r\ï^^lÈ^-l^:'':^i» ^ 
 
 -c^, -..kj^r^I* 
 
 -M., 
 
 «^^ 
 
 , \ 
 
V 
 
 
 - r"". '' ,,'. 
 
 .m: 
 
 IKELAND S WRONGS ' 
 
 To live : 'tis not to be enveloped fast 
 
 In self, as moUuscs are within a shell : •'' 
 
 'Tis not to hoajd up wealth a«d never^cast 
 A mite to one oi>-whom mischances feU. * 
 
 ''1 is not to count our fellows' interests last 
 
 And think in love and peace of miiid to dwell. 
 
 Or by ariother's toil enjoy repose, 
 
 F'illing the measure of a brother'^ woes. 
 
 To live : 'tis not to seek our happiness ' v 
 
 VV ithin the limits of a few short yeafs ; 
 
 'l'is not to close our eyes in caieleSsness * 
 And never look beyond this vale of tears. 
 Fis not to steep the mind in slothfuln^ss 
 And frown whërever wisdorn's light appe^rs. 
 
 Or sow the seeds of discôrd wantonly , ' • 
 
 And hope for an eternal harmony.. '?' 
 
 To live : 'tis not to cowardly assume 
 
 Tfie end of ail existence in the grave 
 
 Where nothing^righter than an en^lless gloom 
 
 Awaits alike th'e cravei) and the brave. ■ 
 
 Tis not to smother conscience and pijesufhe 
 
 , By Works an everlasting soûl to save,. 
 
 Or deem God's révélation ail à lie : ,■ ' ' 
 
 To live is naught iut to prépare to die. ' ,*'*'., ;, 
 \ • ... - . . ■< 
 
 rQODjè (ÎOOD." ir 
 
 ^ % 
 
 .Wifat beautiès greet the dwellei'ç hère 
 
 in thTSTJtir friritfcri=îsîë 
 
 When, robed in summer'ç faîjt^t hnie, 
 She wears ner choice^t smjli^l 
 
 
 Jf 
 
 ..« J',iKl-ii«>É£*iiai;i; 
 
.:'''' 
 
 „«. 
 
 /:v 
 
 •. ■<* 
 
 AND OTHER PÔEMS. 
 
 Plenty and peace on ev'ry hand 
 Are in their sweetest mood, 
 , Making th^jiullest.heart to bound . 
 \ And utter " God is good." ' 
 
 Kair fields that stfnd excelled by none, 
 
 In richèst verdure crowned, 
 lib^omnge to thei„breeze that spreads 
 
 DèUcious fragrance 'round ; 
 Whil^ clothed in garbs o( living green, 
 
 Each ordiard, grove and wood 
 VVafts light along a peacefui sigh 
 
 That murmurs " God is good." 
 
 ■ Like messengers of happiness 
 
 With songs of liberty 
 .^.The b'right'Fobed warbler^flit aboiit 
 ^ ■• ■, Each scène of industry ; ^ 
 
 Beâring-aloft*bn joyful wing, 
 ^ To feed their tfny brood, 
 " ■^me dain^y scrap, ajid in their via/' 
 
 .>^J^xclaiming "God is good.'; 
 
 ■ »• 
 The peacefui herds al nbonl^ sou^ht 
 ^ The CQoIing shade'and b«oc)K ; 
 
 , ■ While each contaited husbahdnwn 
 % ^ His Ktorife#ard journey took 
 
 V ., '.> , ^'^o shafe in the well earfled rè});ist,' 
 *-t * V "An<î, for his^livlihood, 
 
 To offef his acknôwledgmént, 
 Ai^d thpnks that God k^^ ^. 
 
 n 
 
 / / 
 
 t 
 
 % 
 
 
 9.1 ~i 
 
 Â.A-..M'.t'.ik\K 
 
 
 ». ■ « 
 
 f Old-^hfoifed homest 
 
 4)f rtenty ehafra 
 

 m 
 
 ■^ 
 
 78 ■ - 
 
 :? 
 
 7..'. 
 
 1111 
 
 '* i 
 
 
 '•V '. 
 
 IRELAND's WROx\(]S^ 
 
 W'hilc music from the barn-jard filb 
 The car with new delight : 
 
 ()%)rings of honest, patiept toit 
 And cheerful hardihood : 
 
 Emblems of peace that testify 
 To ail that God is good. 
 
 V\e look in vain for poverty 
 
 U'here industry abounds ; 
 We hear no wail of misery 
 
 Where happiness resounds ; 
 \Vd cherish liberality 
 
 And Christian brotherhobd, 
 knowing that unto those who livc 
 
 Uprightry (îod is good. 
 
 Others may boast a broader lanr! 
 
 Hut none more rich than ours : 
 Others may sing 0/ brighter clijnes, 
 
 They hâve no fairer flower!^ ; 
 Others may tell of luxury, 
 
 We hâve our daily food ; 
 And none with more sincerity 
 
 Can say "Qur God is good." 
 
 SI 
 
 FAINT HBART," ETC. 
 
 . Dear lady, cpuld I dare to woo, 
 l'd quicklv^ke m'y stand 
 
 ,/Vlong the Hpf lovers true 
 And venM » for your hand ; » 
 
 V,. 
 
 IffûtlïïënTfRir that such a course 
 Would bring me only jmin : 
 
 ^' ' iÊ' ', ^ qlM 
 
 «» 
 
 
 / 
 
 .>* ■* ... ■- •■.•■.. 
 
■'^f |: 
 
 I fi'lls' 
 
 vc 
 
 es, 
 
 f 
 
 A\f> OTHER l'OEMS. 
 
 I.ove u 
 Whe 
 
 nconfesse(j is hard, but worse 
 answered with disdain. 
 
 I fam would "inake a breast of it," 
 
 As vulgar i^eople say, 
 And risk the chance tha^ountérfeit 
 
 He tenderçd me as piTy ; 
 l'M glance and smile I must confess 
 
 Seemed ràther genuine, 
 But love is risky bjasiness 
 
 XVlîose ways Tcan't défi ne. * 
 
 The more I think the deepcr grows 
 
 My sad perplexity, 
 l'he love that drives away repose 
 
 Is not the thing for me.; 
 i'he birds that hover 'roupd my cot, 
 
 l'he bées and flowers, too, f 
 SeeÉi to enjoy â i^righter loti? 
 
 Than I vvhene'er I woo. ^' 
 
 Then I must ever wan afidsigh, ' 
 
 Like Cupid in a snare, " j 
 Until a kinder fate tomes by 
 
 -So free me from my care ^' 
 And give, jjerchance, some h*lbart to cheer 
 
 My poor.declining dAys ; 
 Then faréwell sighs, bégone dult fear, 
 
 ril sing in gladder lays 
 
 ■./*■. 
 
 .-<'''■"•• 
 
 n- 
 
 79 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 4 
 
 >? 
 * é i^^ 
 
 .M 
 
 ■m^ 
 
 i 
 
 nf 
 
 irso 
 
 ^ 
 
 ,fÀ:-«ï>c 
 
 .If.** 
 
 'A':."' M.', 
 
 ■A , 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 W