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FALLEN ROSE LEAVES
GATHERED AND PRESSED
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A Sftifl##fF
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READINGS, RECITATIONS, DIALOGUES
AND SONGS
"S RpijE MjiR^IAlVr/
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^I ask ho) aMiace on your bookshelves alone,
_^ I asf)ire of your life to form part ;
^f you dcAn ine worthy gf nSncant aJL"
►" Oh \\vh me a plarf in your hArt.-^.^.
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f. TORONTO: *
WlLtlAM BRIGGS, WESLEY BUILDINGS.
C, W. CoATES, Montreal, 9ue. S. F. ^uestis, Halifax, J^.S,
9S
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GOD IS LOVE.
As sweet perfume where roses bloom
Pervades the air around^
So loving words and kindly deeds
From holy lives abound.
— Rose Marham.
/
i
•«■• m»mt»m9mmr-
CONTENTS.
^\
PAGE
Wreck of the S. S. "Victoria'^ - - - - - 5
Memorial - • . • - - . ., . . 13
The Floods of London West 14
The Request 18
My Mother 19
The Dying Mother and Her Child .... 21
Cast Down, but Not Forsaken 22
An Inquiry 25
The Travelling Preacher 26
" Consider the Lilies of the Fi^ld, how they Grow " 28
The Practical Joker - 29
The Scrap Book 32
Procrastination — a Fact 33
A Fright ^ " ' 35^
A Dream ^L - • - 40
The Wedding Ring w . . 42
Angels versus Babies 44
The Auction Sale 44
Susie and Tommy at Play 45
On the Death of President James A. Garfield - 46
Look on this Picture, then on That - - • • 47
The Orphan Boy's Dream 48
A Picture of Fraser's Heights, Port Stanley - - 50
A Little Girl's Soliloquy ....... 51
Dedicated in Love to my Dear Friend, Mary Ann D. - 52
RoLLO on Duty 53
An Hero 54
The Bugle's Call 59
The Welcome Home ........ 6q
*'-i'i
■ ■^ i i I j^ iw w i m i ■'
■"■'■■T'
■■T YET RESISTED UNTO BLOOD, STRIVING
Against Sin "
My Darling
•' I SHALL BE Satisfied when I Awake with Thy Like-
ness
The Baby and Dog; or, Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear
Somebody's Bairn -
The Lord Inhabiteth the Praises of Israel
The Jack Tar
A Macedonian Cry
Temperance Refrain
No Surrender
Prohibition . -
Temperance Pledge Song
Sow the Seeds of Temperance
Free Evermore
The Dying Child
The Storm at Sea
For God, and Home and Native Land . . . .
The Voice of Jesus
PAGE
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FALLEN ROSE-LEAVES.
WRECK OF THE S. S. "VICTORIA."
May 24th, 1881.
BY ONE WHO WAS ON BOARD.
Hark ! a sound of woe and wailing
Comes upon the evening air,
While groups around, of friends and neighbors,
Meet the sad eye everywhere.
Why this cry ? Has fever stricken
The whole city as one man ?
Or has the plague, as in times olden,
Oome to London once again ?
Listen ! there's a cry now reaches
Of a woman's upraised voice,
Asking now, " Where is my darling 1 "
Answered — "Locked in death's embrace."
■
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6
FALLFN ROSE LEAVES.
And with agony part deadened,
Falling back in true friends' arms,
WMle questions asked and answers given
Oi/y causes fresh alarms.
On that morning, fair and lovely.
As ever shone forth summer day
Thousands hastened off for pleasure —
'Twas the twenty-fourth of May.
And a people, loyal in feeling.
Set apart their Queen's birthday ;
For in business they were earnest.
They had learned where wisdom lay.
Interspersing work with pleasure,
Giving each their proper places.
Some had sought the railway station.
By train to visit friendly faces.
"I
Others, lured by lovely Nature,
To the fair banks of the Thames,
Boarded on the Royal Victoria,
Bound on gathering flowers and ferns. "^
Arriving safe at destination,
Hither, thither, speed the crowd, —
Happy parents, happy children.
Seemed the day without a cloud.
And the day passed, as such days will,
All too soon — that one at least;
For those eyes, so bright with pleasure,
Soon were dim with the death-mist.
The VVriter, with husband and little daughter.
WRECK OF THE S. S. " VICTORIA."
And now tlie boat, with water laden,
Comes along the wharf, to bear
Its precious burdens of immortals
To their landing — where, oh, where 1
As along the Thames' green waters
Pass the merry, jovial crowd.
The forms now decked in dainty fashion
Hasten on to wear a shroud.
Ward's and "Woodland's landings past —
Oh ! had our captain sober been,
Our eyes from tears would have been kept.
And London saved from such a scene.
Into the water's deepest bend.
He took us ; and the ship swayed so,
A voice cried, " Move to the other side.
Or the boat will over go."
Too late ! they moved, one moment more
The ship now quivered to its core.
Then over went j five hundred souls
Were struggling 'midst the water's folds.
But some leaped into the water
Before the boat went o'er,
Though exhausted by the struggle,
Had safely reached the shore.
And now, with upraised arms and voice.
One so escaped from death.
With horror depicted on her face,
She sees the struggling mass.
" Save them, oh ! save them, do ! " she cries,
And then entreaties cease.
For scarce a head is seen to rise ;
All, all have sunk beneath.
III! Ill Ml
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8
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
A few, but very few, escaped.
And speed along the sliore to take
Into the city the sad news,
And help and axes bring to use.
In the meantime, some noble men.
When the ship broke up in twain.
Regained their footing on her deck.
Though wet and weary, went to work.
And now began the awful sight,
Which dead and dying brought to light j
Each one, when saved, had lost some other-
Father, son, fond friend, or brother.
Mothers, children, sisters, all
For each other loudly call,
And they scan the deck and shore.
For the dress* each loved one wore.
mi"-
And while the hope of life still lasts.
Some worked for warmth, till hope was past ;
And some gently V>ore, with kindly hand,
The dead and dying to the land,
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Where fires burned bright, to dry and cheer
Each dripping form that gathered there ;
And silently the night drew on,
Which added horrors to the scene.
Hushed were the cries, now hope had fled.
Save when one came across his dead ;
Then kindly hands bore them away,
And gently laid them on the dray.
* The Writer for her child.
WRECK OP THE S. 8. " VICTORIA."
Which took them to the homes bereft ;
In some 'twas only father left,
To labor and to bear alone,
When all that made work light was gone.
And other homes there were bereft
Of willing hands and willing feet.
Of little ones that lightened care
By running here and doing there.
And homes bereft of father's love,
And helpful means which made life move
So easily from day to day,
A nd chased the wolf of want away.
And still the ghastly work went on.
All through the night and early morn,
Of bringing the dead from the waters cold
Till two hundred and eighty were found, all told.
And amongst that silent throng stood one,
Sobered with pallid face.
While in his arms there rests a form
Of wondrous childish grace.
Ah ! well we know for many a year.
Will come the harrowing thought,
" Had I been there, as I promised her,''
E'en death had harmed her not.
But thou canst go where she has gone,
Though she may not return ;
They have gone before, and got safe home.
While we still journey on.
And Father, if the fight is hard.
The victory is sure ;
And we may stand at God's right hand,
With loved ones gone before.
9
m
10 FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
And still there is another yet,
That meets our eye on that scene of death,
With a little form on his heaving breast,
A casket of its jewel bereft.
And near him lay the comely form
Of a woman, whose ornaments still adorn ;
And friends, now seeking, try to trace
To whom they belong, when the man's face
A new terror began to show,
" Surely, that trinket I ought to know,
'Tis my wife's," he exclaims ! then " Oh !
My God ! my other children are here too."
And so, alas, on looking around
His other darlings soon were found.
Now wife and children all are gone — *
A. grief which scarcely can be borne.
Oh ! Thou that dwellest up on high.
And seest such. Lord, draw them nigh.
And help thorn, through Thy chastening rod;
To call on Thee, the living God.
And they ladened the boat Princess Louise,
Which slowly steamed beneath the trees.
With its terrible freight of silent dead,
To the Sulphur Spring Gardens, their grassy bed.
And they laid them gently side by side,
The young and the old, the babe and the bride, f
And many still shudder as they think of the sight.
That loomed out from the dark on that terrible night.
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* Wife and four children,
t Five in one family.
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^
WRECK OF THE S. S. " VICTORIA." 11
And on the morrow from far and near,
Oame the coffins to use in the funeral bier,
Till from end to end of the city was none
To be bought for money, for all were gone.
And many were buried on that first day
After the accident, but many more lay
Till the twenty-sixth, for Mayor Campbell said :
" Let the stores be closed while we bury our dead."
And the streets of the city were deserted that day.
Save by those who went where the dead were to lay,
And men bared their heads at each sad procession ;
And I loved London more for such consideration.
"While at many a door as we hurried along,
Crape, tied with black and white, was hung ;
And others were waiting while we were gone,
For the hearse and the cabs to return to them.
So ended the second solemn day :
Our loved ones from our homes had passed away ;
And our hearts still bleeding began to say ;
Why were they taken. Lord, show us why 1
And the answer came from His Holy Word,
The only answer of which I have ii-'^ard,
" If any love Me, let him take up his cross
And follow on after Me," it shall not be his loss.
For none hath forsaken for My name's sake.
Unholy friends, or companions who take
My name in vain, or trades which tell.
Plainly they lead weak souls to hell.
But in this life rewarded shall be.
And life everlasting receiveth with Me ;
I would that thou lovest Me, " how often I would
Have gathered thee to Me as a hen doth her brood."
WM
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V'
12 FALLEN ROSE LEAVES. fj
I've tried thee with plenty, I've tried thee with spare,
Of loves thou hadst many, now thou art bare ;
What more can I do to save you from harm.
You must be hot or cold, I can't have you lukewarm.
" I've piped, and ye danced not" with joy in your heart.
To God who gave richly. Now I've made you to start
Back with horror ; oh ! will you not try
From this time to seek Me 1 "For why will ye die? "
Yes, Lord, we will seek Thee at once, oh, forgive
All that is past, and help us to live,
And work, like the righteous that exalteth a nation,
Nor forget the sad lesson in this visitation.
But from that lesson so sad and dreary,
Comes a perfume sweet and cheery ;
How easily God can raise up friends.
With the trouble that He sends.
From our own and many another city,
Came the helping hand of pity ;
God bless them all an hundred-fold.
For the sympathy of which it told.
It speaks again like Revelation,
"God of one blood hath made each nation,"
Help us to live like brotherhood.
Striving to do each other good.
And hasten the time when to our call,
Lord, Thou shalt come to rule us all,
" When we shall know Thee as Thou art ;
And learn to love Thee as we ought."
MEMORIAL.
18
MEMORIAL.
Lines written by a mother on the loss of a darling child by the
wreck of the steamship Victoria, on the Thames, London, Ontario,
May 24, 1881. Written on the 21st of August, when feeling sad
because it is three months to-day since my darling hastened away
to Sunday-school with the text for the day's lesson : " Behold the
Lamb of God. " This was her last Sabbath on earth, as she was
drowned on the next Tuesday. She was a child wise beyond her
years, and thoughtful for all, especially for me, her mother. It
always grieved her to see me weary and sad, being of a bright,
affectionate disposition herself. She was truly one of those of whom
it is said, "And they shall be all taught of God," for only so can
we account for her sweetness and gentleness. She was eight years
four months and nine days old when she died.
Our Rose, a flower by name,
And sweet as her namesake too,
The fragrance of her life remains,
Though her dear form is hid from view.
Our sunbeam, we often called her.
And now from her home on high.
She will come as a ministering angel
To light us up to the sky.
Tune,—" Come back to Erin."
Sadly I miss you, ray darling, my darling !
But, Lord, thou art worthy my best to receive ;
I would not recall her, O Jesus, Thou knowest,
For oh, I am sure that with Jesus she lives.
She has gone on before me, but I will not murmur.
For Lord, Thou art worthy my best to receive ;
But humbly I'll try while I live to adore Thee
And show by my life how in Christ I believe.
^^ip
14
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Sadly I miss you, my darling, my darling !
When to or from God's house I go or return,
Where so often thy dear feet have hastened with gladness,
To join in the lessons thou lovest to learn.
But now thou dost see Him of whom thou hast heard ;
Thou beholdst " the Lamb of God, day without night,"
While still I am waiting until I shall hear
The summons that calls me to share in the sight.
Sadly I miss you, my darling, my darling !
Though my smile may be cheery and my eye may be
bright,
Still to Jesus I go, when I'm lonely and weary.
For I trust in His ove and I knoW He is right.
Oft hast thou knelt with thy father and brother.
Beside me in prayer, while I gave thee to God ;
But scarcely I knew how my footsteps would weary,
When with them alone I walked the same road.
But farewell, our darling ! though sadly I miss you,
Our time at the furthest will not be so long,
Before father, mother, and brother shall join thee
In glory, and singing the seraphims' song.
■ .«*'»t
THE FLOODS OF LONDON WEST.
July 10th and 11th, 1883.
'Twas Tuesday night, the tenth July,
When a terrible storm o'erspread the sky,
And on the city and village came down.
Hour after hour it hovered around,
And the lightning seemed to enter the ground ;
And the thunder's peal the city shook,
Till the vibration was felt in every nook.
And out on the night to our startled ear,
THE FLOODS OF LONDON WEST.
15
Came the ring of the fire- bell, quick and clear,
And we ran to our doors and windows to see,
Where, in the city, the fire might be.
The heavens were aglow with the fearful blaze.
And down through our streets the storm still raged.
We dared not go out, but could scarce keep in ;
And above the storm's roar was the fire-bell's ring,
And o'er the city the storm came and went,
Till far in the night its fury seemed spent.
And we heard that the fire, though very large,
Was confined in the east, to the Victor's oil yards ;
And we sought our beds, nor thought ere morn.
How many from home and friends would be torn.
Our ignorance was bliss, but early morn made us wise,
We awoke with a start to list to the noise,
Of the sound of many voices, and the rush of hasty feet,
And the ringing of the fire-bell on our hearing seemed to
grate,
And we listen at our windows if in the murmurs we may
catch,
The import of the threatened danger — two houses gone, is
the news we get ;
And we hasten getting ready, to join the multitude
Passing by our door and window, when we hear, " not fire,
'tis flood,"
And the time which never laggeth whatever may betide.
Still hastens on, and the fire-bell ringing — the hour is
nearly five.
And when we reach the jail on Dundas Street, ere we
farther go,
Looking o'er the waste of waters are many faces blanched
with woe,
And we ask, with faltering voices, "Are any lives lost, do
you know 1 "
" 'Tis feared that many may be, the houses are surrounded
so."
Then the men worked with a will, to open up the boat-house
roof.
16
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Anxiety kept others still, for only one boat-house was left,
And a shout arose, as the telling blows left bare the boats
to view,
For it meant life from death to those bereft of all but life
just now.
And bravely the brave men rowed against the current's
fearful tide,
Straining every muscle till they gained the far hill-side, ,
And placed upon their safety heights, their precious living
freight.
Of hundreds, who, without their help, must soon have sunk
in death.
All honor be to noble men, to whom all honor's due.
For every trade hath lent its aid this misery to subdue.
And down the stream like mighty giants, came many a
noble tree,
And houses pitching, tossing, rushing — " Where can the
inmates be ? "
And the furniture and bedding went whirling, drshing by,
Until they came against the bridge where other w jckage lay.
Kensii^gton bridge has long since gone majestic down the
river.
Blackfriars and Victoria stood the strain, although with
many a shiver ;
And slowly passed that weary day, the 11th of July,
Fraught with many an aching heart, and many a weary eye —
Weary with watching and weeping.
For loved ones that could not be found.
For some were quietly sleeping beneath the mud's sick'ning
mound.
And far up on every bank was thrown, furniture, broken
and torn,
And the carcass of many a noble beast to the grassy slopes
was borne.
And the city was stricken again that day.
All trades were hushed, and the people's way
Led them once more to the river,
THE FLOODS OF LONDON WEST.
17
As two years before, with hurried steps and an inward
prayer,
That God would have mercy, and His wrath forbear.
And we hailed with gladness at eventide, (the news)
Though the waters are strong they begin to subside.
Then on the morrow the devastation —
No pen can portray of the flood's visitation —
Houses removed far from their places,
Some broke up and gone, some thrown on their faces.
Houses, fences and barns all thrown up together.
Crushed and collapsed and so left by the river,
And the place where they stood lost forever and ever.
Oh ! our feet grew weary as we walk through each street,
And our hearts were sad with the sights we meet ;
With fences for sidewalks, where no sidewalks were left.
Or we walked through the gardens not finding the street,
Where so lately all was looking so trim and so neat.
Now the potatoes uprooted, exposed to our view.
And the currants half-ripened torn up with them too,
And the fruit and the shade trees lie scattered around ;
While the rose trees, like beacons, still grow in the ground.
We hear of one family, some of whom are lost.
Buried beneath a house which collapsed,
And those who are missing are forty in all ;
Still we are thankful, indeed, the number's so small.
And this time of trouble hath again brought to light.
The unselfish and noble, of every-day life ;
There was a voice of prayer that caught the ear
And nerved the heart to do and dare.
And the noble girl with wisdom fraught.
Who saved her sacred charge from hurt.
And cheered her father with her voice,
" We are all safe ! " whom he thought lost.
And the large-hearted mother who saved her four babes.
And herself and Bible from watery graves.
God grant that His truths may be treasured anew.
And daily read by that mother and children too.
May it be to her and her children beside —
mm
18
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
What it hath been to many — a treasured guide
Through an uncertain life, through the shadow of death,
Then 'twill open the gates of heaven full breadth.
And the noble husband when told by his wife
" To lay hold on the box that was floating around," —
But in moments like these how quick the heart sees
What are treasures beyond all compare.
And the true metal's ring in his answer is seen,
" I would rather save you out of here," —
And away o'er the waters went the saving of years,
Gathered, with hopes of rest, for gray hairs ;
But how cheerful will that wife work on at his side.
Nor feel her lot hard, whate'er may betide.
And the dear boy asking, " Father, what can I do ? "
Being told, "Keep little Johnny close by you,"
Was faithful till death, for the receding tide
Revealed them in death, hands clasped, side by side.
Ah ! the gentle w> ird and the kindly deed.
Rendered to each in the hour of need.
Shall save many a soul from deadly sin,
And bring the light of God's love in.
Ye wives and mothers ne'er yet behind
In all that's good, and true, and kind.
The prayer of faith with deeds combined.
Shall guide the hand that is divine.
But to tell all the kind deeds of neighbor and friend,
Of parents and children, there would be no end ;
But may these afflictions and mercies blessed be,
To our sanctification, dear friend, you and me.
THE REQUEST.
Write a piece in your autograph album, you say ;
Just a word of advice then, take it, I pray,
" Be courteous to all ! "
It can preach a long sermon,
Though the text is so small.
;
Why was he not ready, with the ring in his hand,
THE WEDDING RING. 43
All quiet and steady, instead of thrusting his fingers
First in one vest pocket, then in the other,
Then looked at his bride, then at father and mother,
Then murmured, " Oli, dear, what a bother ! "
While a smile, and a laugh, with a tittering sound,
Could be seen and heard in the church all around.
And handkerchiefs were ueeded, and eyes sought the ground,
While back to his pockets his fingers went ;
But alas ! alas ! no ring could be found,
Though he searched vest, coat, and pants pockets all round.
All pitied the bride, who looked near fainting.
And the minister, now grown tired of waiting.
Turned to the next two couple, who ready stand
With ring tight clasped in each bridegroom's hand.
In the meantime the groomsman came
To speak to the bridegroom about the ring.
And thrust his fingers in his vest pocket to find
The truant ring, still left behind.
Then whispered all in good time, and the minister heard,
And turned to wed them without a word.
It was just upon twelve o'clock at noon.
And no wedding was legal if twelve was gone.
So now, young men, take warning, I piay.
And be prepared for that terrible day.
If I thought you would not, and you wanted me.
You never should have me, I'd let you see.
t
hi
hI
44
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
ANGELS VERSUS BABIES.
Angels' visits, rich and rare,
Oft we 'lave in babies here ;
Surely, Blanche, thou art to me
All an angel form can be.
Thy Dear'y teeth, 'mid lips of ruby dye,
And !nrc;ft, inquiring, hazel eye.
And ',..y + \ i'mbs so fair.
Dancing h;tnt ». and thither, everywhere.
Sweet ai ? or'f»ht, s : "• transient, too.
Oft I fear thou'lt fac' i". ii view,
With thy little form and face,
So full of beauty and of grace.
May thy future, Blanchie, be
What the present is to thee —
Bright, because of innocence,
And thy end be perfect peace.
THE AUCTION SALE.
•* Going, going ! " the auctioneer said ;
I looked ; 'twas a relic of the dead,
A pretty basket ; within 'twas lined
With pink, and with lace all prettily trimmed.
" She was so natty," an old woman said ;
" Ah ! poor thing ! " with a shake of the head.
And I thought of the manly heart left sad.
Which she, in her lifetime, had made so glad,
And the little ones who in the loss must bear
The heaviest burdens everywhere.
!
I
SUSIE AND TOMMY AT PLAY.
45
" Going, going ! " again he said,
A bracket worked with silken thread
And blue and gold beads ; 'twas of dainty make ;
A friend bought it, to keep for the dead one's sake.
Then came tlie chairs and tables, so good and strong —
Who thought, wlien buying, of death and dying ?
To the young and iiappy life seemeth so long !
And the books in their case, and the pictures, I thought,
For their life lesson surely were bought,
And I thought of the wife and mother
As the apple of gold in the picture of silver,
For surely such women, as this has been.
Are those whose worth is " above earthly sheen."
" Going, going ! " was still the cry,
" A carpet for wear, and to please the eye,
And kitchen utensils, useful and good.
For lessening labor, and preserving your food."
" Going, going ! " till all was gone,
From morn till night, 'twas " going and gone,"
And nothing was left but the broken heart
And the empty house, and the empty hearth.
And a green-covered mound, somewhere away.
Waiting for God's Resurrection Day.
I
1
i
SUSIE AND TOMMY AT PLAY.
{Enter Susie and Tommy — shofvmc/ siyns of being tired.)
Tommy — Say, Susie ! I'll tell you, come here and see.
Let's play father and mother, just you and me ;
I'll be father that's had lots of beer.
And I must 'tend to beat you, and holla, and swear.
Just like father does when ho comes home.
But who'll be Susie, and your little Tom !
And you must 'tend to cry, and say, " Oh, father, don't
Beat me, you'll kill me." What ! say you won't ?
46
t'ALLEN ROSE liEAVE.S.
What -are you crying for, I was only in fun,
Needn't cry now, the game ain't hogun.
There, there, wipe your eyes ; don't lot Ma see
You have been crying, and all through me.
Susie (sohbiiKj and crying) — Oh, Tommy, I want you to
promise me
You'll never be a drunkard, like father, we see.
Don't ever drink the first drop, now promise me so.
{Continues crying and sobbing.)
Tommy {wringing his hands) — Oh, Susie, dear Susie, be
quiet, I pray.
What can I do, or what can I say ?
I will promise you anything, all the world over,
I will not drink the first drop, then sure I'll keep sober,
( Wipes her eyes. )
There, now, wipe your eyes, and we'll play hide and seek.
{Puts his arm aroiind her yieck.)
I love you too well to want you to weep,
And I never, no never, again will play drink."
Oh, parents with children, let it never be.
That the scene just portrayed your children shall see.
Will you, to-night, join our ranks, that Susie and Tom
May now say with me, *' I have a temperance home."
{Holds out the temperance pledge.)
ON THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT JAMES A.
GARFIELD.
Sept. IQra, 1881.
Garfield, the stricken one,
Righteous and true.
The much tribulation belongoth to you ;
To you it is given to enter in through
The gates of the city
That's hid from our view.
LOOK ON THIS PICTURE, THEN ON THAT.
47
And now thou hast entered thou art satisfied —
Thou livest for ever, with Him who has died,
Not for His own sins was He crucified.
Surely thou treadost not thy path alone —
Another hast walked there before thou wast born,
To show tliee the way and lead thee safe home.
In youth thou wast humble, so also was He.
Who in the carpenter's son a Saviour could seel
Who thought the bare-footed boy would president be 1
And from youth to manhood, thou struggled to lielp
And teach others good, not pleasing thyself;
And now thou art gone, not lost, V)ut safe home.
When those that were faithful,
To country and people,
Chose thee as pi-esident,
Others were evil,
So thou to day,
In the martyr's grave lay.
LOOK ON THIS PICTURE, THEN ON THAT.
Picture No. 1.
A pretty cottage, and the day's work o'er,
A fruitful garden seen from the open door,
With perfumed blossom and singing bird.
Where only love's persuasive voice is heard.
A mother sewing, and with attentive ear
Listening to father's voice, low and clear,
As he reads from his daily, now his work is done ;
While youthful voices from within mingle with the organ's
tone,
Singing from their heart, " There is no place like home."
i
48
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Picture No. 2.
A gate on one hinge, and a garden bare —
For only weeds can flourish there —
Untilled and unsown, save by broken crocks,
(The result to the neighbors being weedy crops).
Angry words, or a curse, are the sounds you hear
In the cool of the evening float on the air ;
Or, if a man with a staggering gait you see,
'Tis a sign to his children that they must flee.
And shall we who are safe from such woe,
Shut our eyes to results and let things go 1
Must husband, and wife, and children be
Left to die daily in such misery ?
Can nothing be done 1 Will no one try to save
Our neighbors around from a drunkard's grave,
Or may be from a murderer's — for how many so end
From such a beginning with the liquor fiend ?
If there is hope in the Scott Act,
Let us join heart and hand,
Until saloons and taverns are unknown in our land,
And ours shall be the " Well done,"
To the faithful given.
When we shall pass from our labors
To our rest in heaven.
THE ORPHAN BOY'S DREAM.
AN INCIDENT RELATED BT A MINISTER (OF HIMSELF) ON
THE PLATFORM.
One night I cried myself to sleep.
Thinking of my mother.
When sudde\ily the room was filled
With angels like each other ;
Save in the midst of them was one,
My own deav, uitrllng mother.
THE ORPHAN BOY'S DREAM.
49
My little heart leaped up with joy,
And, pushing past all others,
I cried, " I am your little boy,
My own dear, darling mother.
Oh, take rae in your loving arms,
Nor leave me more, dear mother."
And then I saw them spread their wings,
But I only wanted mother ;
They were bright, silvery, shining things,
And all dressed like each other ;
And as they went up to the skies
They sang, and I awoke with surprise.
And I thought, " Yes, I will meet
My own dear, darling mother.
I will ask her God to be my friend,
He knows I have no other ;
He will help me to love Him, too.
Then I will meet my mother."
And I shall sing that glad new song.
Just as I heard my mother ;
Will you not strive a heaven to win
Through Christ, our Elder Brother 1
God help us all to seek His face ;
Then we shall meet my mother.
50
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
A PICTURE OF FRASER'S HEIGHTS, PORT
STANLEY.
On Fraser's Heights are sweet delights
To eye and ear, when skies are clear.
And health's bright glow in the breezes blow,
As visitors' looks and spirits show.
For old and young there is laughing fun
In the sights to be seen and the race to be run ;
And the joyous shouts tell, when the game is won,
In the tug-of-war, when the pulling's done.
Then off they go to the croquet 'awn,
Or down to the beach, o'er the lake to be borne
By the gallant little steamer ; while o'er lake and land
Floats the rich strains of the Seventh Fusileer Band ;
Or off to the swing, with a shout and a bound,
While the younger ones haste to the merry-go-round.
Others, drawn by the strains of the lively string band.
Turn their back on the pleasures of lake and land.
And to the dancing shed they go
To trip the light, fantastic toe.
Or, if for a ramble you're inclined.
Here nature is lavish to suit your mind.
You can have your choice of hill and dale.
Of wooded height or grassy vale ;
Or should you be ambitious for sights higher up.
You can be drawn at your ease to the observatory top.
And if the day is clear, your eye can discover
Uncle Sam's domain, over the border ;
And as extremes meet, we will just mention here,
Your easy way to the beach is down by the car
Which runs up and down the cliff's terrible height
(The ride is a novelty and will give you no fright) ;
And, if you prefer it, your way then can be
Along to the breakwater, which you will see,
And into your cars all ready for home.
A LITTLE GIRLS SOLILOQUY.
*^
My picture is ended, my writing near done,
Yet there is one item comes into my head,
I should f<'el (juite condemned if I left it unsaid —
God has given us much beauty, above and around ;
Let us try not to mar it by action or sound,
But throw into our lives the brightness we see.
Above and around us where'er we may be.
51
A LITTLE GIRL'S SOLILOQUY.
Well, well ! I never did see such a fuss;
And all because Mr. Jones, the millionaire,
Is coming here to tea.
Such cakes ! — all ice ; and strawberries and cream,
And foreign fruits — more than I have ever seen.
But oh, dear ! such a fuss, the house turned upside down.
I went upstairs to find my Mary Jane, but oh !
They sent me down and bid me go
A nd play out on the lawn,
And get some color in my cheeks
Before Mr. Jones shall come.
He, Mr. Jones I mean, is brother to Uncle Benny,
And very rich — that means got lots of money —
Mamma says I must be very good, and not worry ;
I had only asked why Aunt Minnie's dress was so long.
But then she's sweet on Mr. Jones, I know ;
I heard her as good as say so ; and mamma
Said one day, " Out of the fulness of the mouth
The heart speaketh ; " no no, that was not it,
But I know Aunt Minnie's mouth is always
Full of Mr. Jones every day ; but here he comes —
Good-bye.
(Kisses her hand and runs away.)
52
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
V
DEDICATED IN LOVE TO MY DEAR FRIEND,
MARY ANN D.
Dear friend, how I love to meet thee !
My heart is glad whenever I- greet thee ;
For to me thou hast been
Oft a true friend, I ween ;
For with thy counsel thou often dost lead nie.
Yet sometimes I vexed and grieved thee,
Till thou thought thou surely must leave me ;
Still thou hast been ,
Just what thou dost seem,
A true friend and counsellor to me.
How sweet to be glad in each other.
To act the part of a sister or brother,
As we journey along
Midst the world's busy throng,
As we'd be done by, to do to each other.
I thank thee, dear friend, for thy friendship,
For a true friend is a friend in our need ; i
When to Canada we came,
There was none to bear the name
Of friend to us, throughout prairie or township.
And now may Jesus be to thee and thine.
What thou hast been to me and mine,
A friend to lead and cheer
When the way is dark and drear,
As it is to all who dwelleth here sometime.
And when time shall cease to be,
Lord, gather all to Thee,
For whom we weep and pray,
As we journey on our way,
Though checkered that may be, it leadeth us to Thee.
*.»
I
#*
HOLLO ON DUTY.
ROLLO ON DUTY.
53
'Tis a beautiful night, so nursey thought,
And the look-out suggested a walk,
And her little ones safely tucked in bed,
" Will be all right now, no doubt," she said ;
And she bade the under-nurse attend, '* If they cry ;
I shall not be long," she said. " Good bye."
And out in the hall the noble dog laid.
And his long silken ears drank the words nursey said ;
And away in his wise old head he thought,
I will keep watch while nurse is out.
And after a time arose a cry.
Grievous and long, but not loud or high ;
And finding no nurse attended the call,
lie arose to his feet and walked through the hall
Into the nursery up to where the nurse sat.
And, looking into her face, whined, with his nose in her lap,
And turning round again, he made for the door.
Looking to see if the nurse came, while he went before ;
And finding she did not, he went back again.
Laid his nose in her lap and whined the same,
Looking so sad, and went again to the door ;
And the nurse, thinkii-^^ it strange, went out to see
If aught was the matter, or what it could be ;
'And finding she came he wagged his tail with delight,
Leading the way to the room where the child cried with
fright.
And now duty done, he lay down at the door,
And the child soothed to sleep, all was quiet once mo, .
And as we thought of his care and talked it o'er,
We agreed he was worthy the name he bore —
The name of a prince and warrior bold.
Who ruled the Greeks in times of old.
'Tis princely to care and do and dare.
The right thing in life though none may hear.
Let us not be beaten by a dog in our duty,
But by cheerful alacrity add to its beauty.
54
FALLE5r ROSE LEAVES.
AN HERO.
The down train to Belleville had passed with a shriek on :
The Accommodation was ringin away from the station,
As Jake Handy, all washed and combed up like a dandy,
Stood looking skyward, which was squally.
'* Guess I'll get back 'fore the rain,
If not, let down the flap and shut yourself in,"
These words were said to Dave, his son :
Who to " tend the Ingine " as he called it, to the station had
come.
While father went home to his supper.
" Mind and look out for the lire," said Jake,
As a farewell peep into the furnace he took.
"You'll have to chuck in some more ferd pooty soon
If .Jim isn't back, but don't depend on him ;"
Jim was the stoker, wlio had also gone home,
So when Jake from his engine swung down,
Dave was left in charge all alone.
He was only fifteen, but was not afraid,
For every valve, wheel, and piston on the "Meteor" he
knew ; ,
So Jake had often jocosely said, i
" The yonker knows more 'bout it'n I do."
Besides tnis was the regular thing every night,
Jake Handy was the engineer of the night freight.
Which got to Blankton about eight, and had over two hours
to wait.
But if Jake had known what was in that dark sky.
You may be sure he would never have budged a step ;
But he went whistling off into the darkness nor thought of
danger nigli ;
Thinking only of the kindly welcome and comfortable supper
he would get.
" The sky was kinder squally," as Jake had said,
And soon fitful gusts of wind tossed dry leaves and gravel
at Dave ;
At first he paid no attention, \v\t let down the flap,
an
AN HERO.
55
And story book in hand on the cushion, curled himself up.
But not for long, for the wind grew so strong,
It tore off the flap which Dave had pinned down.
It howled up and down the track, clanking couplings and
chains.
Like a chorus of demons let loose o'er the plains :
Still Dave was used to fierce windstorms,
But now it shook the train that he stood on ;
He began to get nervous with fear.
It ripped off clapboards and shingles from the tool-house
near by,
" I guess 1 11 give her some supper," he said, with a sigh ;
Throwing a few shovels of coal in the furnace door,
For fanned by the wind the fire burnt with a roar.
But as he bent down, a startling crash.
And the next moment, a huge object by Dave swept past,
Which he recognized as the roof of the switch-house ;
Although alarmed, he did not lose his presence of mind.
And by " 'tending the 'Meteor' " tried employment to find,
Now he knew a tornado was upon them.
He watched the steam-gauge and kept up the tire.
Which the wind fanned into combustion and uproar.
Now a lull in the storm, but hark ! what is that ?
It sounds like thunder, from far along the track ;
It comes nearer, the ominous sound is clearer,
Dave strains his eyes to see, but all is a dead black.
No gleam of a head-light shows along that curvcle's track,
But here it comes, the rails rattling, the very earth shaking;
'Tis here ! 'Tis gone ! and the appalled Dave knows it is a
runaway train.
Dave had often heard his father tell,
Of the frightful damage they caused, and he knew well,
This was eight big, heavy cars loaded with coal.
Started by the wind from Dotville Junction ;
On a twenty-four mile down-grade, and never a brake on.
For a moment Dave was paraly/ed, then he knew
The lightning express within an hour was due.
56
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Blankton had no telegraph, all hope was void,
The express coming like the wind, with the runaway must
collide ;
No earthly power could save them, sleeping, and uncon-
scious as they lay ;
And there rose in that moment an Hero in that poor,
shabby engineer boy.
Like a flash he jumped out of the cab to yell
Frantically to the switchman, but without avail ;
So he darted to the coupling, unshackled the " Meteor,"
and sprang aboard.
And ran out on the main track without another word.
Time was flying ; the runaway was several miles ahead ;
Driven by the wind, and its own impetus, on a down-grade ;
But Dave felt he had the double advantage of wind and
steam ;
Yet the poor, small hands trembled as they piled on the
coal ;
But pulling wide the throttle valve, he shouted, " Go it.
old
gal ! "
And it would almost seem as if the " old gal " answered
back,
As snorting, pufling and shrieking, she rushed along tho
track,
And Dave with his eyes fixed on the steam-gauge.
For he knew how much steam it was safe to carry
(His father had frequently let him run the "Meteor" on
long stretches of straight country.
He understood perfectly all the workings of the machinery).
/
So Dave rushed his iron steed to its utmost speed, to over-
taker the fugitive ;
And all the time thoughts of the lightning express
Filled him with terror — he knew not the time —
The minutes seemed hours along that dark line.
As the *' Meteor" flew on towards the runaway train.
And now, just as he begun to despair.
And his hand was outstretched to reverse the " Meteor,"
AN HERO.
57
i
He rounded a curve, and at a short distance he saw,
The long, dark hulk of the runaway cars.
And now came a new problem : at this rate of speed
They would meet with a crash; he must slow up, indeed,
So nicely, that when they met there should be the least
possible shock —
For he had no one to couple, and for nonce
He must be engineer and switchman both, in this night's
dance.
And so he flew on, revolving the situation, and adjusting
his engine with care ;
And soon he was on the heels of the runaway cars.
Then with many misgivings and great care he slipped down
From the engine to the cow-catcher, crawling along ;
Then seizing the long coupler in one hand and watching.
While he held on with the other, to await the collision.
The suspense was agonizing and perilous the situation ;
With one gust of wind from his post he might be shaken.
He was for a minute almost panic-stricken ;
Again and again he was on the point of darting back.
For the air was full of uncanny sounds ;
The sweep of another tornado — the roar of the lightning
express just ahead ;
For he is not an hero who sees no fear ; but he is one who
sees and will not be afraid.
Meanwhile the " Meteor*^' drew nearer and more near.
And at length came up with the rear car.
With scarcely a perceptible shock, and Dave bent over and
let the pin drop ;
Then clambering back into the engine-house again,
With trembling eagerness he seized the throttle and re-
versed the engine ;
But to his amazement the train did not stop,
Instead of the "Meteor" stopping the runaway, the run-
away dragged the " Meteor " in its headlong flight ;
Dave was horror-struck, he put on more st^am, —
And now a tussle for the mastery began.
58
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Finally, after what seemed au eternity, they came to a
stand ;
And then a backward pull began ; but once started they
soon acquired momentum ;
Still, most of the way they had an up-grade and the wind
against them,
And again Dave began to cast anxious looks behind him.
The lightning express must be due by this time ;
But he hoped for the best, to keep up his nerve.
And whistled like mad round every curve.
At length he entered the long level line
Of the ten-mile run to Blankton.
Hardly had he congratulated himself, when he heard, far
behind.
The scream of the lightning express, borne on the wind ;
He could not hasten ; he was going at full speed,
Thirty-five miles an hour was all he could do.
While the lightning was coming at sixty, he knew.
The next whistle sounded so near, and a third
Of the untravelled ten miles remained when he heard,
And the gleam of the head-light, he could see it afar,
As it shot round the wooded curve in the rear.
And now came a moment of conflicting emotion ;
The nearness of safety, and certain destruction,
Almost overcame him ; yet in this crisis.
Out of very despair, poor Dave gathered calmness.
To the oncoming train he turns his back ;
Looks straight ahead, keeps his eyes on the track,
Thus on he flies, he is almost there ;
He passes the station with a shriek and a roar.
Over the switch, down on the side track, his father is there,
And Jim throws the switch back just in time.
As the lightning goes whizzing and shrieking along the line.
Jake jumps aboard not a moment too soon,
And his gallant son faints away dead in his arms.
— Compiled from a reading by Edwin Lassetter,
Bynnei , in the ^^Age of Strathroy."
November 15th, 1888.
H
h
THE BUGLES CALL.
THE BUGLE'S CALL.
London, Midnight, March 31st, 1885.
Hark ! the bugle's notes are calling ;
Calling loved ones to the fight,
Long and loud its echoes sounding,
In the stillness of the night.
And our hearts give throbs of anguish,
As the measured steps pass by
Of our neighbors' sons and husbands.
Outlined against the midnight sky.
Asks our heart, like one of old,
" Alas ! how shall we do 1 "
Comes this answer, is it prophetic,
" This evil shall not touch you."
There are more round about us ^
For our cause, than all against.
Then bless your loved ones.
Bid them God speed ;
The alien's army shall disperse.
Note ye not the tone prophetic.
Of their shopmates' thoughtful care ;
We will pay their wages to you,
Until they lill their places here.
Then dry our tears and wing our prayers
With faith's pinions to the sky.
Of no Fenian raid are we afraid,
Or of Indian rebels nigh.
Our trust is in the mighty God,
To whom all victories belong,
He sees our tears and hears our prayers,
And He will raise our song.
59
60
FALLEN ROSE BEAVES.
THE WELCOME HOMK.
To THE London Voluntekks, July 24tii, 1885.
We waited, watching, looking, longing,
For our heroes of the West,
While the clash of heaven's artillery
Far outdid our mighty best ;
And we said that even home.
Awaited the proverbial weather
That had attended weary marches
On the prairie's bitter winter.
But the rain, though smartly falling,
Did not prevent the cheer that rose.
As the iron steed approaching.
Brought the journey to a close.
There uprose a shout so glorious
That thrilled the blood in every vein,
When we saw the bronzed features
Of our absent ones again.
Again, again the shout arose, i
As the steaming, puffing engine
Slowly passed along the platform.
Giving time for recognition. ^
Wives and husbands, sons and mothers,
Fr'end with friend, sisters, brothers.
Again clasp hands, while smiles of welcome
Were seen on faces old and young.
But soon the word " Fall in," was given ;
With scarcely room to move or turn.
They did their best in ranks uneven, ■
To obey, the call to honors earned.
And now beneath triumphal arches.
With measured tread they march along
In showers from the upper windows
Come bouquets, for breast and gun.
zs
THE WELCOME HOME.
61
And three volleys, fired in honoi"
Of our lions of the day,
Flash upon our startled ears,
As they pass along the way,
To the sound of martial music.
And the cheering of the crowd.
Stirring many hearts with gladness,
For spared lives of which w«' are proud.
So read the mottoes, " We are proud of you ! "
'Twas the echo of the city's heart, we knew,
And " Hurrah for the seventh, welcome home ! "
With " Well done, seventh, never shirk duty ! "
While festoons around add their grace and beauty,
And colors as various as the rainbow's hue,
Mingled with hangings of red, white and blue ;
Wliile every window was filled with li\ing graces,
Of beautiful forms and radiant faces.
And strung up aloft, and dancing on air,
Was the effigy of Piapot and Big Bear ;
While Kiel swings from a prominent place.
On Dundas Street, meeting our boys face to face.
'Twas but his effigy, more's the pity,
For we wished 'twas himself gracing our city.
Though our boys are safe, yet through Riel lay
Many a mother's son in his grave to-day.
Had ;ve believed for very sure,
The words prophetic, which were given.
When with tears of bitter woe,
We asked, alas, what shall we do 1
Ah ! how oft we fail to gather
All the brightness that is ours,
As we toil life's uphill journey.
Fearing thorns we leave the flowers.
May He who spared our sons from slaughter.
And from the wily Indian's knife,
Give us grace by prayer to offer
Back to Him each rescued life.
62
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
A TRIBUTE TO MY HUSBAND.
My liusband — dearest earthly treasure,
Whose love for me is beyond all measure ;
Through all the ills and joys of life,
Thou art the stay and comfort of thy wife.
Near twenty years we have travelled together,
Oft meeting adverse winds of fortune and weather ;
Death hath entered home again and again,
Taking our little ones, leaving us pain.
Still the way is not all rough, as we journey along,
It is brightened by faith, and we join in the song :
"The Lord giveth and taketh, blessed bo His name ; "
They have gone on before, but we shall meet them again.
The way is not strange, for our feet have long trod
In the pathway of prayer, and trust in our God ;
May He help us, for Christ's sake, to be faithful and true.
And we will not fear the journey, for the goal is in view.
"I HAVE BEEN YOUNG, AND NOW AM OLD,
YET HAVE I NOT SEEN THE RIGHT-
EO US FORSAKEN."
Psalm xxxvii. 25.
How often, when I've been at work within the city's din,
My thoughts have been of Jesus, my talk has been with
Him?
When young and strong and healthy, I gave to Him my
heart,
And He avowed in His dear Word naught in life or death
should part
Me from His love, if I would faithful prove.
HELPS BY THE WAY.
68
And 80 it hath ever been, thi'ou<,'h a long and changeful
life,
When passing through the tiery trial, or struggling against
the strife ;
Sometimes a darkening cloud of tears would hide Him from
my view,
When my soul hath cried, Lord, take all beside,
But keep me close to you.
And now I am old and gray, and little and unknown ;
Little among all the world calls great, my name has never
shone,
And oft the best deeds of my life have marred and faulty
been ;
Like wounds, though healed unto the sight, are ridged with
scar and seam :
" But when afraid, I trust in Him."
HELPS BY TPIE WAY.
" I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered mo from all
my fears." — Psalm xxxiv. 4.
Helps by the way, how precious they are,
A leaflet here and a few verses there.
How often I thank a Father's care.
Helps by the way, how sweet they come.
Speaking of rest in my Father's home.
After the weary of life is gone.
Helps by ihe way, " line upon line.
Here a little, there a little," oftentime.
Just when I am weary, comes a line.
" Fed with the food convenient, too,"
Just what I was longing to know.
Betwixt right and wrong the way to go.
" Loved with an everlasting love,
I know."
G4
FALLEN UOSE LEAVES.
THE CHOIR.
*Tis after tiiton, mid F/omtice liritjlit is dresne.d to receive a
few frii'.iith ; senln are placed around. Florence is doing
fancy ivork.
Florence Bright (a tap, and the door opens, and in
comes May Clover) — Oh, IVlay, you darling ! you are as
sweet as your name for coming so early ! sit clown, and we
will have a talk. What did you think of our singing on
Sunday *? I wish you would join the choir; you can sing
so nice, too. 1 thought you always liked to do your best
for God's house 1 I have heard you say as much, {Another
tap — etiter Fanny Wrangle and Jessie Wise ; Florence goes
toward them) — Oh, you're dear girls to come ! I hope we
shall have a nice evening together.
Fanny Wrangle — T think it is Just too bad for anything
to be nice. What did you think of our squeaking tenor on
Sunday ; did you ever hear anything like it in your life.
Jessie Wise — I did not notice the tenor, for I thought
the sweetness of the soprano had so much of heaven in it,
that every one that could sing with the voice and with the
understanding also, ought to give themselves to the choir ;
for I am sure we can reach many a heart by singing the
Gospel. {Enter several young girls, and go up to May
Clover, then all turn to her, and Jessie Wise continues) —
May, dear, we want you to join our choir ; we think you
ought to do so, because you could help us so much.
May — I have been very much struck with what one or
two have said to-night about doing it for the Lord ; but I
am afraid Fanny might not always think my singing sweet.
{Then Fanny comes forward and takes May's hand in hers.)
Fanny — Oh, May, forgive me, and do not let any thought-
less words that I have said come between you and duty. I
too will try to remember that all I do is to be done to the
praise of Him of whom we sing, and, like Jessie Wise, will
look for the sweetness instead of the discord.
May — Very well, dear Fanny, then I will be one with
you in the choir, girls. {All boiv and retire.)
A VISION.
C5
<
HE CALLETH FOR THEE.
'* Behold I stand at the door and knock ; if any man hear My
voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup witn
liim, and he with Me."
Say ! hast thou never heard ITis voice,
Sister of sorrow and care 1
Jiidding thine heart look unto Him,
Believe in His love, and not fear?
Yet how hard 'twas to feel love dealt the blow.
That crushed all thy hopes in their bud.
And snatched from thy arms the darling whoso charms
Filled thy life and thy home with its love.
Yet He loves who hath said in His word from above,
" I chasten, rebuke, all those that I love ;
But to him that o'ercometh, it shall be given
To sit on My throne in the kingdom of heaven ;
For I 'Alpha and Omega ' must be ;
Let cheerful obedience be given to Me."
A VISION.
I stood in a cleft of a rock.
All around me the light of God's love,
Beneath was the valley of earth,
Shrouded in mists from above ;
At the edge of the rock, where I stood,
Was a chasm, which no man could pass.
Yet upward, in thoughtless mood,
Str ggled the myriads of earth.
I looked, horror-struck, for my gaze
Was arrested by the maniac force
"^ hich was used by the myriads which surged
wards the chasm, where all would be lost ;
iiud I thought, is there nothing to save them '?
66
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Must they perish, as upward they come 1
Then i saw that a bridge crossed the chasm,
And a narrow path led to the same.
And I watched all the paople in anguish,
For I knew the path they never could see ;
They were bent on such folly and madness.
As they danced and shouted with glee.
Yet each step that they took was one nearer
The terrible chasm, I saw ;
And so few, oh ! so few found the pathway,
Though 'twas clear, for a glory shone o'er.
Then I watched them who had entered the pathway,
And I saw that they struggled and bent.
As if it was hard work climbing upward.
And I grieved as I saw some relent.
But they that endured to the end
Found glory begun here below,
I saw them smile as I crossed o'er the bridge.
And their face was with glory aglow.
They saw not, but I saw there was One
Who stood at the end of the bridge,
And His dear face shone forth as the sun, , |
And His glory encircled the place ;
It lit up the hard, barren rock,
It entered the nook where I stood.
It clothed with glory the weary that passed,
And the pathway along which they trod.
But oh ! there were myriads still coming
Up to the chasm's brink.
And then, with a look of horror,
Went over ; no time then to think.
And I turned, for a sickening feeling came,
And I watched the ♦''ghteous once more
AS they crossed over the bridge in the glory,
And I wondered so many were poor.
There was tottering age, and childhood, too.
And parents, and youth, kept coming in view ;
FAREWELL TO MY HUSBAND.
67
But their tears became pearls
As they passed through the light,
And their prayers were praise
As they came out of the night.
And I wondered to see, as still they come.
An unbroken tile, yet one by one.
For each had to cross that bridge alone,
Save for the glorious presence, there was no room.
And their eyes never moved tc the right or left,
But looked looked straight forch to the pearly gate,
And I wondered to see them enter in.
With those tattered clothes, so worn and thin.
And I tried to look in through the pearly gate.
But I could not see for the glorious light ;
And I looked to Him that stood at the bridge,
Then on along the chasm's ridge,
And I was willing to work and wait
Till I cross the bridge to the pearly gate,
Then I looked once more my Lord to see,
And a wondrous smile He turned on me ;
And I knew henceforth that work or pain,
And life or death shall all be gain,
It is not I that live, but He.
FAREWELL TO MY HUSBAND.
Who Died a Few Weeks afteu I Wrote "The Vision," March
28th, 1888, Aged 54 Years.
Farewell, my precious husband,
Thy voice will ne'er again
Cheer me in my writings,
As so often thou hast done.
And when I wrote *' The Vision,"
The last that thou didst see.
Why did not a warning voice
Whisper then to me "}
h ''
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68
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
But when I think of all thy rapture,
As thou read it o'er and o'er,
It seems like an inspiration given
To draw thee from earth's shore.
Twenty-five years we walked together
Life's checkered road ;
Now I walk in widowhood,
And thou dost rest with God.
But farewell, my preciou'. nusband,
I, too, am coming on ;
Thy own words said our parting
" Would not be for long."
Thou didst promise thou wouldst watch.
And for my coming wait.
With our three little ones,
"Near the pearly gate."
— Written April 16th, 1800.
THE CHILD'S PRAYER ANSWERED.
" And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer ;
and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." — Isaiah Ixv. 24.
'Twas a cold blustering night, and the sleet and the rain
Beat in angry gusts on the small window-pane,
As two parents ready dressed, to defy wind and weather.
Are about to attend weekly prayer-meeting together.
When a small, pleading voice asked, " Ma, let me go, too."
And is answered, " My darling, you cannot, you know ;
Your boots are so bad, your feet would be wet,
!3efore you scarcely had taken a step ;
i^
THE CHILD S PRAYER ANSWERED.
69
"Then you would be sick, perhaps you would die,
And what would mother do without her dear boy 1
But when mother is gone kneel down at your bed,
And ask God for some boots ; in the Bible 'tis said,
"'Everyone that asketh receiveth;' then next week you
can go
With father and mother to prayer-meeting, you know."
Then after prayer-meeting the parents returned.
And seated beside the stove for a chat and a warm ;
When again the small voice greeted their ear,
" Ma, I asked God for some boots, when will they be here?"
" Perhaps before Sunday," the mother replied ;
Yet knew not from whence the need could be supplied ;
"God has told us to trust Him, and so we will, dear ;
So go to sleep, darling, without any fear."
And soon heavy breathing told the burden was gone ;
Then the parents knelt down with the same request.
And asked that the faith of their child might be blest.
r;
And on the morrow came a letter unexpected to hand.
From England, the much-loved and far-away land.
And in it a post-office order,
Saying, "Buy the little boy something or other."
And the shout that rang out.
When he heard what it was about.
Nearly deafened his father and mother ;
" And I can go to Sunday-school now,
And prayer-meeting too.
" Was not God good to send them so soon ?
I asked Him at night, and He sent them next noon."
And many times since he has gone to his God,
From childhood to manhood in the prayer-loving road.
70
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
MOLLY AND THE FURNITURE.
"Then shall the King say unto them on His right hand, Come,
ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world.
" For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat," etc. — Matt. xv.
33, 34.
Och ! woe is me, woe is me, but there, I'll tell you all
about it. My man was sick, ye see, fell down in the ole of
the ship, amongst the pigs, they say. But why they should
take pigs to sea, I never could make out, for the blessed life
of me. That is, pig iron, I mane, for that is what they sed.
He hurt hisself (my husband, I mane) by fallin' down into
the ole of the vessel, and the pig iron run in him. Though
how that could be I never could make out, for it seems to
me if anybody fell down amongst pigs, they would run away,
and not run in.
However, to cut a short story long, I will go on. My
husband was sick, do ye see, an' whin we arrived at Canada
West, Ameriky, it was very little walking he could do, an'
as we was in a city, sez he, " Take some rooms, Molly," sez
he, " for a time anyway." An' at first I sez " No," for he had
promised me a whole house to live in if I would come to
Ameriky, do ye see.
Och ! my heart ached for him, for he was sore sick to
walk about then, so I consented, and we went up some stairs
to see some rooms ; there was one at the back of the 'ouse,
and one at the front, and one in the middle that belonged
to both, for it had no windys or doors. Then we went
tw ) rooms, but my husband
than I want to be yet,"
upstairs again, an' there was
sed, sez he, "This is highei
sez he.
So we came down again and talked about the other
rooms, an' och ! when I looked round, niver a bit of a fire-
place was there, an' sez I, '* How kin I cuke the bit of
fude*?" For ye see, I hod bin brat up gintle like, an'
wanted th'ngs dacent for use. An' the man sed, sez he.
MOLLY AND THE FURNITURE.
71
" You vil haf to get von stofe ; " he was Germond, yer see.
" A stove," sez I. " A stofe," sez he. " An' where shall I
put itl" sez I. "Where you like," sez he. "An' do
people carry their fireplaces about wid them ? " sez I.
" They take their stofes wid them," sez he. An' I looked
round for the chimley, an' there was only a hole in the
wall. "An' where will the smoke goV soz I. "In that
hole," sez he. An' I thought for a while, for I lied niver
seen a stove in England, an' sez I, "Will the smoke have
to run all round the room till it finds that hole to git out V
sez I, movin' my hand round. " You will haf some pipe,"
sez he, " for de smoke to go in." But och ! my blessed life,
I had only seen the pipes the men smoker, but I sed iiuthin'
at all, at all. An' I sez, sez I, " How much will the stove
bel" "A new von," sez he, "vil cost you tree poun'
An' I sez to Nolan (that's my hus})and), " That is all the
money we av got," sez I. An' the Germond sed, sez he,
" You vil git de furnitir with the stofe." So sez I to Nolan,
sez I, "That is not so bad at all, at all." For I thot wat
a nice lot of chairs an' a tah.e an' a bedstead I waud get,
for I was brought up ginteel, ye know, so sez T, " We will
go an' see the stove," sez I, an' I turned round and gave the
Germond a nice bow, an' he looked quite relieved like by my
kindnis to him. An' thin we went an' found a stove shop,
an' the man showed us stoves of all sorts and sizes, thin I
sed, sez I, "We want one for three pouns,"sez I, thin he
was very gracious to us, and showed us some very nice
ones, an' explained to us how we was to act by them, or
how they wculd act by us, I forget which ; so thin, sez I,
" I would like! to see the furnitir, sez I. An' directly thin
he wint to a bench, and began turning over a lot of tin
things, an' came back with his hands full, and put them on
the stove. There was a big tin pot that he called a l»iler ;
though whoiver would want to be biled in that, he or her,
I could not for the blessed life of me see ; and thin there
was iron pots that could nc/t stand up yet ; but thin my
husband had sed to me many times, Molly, you must re-
member this is a young country, so I sed niver a word.
72
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
I thought he was throwin' these bits of things into the
bargain, do ye see, so of course I was too polite to make
any remark. So thin he sed, sez he, " If you would rather
have a tay-pot insted of a coffee-pot, I will change it." But
I sed that wad do, for I remembered beggars can't be
choosers. So I siz, " Now we will see the furnitir." An'
he looked at me as if he did not feel quite safe so near me,
or as we say in England of a mad dog, it is not safe for
him to be at la^-'^e, at all, at all. So, thinking he did not
understand, I bed, " The furnitir, sir ; the man tould us
we would get the furnitir where we got the stove." An'
he sed, sez he, pintin' to the tins, " That is all the furniture
belongin' to the stofe." An' as I looked at the biler, I
thought I was cooked this toime for shure, an' I should
niver be so raw any more, at all, at all. Howiver, I sed,
" We will think it over," sez I, an' with that we lift the
store ; an' my heart was broke altogither. But there was
help at hand ; an' a kind-hearted gintleman seein' me sit on
a doorstep weepin', asked my Nolan what was amiss ; an'
Nolan sed we could not get a house, at all, all, an' he
was sick, an' we was strangers in the country, and he took
us to a small house that was for rintin', with three of the
loveliest poplar trees in front, as if they had grown in Eng-
land itsilf. Poplar, indade, it made the whole country of
Canada West poplar wid me. An' anither gintleman lint
us a stove, so we was just grand like, whin we made a
table of one of our boxes, and sat upon two ithers. An*
at night we slept as sound as if we had the grandest of bed-
steads. Indade, we had a house of four rooms to oursilves ;
was we not grand already ?
An' soon a good man heard of us, an' he came to see us
with his horse an' gig. An' wasn't we havin' a bit of a
meal ; we had tay, an' borlong sausage, they call it, but,
indade, it was round sausage whin I bought it, an' some
bread. An' didn't I fale it was a honor to stand while
I left me box for the gintleman to sit on, but he would not
stay, V)ut said he would come anither day. An' so, indade,
he did, and brought us two iligant chairs, he sed, sez he.
i
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AT MOTHERS BEDROOM DOOR.
73
" They were only standin' in my shop," sez he, " of very
little use." An' at the s.aine toinie he brought us fifty
pounds of flour an' a large pase of cheese ; indade, I had
never seen so much flour an' cheese outside of a shop since
I worked at the squire's ; God bless 'ini, for he helped us
afore we came to this country. An' we forgat the next
toime we had a male that we had no shugar or milk in our
tay, or butter on our bread, while we had the beautiful
large pase of cheese afore us, an' we sit in our illigant
chairs. An' that nite we asked God to bless that good man
an' his fannly, an' our home in our adopted country, an'
to bless the country that had begun to adopt us.
AT MOTHER'S BEDHOOM DOOR.
It was Christmas morning, and the sound
Of bare feet, rushing o'er the intervening ground
From nursery to mother's bedroom door.
Had caught my ear.
I peeped, and this is what I saw ;
Six bright young faces, full of earnestness,
To tell, and show, what Santa Glaus
Had left for them in his journey through
The city, while 'twas locked in qui* t rest.
Dreaming may be, of the briglitness upon its morrow's
breast.
'Twas a sweet home-picture that I saw
That Christmas morning, gathered around the motlier's
bedroom door.
And yet I've often heard people say,
'Twas nonsense to jpend money in that way.
Toys, indeed, what good did they do '?
'Twas money wasted, soon broke up, and lost to vievr.
But to me they spoke of love.
On that bright Christmas morn.
'•'JW
74
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
With love were the gifts appointeye might fall.
Prohibition ! let the sound
Encircle us around.
And save lis all ;
Let pole to pole again
Reverberate the strain,
We wrestle till we gain
For law Prohibition.
Can we afford to lose
Our sense of brotherhood,
His keeper we 1
Then around our ensign white
Ye gather who love right ;
Vote not for party, but
For Prohibition.
] )
TEMl>EHANf!K PLEDOE SONG.
01
Now lot tlio people's voice
Be lioaifl, that tliis, our flioice,
Must law become.
Lord, we look up to Thee,
Help us to save Canada,
From alcohol's curs(^ set free ;
God help us on.
TEMPERANCE PLEDGE SONG.
Tune—" Cheer, Boys, Cheer."
Come, children, come,
And Join our Temperance Army ;
We are pled<^ed to conquer
Alcohol our t'oe ;
Christ, our Lord, is with us,
For our cause is righteous,
We sliall be victorious over Canada's foe.
We liave often heard
Of mothers and their children
Turned adrift in darkness,
Into cold and snow ;
Shall we grow to love
The serpent that will bite us,
And shall cause our loved ones
Such sorrow and such woe 1
Chohus (Repeat first verse) — Come, children, come.
So no more of lager,
Whiskey, beer and cider.
Wine, rum, gin and brandy,
As a beverage we forego.
We would rather join
The Rechabites for ever,
Than forfeit every blessing,
And yield to Canada's foe.
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92
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
Satan oft will tempt
Us to break our pledge,
Call alcohol God's gift,
But then we know he lies.
God says, " Wine is a mocker,
And strong drink is raging,
And whosoever is deceived by it is not wise."
Chorus — (Repeat first verse.)
SOW THE SEEDS OF TEMPERANCE.
Tune — "Scatter seeds of kindness."
Is there here a father, mother,
In the light of what has been.
That would dare to say of alcohol,
It is God's good gift to men.
But would they not much rather
Sign the pledge and keep the vow 1
God helping us, oui darlings
The taste shall never know.
Chorus — Then sow the seeds of temperance,
Then sow the seeds of temperance,
Then sow the seeds of temperance,
For the reaping by-and-by.
For the sake of lives made hopeless,
By its scorching, withering blight.
For the sake of deaths made endless,
Sweep the demon from our sight ;
It means loss of life on railways.
And loss upon the sea ;
It means murder in the bar room,
And loss of soul eternally.
Cho. — Then sow the seeds of temperance, etc.
FREE EVERMORE.
08
If we knew the baby fingers,
That clasp around us now,
Would be pinioned by the hangman,
With a black cap on its brow, —
Oh ! how our love-clasp tightens
As we think upon the scene ;
But we know that these things have been
Caused by the liquor fiend.
Clio. — Then sow the seeds of temperance, etc.
FREE EVERMORE.
TcNE— " To the work, to the work."
To the front, to the front, for the temperance cause.
We will work with our might till we get righteous laws.
For our nation's hope in our future must be,
Till the helpless and hopeless from alcohol is free.
Chouus — Marching on, marching on, marching on, march-
ing on.
Till the tide along our shore.
Shall echo back " Free evermore."
To the front, to the front, in the future to come.
Our nation shall hear when we reach twenty-one.
For out from our ranks future rulers shall be.
That shall drive from our land this curse of the free.
Cho. — Marching on, etc.
To the front, to the front, we shall reap as we sow.
And a youth-time of thrift and temperance shall show
That riches and honor our portion shall be,
When we sweep alcohol from this land of the free.
Clio. — Marching on, etc.
m
94
THE DYING CHILD.
THE DYfNG CHILD.
Dr. Schaftier, of New York, finding a little girl in a cellar, dying
of consumption, told li< r he would have her reujoved to a better
home, when she exclaimed, " Save Pa, instead," and fearing violence
to the gentleman should her fatlier return and find him there, she
added, "1 will soon be with Jesus, with Jesus. Indeed, I am
happy, sir ; now go away."
Down in a cellar a dying child lay,
As Dr. Schaffier, God's servant, passed by,
Bending down o'er her, said, " Poor little one ;
You shall be moved to a far better home."
Chorus — " Save Pa, instead ; save Pa, instead,
I shall see Jesus, see Jesus," she said,
" Papa is cross, he is drinking to-day ;
Indeed, I am happy, sir ; now, go away."
In that back street in New York where she lay,
Angels are waiting to bear her away,
" Now I shall soon be with Jesus," she said,
•' Indeed, I am happy, save Papa, instead."
Cho. — Save Pa, instead, etc.
Lying on rags, in the corner away,
Breathing out life in consumption, she lay.
Clasping with hands so white and so thin
A testament, reading in the light so dim.
Cho. — Save Pa, instead, etc.
Closing her eyes, the book fell from her hand.
As halting footsteps began to descend,
" I'm coming, Mary, Pa's coming," he said ;
And his eye fell on the book by the dead.
Cho.— Save Pa, instead, etc.
THE STOKM AT SEA.
95
etter
lence
, she
am
" I can get drinks for this hero book," said he,
"For it is Mary's best treasure, he, he ! "
And clutching the book, Ujj the stairs he tied.
Across to the dramshop with uttermost speed.
Cho. — Save Pa, instead, etc.
THE STORM AT SEA.
The storm had driven the vessel on
Out of her course, all reckoning gone,
And not prepared for a lengthy voyage.
They suffered from thirst amid the work and noise.
For they worked at the pumps by night and day,
That the good old ship might hold its way ;
When, lo ! the mist rose, and a ship they see.
And signal at once, " Give water to me."
And the ship answered, " Dip down in the sea ;
The water's as fresh as it is free."
'Twas the Amazon — fresh-water river — they were sailing
on ;
One hundred and eighty miles wide, and four thousand
miles long.
How like us, often on the ocean of life,
Fainting and weak in the battle and strife.
With faith for our rope, yet our prayer-bucket empty,
While we perish for lack in an ocean of plenty.
"I « "
^mm^mm
AUG - 5 »65
96
FALLEN ROSE LEAVES.
'
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FOR GOD, AND HOME, AND NATIVE LAND.
TuME — "Onward, Christian soldiers."
We dare stand for God, and home, and native land,
A united army in the temperance band ;
Conscripts we, of conscience, for the mighty work.
Can we dare in God's sight, from our duty shirk ?
Chorus — For a day is coming, when our Lord shall say,
"Did you, by your ballot, your weak brother
slay?"
Forward, until victory through our land resounds.
And not a manufactory of alcholic drink is found ;
Our ports, too, let us close to the accursed thing,
And the stumbling-block remove that causes sin.
Cho. — For a day is coming, etc.
Many, many thousands join our temperance band,
Many still are coming over all the land.
Like a mighty army, every age and tongue.
From palace, hall, cottage home, shanty and wigwam.
Cho. — For a day is coming, etc.
!■
THE VOICE OF JESUS.
There is no voice like Jesus', '
That gentle, still, small voice.
That comes to our hearts, in darkened paths,
And bids us still rejoice.
" Ye believe in God " it says to each,
"Believe also in Me ;"
Go on and do, nor fear but you
"Shall My salvation see."
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