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MacDougall ■n.M.utjg:-, ,:ia:=j. t-i ii — cs-.-Jsej-- ■ — ; f)k« ■m}sm«>i!»«imii}memm'immim\ rUy / BOYHOOD HOTJES; i ■* COMPRISING A COLLECTION OF SIMPLE POEMS, SONGS AND ODES. BY ARCHIBALD M' ALPINE TAYLOR. -•-♦-• I HUNTER, ROSE AND COMPANY. 1881. PS 24-se A92 8(S. 71986 Enterrd according to Act of the Parlia- ment of Canada, in the year one thoii- satid eight hundred and eighty-one, by Archibald M' Alpine Taylor, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture. Printed and Bound BY Hl'ntbr, Rose & Company. ^ / COKTEI^TS* PAGE Welcome 9 Mabel 22 Spes Gloria) --.- ^-y Long ago ^g Love's Glorification— Dedicated to M - - - 50 The Children . - 53 Love's Legend . . -55 The Sailors' Prayer gg P^^ide '_ QQ To One I Love go The Summer Sabbath Mom - - - . - - 62 Or Ever """-------64. A Student's Thought ---65 Spring in the Heart - •'76 A Student's Death -. yg To a Lady Weeping yg Sailor's Grave - ---79 Hector and Alice - g-. Canadian Hymn -----.,.. ia^ Sang of the Cradle 201 'n>ood-bye " : In Three Parts ----"' 104 ;^^°"^ -106 roM j^ She is Sleeping ^ ,^^ The Truant-Player's Sister - 108 Inconstancy -._ 111 On the Death of a Friend ijo To an Idiot Child .' [ lu iv CONTENTS. *^ I'AOE Love and Autumn - . - - - -- - - - 115 Beware -. 117 Genius - - - - 'I H|"'| /"| " ' " ^^^ Youth, Love and th« Grave ^'J. '?L^^ J . - - 121 To A - - - - - - - - - 123 Mom- - - - ,^,.^^,,..- - - - - 124 Stemming the Stream - - - • - - - - 124 Canada's Sons to their Sires - - - - - - 1 25 A Lesson ._--.-- • - - 128 To an Old Maid - - - "-- . . -^ . - 129 For a Little Girl's Album - - - - - - - 130 Lines Suggested by the Death of W. C. Bryant - - - 131 Thy Brother 135 The Sea by Moonlight 135 Love's Offering — A Flower 136 The Soldier-Boy 138 The Lost Hope 130 Thomas Carlyle : In Memoriam 140 Nature's Echoes - - - - 146 Daughters of the West •- ■• w ^- - . - - - 147 Sorrow - - • ■■. -> * 149 A Thought 150 To a Kind Friend - - 150 Lost - - 152 Marriage Hymn - - - - 153 A Tribute - - - - 154 The Old Teacher- - - " " " " " - 155 The Song of Bobbie Burns IJl It May not Be -162 The Light, the Truth, the Way 163 A Thought 163 Battle Hymn 164 In Vain - - - - 166 Loyalty and War - - - - - - - - 167 To a Would-be Suicide .-.---- 175 4- INTIIODUCTION. *' The proudest i)eer in all the realm Shall not wear head upon his shoulders Unless he pay mo tribute."— Henuy vi. The intense spii-it of toleration and liberal sentiment pervading the age is my chief plea for the publication of my little book. Trusting more to the mercy and considerateness of the reading people, than to any meritoriousness of my work, 1 indulge the hope that honest effort, however mediocre its result, may command their commendation rather than their censure. In doffing my hat to the world I fear it may discover my baldness. It must not be expected that the poetic productions of any native Canadian can, with justice, be compared with tliose of such masters of the lyre as Tennyson or Swin- burne, Longfellow or Holmes, not to speak of the multi- tude of older masters ; for, in this country poetry has not yet received the recognition of an art, and, although the native poetic element may be as rich as that of older countries, Canadian poetry must, for some time, lack much of that exquisite elegance of diction, and perfect polish of construction characteristic of enlightened art ; nor should it, I think, be expected that the immature efforts of a I VI INTRODUCTION. puerile pen should be judged in the light of Canadian poetry advanced beyond the transition period, and im- pressed with the fixed individuality of genius ; for it must be conceded that, even in young Canada, we have poets of which any nation might feel proud. I will be pardoned, I trust, for stating that during the few years of which every leisure moment has been devoted to the writing of these poems, I h ave, amidst many difficulties and disadvantages, for which, I am alike thankful to Providence and humanity, endeavored to keep faith with my profession both in preparation and practice. What I might achieve under more propitious circumstances, it would, on my part, be imprudent to conjecture ; nor can I any more promise unswerving allegiance to the olive- crowned muse in the future, than I have given in the past ; for I am only yet in the heat of a battle which I must wage, even though I may not win. But one thing I can, and do promise, that by whatever circumstances I shall be surrounded, I shall ahvays do my best ; and should there be but little sunshine I will the better improve that little. . , It is interesting to observe that, among the arts, poetry is the only one left entirely to the care of the gods. The aspiring musician, painter or sculptor can, without dif- ficulty, secure the requisite art education under competent masters, while the young poet, without aid or encourage- ment, must, led by the instinct of taste, preserve faith- fulness to both nature and art, or wither under the lash of public criticism until experience makes him wise. The I INTRODUCTION. Vll public, however, is not often too severe, and it is in anti- cipation of this " pleasing- fear " I make my first literary adventure, hoping fully and profitably to appreciate the candid criticism of the world. Should the poems merit reading, I shall be greatly pleased ; should they bo worthy of criticism, I shall be delighted ; should a small measure of approval greet them, I shall feel greatly encouraged ; and only should they provoke ridicule, shall I feel slightly ■disappointed and hopelessly discouraged. " Here's freedom to him that wad reail, Here's freedom to him that wad write ! There's nane ever feared that the truth should be heard, But they wham the truth wad indict,"— Blbns. A. M. TAYLOR. Clinton, August 23rd, 1831. .*^ BOYHOOD HOUBS. -•-♦.•- ^■■■■-; ■/■TV,;:;' welcome.* :,v.,; Hail ! princely scion of that noble name, Whose members died to build their country's fame, Whose broadswords gleam'd in majesty and might, Who lived f 3r freedom, — died for Truth and Right ! Thou gallant son of such immortal sires, Bred from their loins, and nurtured by their fires, With pride in thee, thy country's raptured strain, From its warm bosom, o'er Atlanta's main. Far as the breakers of the frozen North, Pours forth its praises of exalted worth. Behold how every leaf in Scotia's vales Breathes out sweet echoes to the sighing gales, To bless some mem'ry of thy lineage old Or shout of valor that hath ne'er been told. Breathe on, sweet vales, and heather-crowned hills ; Your liquid warblings sing, ye rippling rills ; Ye thronging crowds, that say, adieu, in tears, kStill louder shout, till we can hear thy cheers, — Till our broad land to its remotest bound, Shall wake its music to the thrilling sound ; — * Written and published on the arrival of the Marquis and Princess ia Canada. J^ B 10 BOYHOOD HOURS 1 J 1! Till the dark oceans of the east and west Shall sing for glory o'er Kanatia's breast, — Till every tongue shall be a patriot lyre, And every heart becomes a patriot fire ! For thee the muse of wild Canadian song Stands lonely waiting, 'midst the varied throng, Sparkled her sandals with the morning dew ; Her garments, rustic, of the leaves that grew Fast by dark stream with ivy mantled red ; A halo of bright cressets on her head ; Upon her brow, Hope's pure and twinkling star Spreads its white lustre o'er the waves afar ; Her right hand waves the flag of victory ; Her left, subdues the chiding of the sea, Long hath she strode, with patient hope imbued, The silent kingdoms of the trackless wood. Seeking a heart, her pliant hand could move. And rouse its throbbings to a theme of love. Behold ! she waits her jiatron good and brave, By the blue waters of Atlantic's wave ; And, cheered by love, long cherished, and last won, Bathed in a tide whose streams have just begun. Her notes, aspiring, reach the rounded skies. And swell in sweetness as their raptures rise. Hail ! Princess, virtuous, world-renowned, beloved ! We bid thee welcome, here so far removed From Her, whose love has always been thy light ; From that great Queen, who sways a Christian might, Ruling the movements of one half the world. With sword unsheathed, and with flag unfurled. Oh welcome ! is the song of every voice ; Thy welcomes are our nation's chiefest joys. Though we display no glittering castle-towers, Nor lovely English vales embalmed by flowers, Nor bosky parks abounding in choice game, Nor burnished palaces in golden flame, WELCOME. 11 Yet, we can give a land that's rich and free, In Home, in Heart, in Hope, in Liberty, — An infant empire in the mighty West, Becked by three oceans to a native rest ; A virgin soil, a freedom-loving land, A race that guard it with an iron hand. We tender thee, a nation's noblest dower. Brave patriot hearts, — the empire's only power ; And, oh ! we pledge by our ancestors' name. By all that's holy, — by that heavenly flame That filled the bosoms of the wise and great, To strengthen monarchy,— protect our State, To fight for Freedom, and wear Honor's crown. To strike th' aggressor and the tyrant down, To rule supreme by valor and by lore. Or die victorious as our sires before ! Hail ! glorious union with our motherland Hail ! Royal pair that strengthens that dear band Oh, may young Canada's congenial hearth Protect your virtues, and exalt your worth ; May each broad vale resound with Nature's voice, To fire the muses of your sacred joys ; May each primeval mount sublimely rise, And point your spirits to the heavenly prize ; May art's bright flag unfurl on every breeze ; May Science rule our nation still in peace ; May Education stretch her golden wings And soar to realms whence living wisdom springs ; Till Nature's God commaiids on Nature's throne. And skeptic knowledge be for e'er o'erthrown ! 12 III I BOYHOOD HOURS. ■'■-:<0^'- , •;,-••':■ MABEL. - : , (a medley.) Apollo, in his car, descending O'er Alleghany's time-worn brow, Gave one last look and smiled commending, Upon the green and purple, blending With golden raptures of his glow ; The low soft trillings of the birds — The thousand-echoed human words Gave eve their adoration sweet. ? - A gentle yellow haze now slumbered Upon the bosom of the mount ; ' / vi The troops of sunbeams, red, unnumbered, Dappled the fl'^ecy sky, encumbered \, - - With essence from the sparkling fount ; Pervading beauty — loveliness alone Reclined, in state, upon bright nature's throne. Ruling the earth with zephyr wand. Thus, with glad fascination, swaying, Calm twilight held the forest race Spell-bound ; till sombre shades, arraying. And dallying over rock, and playing, And deepening on the valley's face, Heralded coming eve. Once more The sun was sinking on the yellow shore. And nature languished in a dream. Pale and mute, was Mabel standing. Like some dai'k statue of old Rome, Watching below the blue waves stranding Of the glorious lake that, there expanding, Mirrored the evening star's blue home, MABEL. 18 With such an excellence of love, As if the earth were heaven above, And God's abode were in the deep. The river, further on, went moaning Its lonely way towards the sea; i While on its banks, sat laughing, groaning, In jeer, in jest, grimace and yawning. Beside their watchfire's blazing glee, Creatures of wild fantastic form — Dark spirits like a midnight storm — Scions of passion — fiendish sprites. Tall, swarthy forms, with hawk-eyes peering ; Grotesquely clad and fearless in fray ; A language, every language nearing ; Mixed manners, to all castes appearing, From India to America. By plunder, thefts, and murder cold, For lands, for wealth, or tempting gold, They did their livelihood maintain. The honest settler, by oppression Compelled to flee his rude chateau, And to abandon all possession. Despite appeal or intercession, Strength of the sword or courage true. Fled fast, as doves before a hawk. O'er mountain-path, a hopeless flock, Once more to rear their cherished hope. Each desperate ruled act and intention ; Each was his subject and his king ; But one. alone they dared not mention — From her alone they brooked .prevention — Her eye alone could rev'rence bring, 14 BOYHOOD HOURS. One word and that could respect command- One power subdued — the enchantress wand Of Mabel, the Gipsy mother. Fierce, daring, inithless, independent ; With iron will, strong, lightning power, She had obtained divine ascendant ; Her mind was like a gem resplendent, Conspicuous in a ruined tower, Pregnant still with honest pride, Though sunk in mis'ry, and denied All but the terror of mankind. Her life was mystery, as her station, To all those savage untaught minds ; Nor did they quest her name or nation — They fancied in imagination That she was goddess of the winds — That, at her magic touch, the earth Would be dissolved — that time had birth Co-eval with her virgin life. All known was this : — one stormy morning, Beneath the refuge of a rock. Just as the clarion-bird sang warning Of day, one of the band, returning From his depredatory walk, Espied a woman, bending low. And singing, softly, words of woe Unto two babes of innocence. Ere long, one child, alone, was kissing The bosom of its Gipsy mother ; And, as the autumn winds went hissing, And, as the winter snow was missing, Yet ne'er returned the darling other, MABEL. Beneath the cedar of the cave, The bryony clasps a little grave— The grave of the little strantrer. Within that grave, with Essie buried, Lay, mouldering, Mabel's hopes and fears ; A something awful, in it, carried A melancholy, as she tarried, Unto her bosom, while she appears Half-terrified, half-glad, to read The words she placed at Essie's head. With ashen face, and dismal brow ':— 15 THE EPITAPH." Sleep ! gentle Essie, sleep !— The woodbine is twining - Over thy grave; And the wild flowers repining. Over thee wave. Sleep ! Sleep ! Sleep ! gentle Essie, sleep ! The leaves they are turning Yellow and sear ; Now the mountain is mournino-, Casting a tear. Sleep ! Sleep ! Sleep ! gentle Essie, sleep ! — The wild wind, careering, Pjisses thee by ; Spring-time is nearing — Sadder am I. Sleep ! Sleep I H*r 10 liil liOYHOOD HOURS. Sleep ! gentle Essie, sleep ! — The scent-flowers are springing, Greeting the May ; And the wild warblers singing Haply of thee. Sleep ! Sleep ! Those simple words of love she hallowed — A lich, and truthful picture-light Of those long days of youtL, when follow'd Wisdom, piety, and mirth, now swallow'd In a sea of misery and night ; And dreaded them, because they stung Her conscience like a viper's tongue. With the sharp sense of some black deed Bright Zoe, a darling gem of nature, Her mother's joy and sacred care, In body, mind and beauty, was mature ; A face, like royalty, divinely fair ; Eyes, soft and dreamy, as an eve In autumn ; love that would relieve The ice from off a poor man's heart. Pure as the dove, gay as the swallow, And free as is the mountain air ; Her sweet voice, the soft quivering mallow Her bosom the zephyr-blown billow ; — The violin, lute and guitar. Transformed into an From the far east ; so did the night Press on me with thy life — hearing I weened, in every breeze, the fearing Of death, dishonor, black affright; Still loved I thee through hard despair, Till, like a hope-star, from afar Thou didst illume my weary life ! And as thy notes this eve descended, I hearkened with a love and fear ; I saw, transformed, renewed, amended, Myself in youth ; and when they ended. The swelling symphonies sincere Found echoing-space within my heart, And sorrow's vail seem'd rent apart, ' ' And I was young and one with thee. But when I heard the song of stranger Breathe from the bosom of my Zoe, I thought of some dark mountain-ranger Who had beguiled thy heart from danger — A life brimful of sullen woe — My tangled life, in faith, returned, Shrouded in black, cold, sear and burned By love's fond passion's boundless sway ! Zoe 1 owed her head in sorrowing sobbing — Long ere her lips could dare reply — Then told, with aching heart, hot throbbing, And long-drawn breath her bosom robbing, Th' adventure on the mountain high ; Till, as she ceased, eve's twinkling star MABEL. 28 Was lost among her sisters fair, And sleep reclaimed the silent world. There are, who, bom to state and station. Nurtured by pride in room of thought, Existent still in every nation. Misname for love hallucination, And ignorance for wisdom fraught — Who seek to circumscribe the way In which unfettered love should stray, Guiding its throbs by science cold. They are a curse ; their laws are erring, Reproach to wisdom, open shame ; Their art provokes more dismal fearing. Dire agony, lust, sin ensnaring, — More wreck of life, than sword or flame ! No ! fortune cannot give content, Nor wealth atone for love misspent — Love is its only, own reward. Love is the crystal, life surrounding Disposes it to relish joy ; Presents a world with thought abounding ; Protects its craft on shoals from grounding ; In heart makes human heart rely : — That spirit pure to mortals given. When life exulting looks to heaven — Love is great life in great devotion. Oh ! happy twain, midst flowerj-; reclining, Where that sweet copse its fragrance spreads. What reck ye of the world's repining. While love, in joy, its task assigning, Showers stars of blessing on your heads ? The arbor leaves their vespers hymn, The songsters speak their warblings trim, And life embosoms you as one. i li 24 BOYHOOD HOURS. I hear you in that pristine bower ; Would to my heart such lot were mine ! ■. Behold you, hallowed by love's power, To each, each a protecting tower, Arms lock and whispering souls combine ! Oh ! now I see the shallop light Plunge in the water's bosom bright, , At distance hear this sons : — M BOAT SONG. The daylight is ending, the blue waves are stranding. The stars now are twinkling in peerless delight ; The woodlands are sighing, our echoes are d3dng, The west is still ruddy with perishing light. Sing, love, oh, sing ! for the pride of the waters — I'll pull for my blades they are sturdy and true ; I'll sing for the princess of Beauty's fair daughters, Rosy her cheek, and her eyes of soft blue. The pale moon is shining, for lovers divining, The sky is now crystalline spangled with sheen ; The boat swiftly moving, we silently loving, Shall cut through the waves to the river bower green. Sing, love, oh sing ! though tl>e moments are flying, Life is not measured by moments of time ; Sweeter, oh far, is one love-song undying Than all the fleet seasons that vanish as rime ! May thy dear heart, confiding, unknown to all chiding. Move peacefully on as the wavelets below — No storms ever waning, no dark passions marring The love-light illuming thy bosom's soft flow. Ripple and sally ye sons of the mountain ; Sparkle and flash in the moonlight's white glee ! Lovely Diana ! aloft from thy fountain, Pour down thy sweet rays on my lover and me. MABEL. 25 Full through the bower the song is flowing, Each cadence dying softly sweet ; Leal-hearted lovers swiftly rowing Merrily, merrily, merrily going, The moving oars to music beat ; They kiss the water's quivering lip, And drink new joys at every dip, Then list the day of lover's lute. ng. As rich as bright imagination, Reposed the grandeur of the scene ; The banks, embowered in decoration ; Wreath swelled o'er wreath in art's relation, While dancing star-light filled between, The boughs, festooned from shore to shore, Left scanty room to ply the oar , The trickling eddies sang beneath. 3cn. linff: &» Adown, the trembling waves dividing, Flew in its pomp the shallop gay O'er billowy crest in mirth subsiding, The lovers deemed their joys abiding — Will raptured lovers learn delay ? Turn on your course, ye happy pair ! Reck not to follow joy too far ! — In every cup of bliss are dregs. As springs the wolf on houseless stranger, Or catamount upon its prey. So, from the bower, the mountain ranger. His coarse throat filled with sounds of danger, Leaped for the lover's way ! Young William quick discerned their ire. And bent with more than mortal fire ; V\^hile Zoe, undaunted, whispered cheer. C ^iiiii ^6 BOYHOOD HOURS. Stout William's heart was strong and noble His brawny arm like iron band ; His common share, he'd met of trouble. But strength made peril seem a bubble, And courage owned his ruling hand. Against the four, in single might. He draws his oars with vantage slight. And fearless hails his ribald foes ; " Pull, wrangling dogs ! I scorn your raving; My bride is yours, when ye overtake, Your sappling muscle aid is craving ! Behold my lover's locks are waving Defiant to j^our anger's ache, Well for his bride can William die — Die thrice — but not while oars can play ; Nor guilt I own, nor insult brook ! " He plied his art in skilful fashion ; Swift tiew the boat along the wave ; His foes had soon subdued their passion, And homeward turned in contemplvition. For vandal host love courage brave, Had not the oar-blade, trebly tried. Broke at the row-lock by his side ! — Upon such reeds doth fortune hang. Within his arms he seized his treasure ; Plunged fearless in the chilly tide ; Keached for the shore in sturdy measure, — Forth came the band in mean displeasure. And barred him ere he reached the side. Bravely he fought, but fought in vain To save his bride from woeful pain — He, struggling, fell amid the odds. ':AS3 ammmm MABEL. A band of Gipsy youth, the rowers, Who, envious of fair Zoe's elect, And actuated by the powers Of native hate, among the bowers. By point agreed, did all collect, To Mabel's cave they bore him on, There, chained him to a rock-rent stone Unknown to Zoe, who mourned him dead. By day, by night, alone she wandered. Distraction bordering on her mind, O'er rock and rent where, faint, meandered Dark, bubbling stream, from cleft engendered By secret power ; the sorrowing wind Took up her frantic plaint, and wove Its echoes through each alpine grove, JNear to the cave she strayed and sang. 27 ZOE S SONG. No more I hear my William's song, No love-notes warm my breast ; Cold are the voices borne along. From the far deepening west. The lay-birds' trill upon the hill, All destitute of love, Floats idly down, from warblers flown To join in choral grove. My day is gone, my night is on ; Dark sorrow brooding o'er My lonely soul, the love-lit sun, Excludes for ever more I Oh ye bright skies ! could I but rise Where your light glory swells — 1, pinioned soft, should mount aloft To where my William dwells ! 28 t !* BOYHOOD HOURS. 'Tis vainest hope in mortal man To seek immortal lore ; Yet Thou above, high Sovereign, can Grant wisdom in rich store. With heavenly fire, my heart inspire To anchor faith in heaven ; With seraph star, guide, from afar, My soul with sorrow riven. Gone are the charms that held me true To this foul forest life — Gone is the star that led me through The gloomy vale of strife : Unmingled quiet claims the night ; The river murmurs low ; Hush ! troubled soul, I hear the roll Of music soft below ! WILLIAM S «" THK CHILDREN. 53 THE CHILDREN. What time I walk my daily path, The little children round me play ; 1 see them dancing on the heath ; I hear them laugh the hours away. Like stars, their eyes are sparkling bright ; Their voices rippling like the stream ; Their feet as ruddy, hearts as light, As rosy morn's first dancing beam. And while they sing the chorus loud, Their youthful bosoms throbbing high. They seem with voices sweet endowed, As warbling children of the sky ! Within their minds there is no space For distant, cold, unborn to-morrow ; No sullen cloud obscures the face Of their pure sky, with pain or sorrow. New fancies rise at every breath, Fresh charms at every step appear ; While hope smiles to the gates of death And Faith forbids the faltering tear. For them, the song of every breeze Is sweetened by the blooming sod ; To them, the music of the t^ees. Is nature speaking to her God. 'Tis theirs to pluck the flaunting flowers. That hang like drooping orbs of gold ; 'Tis theirs to ramble through the bowers And sing the songs we loved of old. 54 BOYHOOD HOURS. li Theirs are the broad and verdant field, The stream, the forest, and the fountain ; Theirs are the shades the valleys yield, The lofty kingdom of the mountain ! All theirs the glory of the morn, The fulgent excellence of day ; All theirs is Luna's silvery horn, The glittering host in night's array. Throughout this world, this strange, old world, I meet them sporting everywhere, When loaves of spring are yet unfurled, Or when the autumn woods are bare. As flowers that grov-i in desert spots. To cheer the lonely pilgrim on, They twine about our words and thoughts, Inspiring hope when hope is gone. Oh, happy, happy, youthful hearts ! " Oh bounding spirits young and glad ! How little do you feel the darts That pierce man's soul and drive him mad ! How lightly do you bear the load. The curse, the darkness, and the toil ; How sprightly do you trip the road, Nor sink beneath its lustred foil ! Your sorrows are but flakes of snow, That melt, aud moisten in your mirth ; In grief, your tears can overflow And drown the tyrant in his birth ! You know not of the darkened soul, The toiling brain that will not rest, ^^! love's legend. The awful floods that ever roll, Within the bondage of the breast ! You know not of the stfled sighs, The swelling sobs that never burst, The long-loved hope that silent dies, Nor thinks to force its fetters curst ! You know not of the feeble knee, The faltering hand, the palsied arm, The sunken eyes that dimly see, The pallid cheek without a charm ! You know not of the breaking heart, The noisless, toilsome, gnawing pain, The burning tear, that will not start, The past, that will not live again ! The sorest pains on all this earth, Those who endure can only know ; We all are martyrs to our worth. We wear the cross the crown forego ! But, long as on the grassy plain. We see the sportive children play, We'll dream us children o'er again. And smile our phantom fears away. 55 LOVE'S LEGEND. Weird and wild, on the fleet south wind, The rural song is going ; Across my path, with fragrant breath The voice of Spring is flowing ; 1 u 56 BOYHOOD HOURS. The western sky in vernal joy With patines gold is burnished ; The feathered crowd are trilling loud Their songs with swift wings furnished. Come, darling, come, and let us seek, Where sombre shades are deeping, A mossy nook by the rippling brook In which the flowers lie sleeping. As the dewdrops sleep on thy rosy lip, The breeze with thy tresses playing, I'll drink new joys, from thy soft blue eyes, The smile on thy cheek delaying. We'll whisper low of the dreams of youth, How days, like dreams went fleeting ; The stars as they rise in the azure skies Shall vigil love's mystical meeting ; While the moon on her march 'neath the spangled arch,| A sea of cloudless glory. From her sceptred clime, shall smile sublime, Like the charm of an ancient story. When the world's rude voice shall be chained at rest, The world's cold eye aclosing, I'll tell thee, love, of a gentle dove. Who is now in her grave reposing. Her eyes were blue, of the Saxon hue A star in each was shining Her cheeks aglow, her brows as snow. Like yon moon in the vault reclining As a silken veil, down her classic brow, The sable threads hung loosely ; O'er her bosom rare, on her cheeks so fair, They clustered most profusely ; love's legf.nd. She was sweet in mien, as a beav'n-born queen- She was a fairy creature, — Immortal love in her bosom wove And hallowed every feature We had tripp'd along, with a gladsome song To the old log school with pleasure ; We had both been born on a bright June morn, Our joys were a common measure ; We grew at length, to prime and strength, We grew in fond affection, As each fleeting day revolved away, Our hopes approached perfection. Splendidly bright, as the evening star, In its crystal couch reposing, Was the light she cast on my soul oppressed. When the gates of Hope were closing ; When the world's vain toil, man's angry broil Would darken life's radiant portal : Then her peerless blue eyes were my mirror of joys. There dwelt my rapture immortal. Roaming alone through the woody dell. The mingling cowbells chiming, With a far ding dong, all the green hills among Or mead with its river rhyming ; In Fancy's dream, with a gladdening gleam. She would rise to the mind's conception, And I paused to sigh with a love-moist eye Till the spell would find adoption. Both day and night, as a guardian light, The mystical lamp was burning. Illuming my path, from the wiles of wrath, My heart from the sea of mourning ; 57 E 5S BOYHOOD HOURS. But the flame of faith was quenched by death, By the fang of fate love perished, As an Autumn day, she faded away, A dream or a flower fond cherished. While she moved in the world of time, Her love-lit eye still shining, 'Twas my only pride, to call her my bride And banish all repining ; And, when she fled with the voiceless dead, My eveiy thought was sorrow, And my soul would burst, from its fetters curst, As I dreamed of the gloomy morrow. Now dry all the tears from thy tender cheek, My legend of sorrow is ended; Full well do I know of the doubts and throe In thy young heart's shrine have blended ; To my darling two, I shall still be true, Since this sweet hope is given ; Your matchless worth, I may love on earth. Yet love my lost in heaven ! THE SAILOR'S PRAYER. 1'Mi I. God of the mighty deep ! Whose awful roar Breaks our still vigil's sleep ! We're far from friend or shore ! Loud thunder swells in every treacherous wave,- Death hisses from the cresting foam — O save Thy sons of ocean ! God, above the rave m THE sailor's prayer. And fury of the storm, Hear Thou the sailor's prayer ! Stretch forth thy mighty arm ! Though land be distant, Thou art near ! II. God of unmeasured strength ! Ttiose mountains dark That heave their curling length — These are Thy work. From sleep profound within the glassy brine They burst in anger at a word of Thine And close in horrid strife ! O Thou divine Omniscient Captain ! Speak As of old, on Galilee, Father of Might ! Oh, break The power of death lashing the sea ! III. 59 Father of mercy, pity, love, The widows' God ! Between thy cherubim, oh, move ! Stretch forth thy rod Of glory, majesty and might ! The wail Of anguish — stilling throbs of prayer. Wrung from the souls we love, afar, oh, hear ! Our sweethearts, wives and children ! Accents frail From their sweet lips of innocence and love, "Will surely wing above the deafening gale To Thy bright throne above Oh hear Most High ! — Beside our cabins, door, On yon far distant shore, AVliere the billows hoarsely snore. 60 BOYHOOD HOURS. Stand our wives convulsed, pale, In the withering, weltering gale, Their hearts are rent, distressed, — A babe on every breast. O'er the wide and watery main, Bring us home to them again ! God of heaven hear their prayer : — " Brine: them home to us aerain, God of the storm ! " Bring our husbands home again, God of love ! " If they sink into the deep, into everlasting sleep, " When their brave hearts cease to beat " With the sailor's dauntless heat, " May their spirits. Father, rise " To Thy kingdom in the skies •* Dead or living be their God, " our. Father ! " •|1 Brave boys, struggle through the blast ; Should we conquer it at last, God be praised ! We have prayed, let us toil, . With hope our bosoms warm. We will grapple with the storm. Ho ! ho ! boys, ho ! ho ! pull away ! If we're conquered by the blast, We will perish on the mast, God shall dry the widow's.tears. He shall soothe the orphans' fears. God be praised ! God be praised. Amen ! PRIDE. TwAS a meaningless, harmless word. Spoken to test love's truth. But it pierced like a poisoned sword The hope and the heart of youth ; 5, tRlDE. For it grew and revelled and sighed At the feasts of the demon Pride. The light of their love delayed, Perished the joy of the past, And the spirit of faith decayed, Till it faltered in death at last ; For anger arose from the tide That flowed from the fount of Pride. Their lives have no sacred charm. Their eyes no language of mirth, Their souls are involved in storm. In the winds of the bitter north ; For pride and anger and care Have nurtured and bred despair. The golden tinted morn, With dew-incensed brow, Bui*sting on earth forlorn, With heavenly light aglow. Can wake not a slumbering power. For love hath forsaken her bower. The blushing and dappling eve, The sun on his rubied throne. The choral band — the sunlit wave. Or the day of labor done, Can never restore that warmly throb That th'envious hand of pride did rob. Oh Love ! thou prettiest flower, The only blessing given To guide us in the evil hour. And pilot our path to heaven ; Yet still, in the sinful passions' train There is not a brier but may give thee pain. Gl i f •r 62 BOYHOOD HOURS. TO ONE I LOVE. Were all the sky one blue expanded scroll ; The sun a quenchless fount of golden ink ; My alphabet, the stars that nightly roll Their pearly orbits round the azure brink ; My vigil-lamp, yon phosphorescent moon ; My pen, a sunbeam ; my compositors, The angels pouring from celestial throne, With lightning press, my heart's sweet characters ; A volume I'd compile as great as heav'n, And have it cinctured with a zone of pearl, The ke}'^ interpretative to thee given, That its mysteriousness thou might'st unfurl — One deep, eternal song inscribed to thee And all its gist my love, my love to Thee ! THE SUMMER SABBATH MORN. The voice of labor's wheel is hushed, no sound falls on the ear. Save the voluptuous matin-note of warblers singing clear ; The universal Sabbath rest of Nature and of God Hath breathed its sweet quietus and sacred joy abroad. From the far east, the rubied cloud has sailed, on wings, away ; And the raptured bosom of the sky proclaims the birth of day. Up from his burnished chariot-couch, imperial Phoebus hies, To dry with sympathetic smile the tear from nature's eyes ; While sable Erebus forsakes the region of the blest, And wraps his dark funereal veil on the portals of the west. THE SUMMER SABBATH MORN. 63 Oh I Mom most hallowed ! Sabbath morn, upon whoso anf,'el smile, Looms not a cloud of guilt or woe, breathes not the sound of toil ; There is a grandeur in thy life, a magic loftier far Than all the glittering pomp, of wealth, the pageantry of war; There is an eloquence of love, in thy soft arched brow. That not the fairest touch of Art or Science can bestow ; There is a splendor glorified by thy deep reign of peace, When power and wealth are slumbering, and human pas- sions cease, When the frivolity and pride of human lust repose, When Nature praises Nature's God, and Hope's bright river flows. Methinks upon Creation's morn,when, new-born in the arch, The myriad constellations bright, assumed their silent march ; Such peerless joy ineffable had dawned on mortal eyes, Such radiance must have filled the earth, and reigned in paradise ! Methinks, that, when the warning bell shall toll its last deep knell. And all the ransomed host arise 'mid glories that excel, Transcendant beauty, such as this, shall animate, amaze. And cause each swelling heart to rise in everlasting praise I And now, with holy, happy hearts, the family choir is singing, And now, with sacred, solemn peal, the Sabbath bells are ringing. In swells of softest symphonies, they fill the morning air, And call the weary sons of toil to the sj^nagogues of praver. Adown the long, still avenues, of cool sequestering trees. The temple sends her sweet appeal on morning's mur- muring breeze ; 64 BOYHOOD HOURS. m And out among the rural hills, and cheerful country domes It breaks to still the struggling souls and solemnize their homes, " Forth from the haunts of hin and woe, come forth ye sons of sorrow, Nor let salvation, free to-day, be death, remorse to- morrow. Come forth, ye weary sons of toil, released from labor's wheel ! Accept the precious rest and peace the gospel truths re- veal! Come forth ye thirsty, hungry, sad, to where abundance dwells, To that eternal fount of love, from which salvation wells ! Come forth, all ye, whose noble parts are canopied in night And bask in the Sabbatic bliss of heaven's effulgent light! ' OR EVER. Or ever the vestal star of eve Shall have couched in the pearly west, Or ever the gloomy veil of night Shall have sunk on the world at rest, My lover shall know that I love him, That a niaiden's heart can be true. That I only concealed expressing My love till it stronger grew. Or ever the rays of beauteous mom Shall have shed on the love-lorn earth. Or ever the huntsman's silvery horn Shall have spoke its matins forth ; A STUDENTS THOUGHT. G5 livy leir ye to- Qr's re- iice Is! in t!" My lover shall troth a token, To me of his love so sweet ; Or the spell of my life be broken, And this bosom shall cease to beat ! Or ever I break my vows, love, Those vows of life and death, Or ever thou break thine own, love, This heart shall still in death ! My smiles thou once did prize, love, And my tears, as I wept thine own, But a fairer face thou hast won, love, I must weep, I must die, alone ! Or the golden sun had risen, Or his mantling essence spread, Tho soul had winged its prison, The lovely flower was dead ! Or the dew of morn had mounted To the home of its second birth, The tolls of the knell were counted, They had laid her in the earth ! A STUDENT'S THOUGHT. You ask me why I labor thus, And why youth's eye should dim with age, And why I call the night, my day To ponder on the painted page. You say my heart should be as light As wont it was in boyhood's days. If I would cease to be the slave Of wisdom and her lurinsr maze. WW GO BOYHOOD HOURS. For all around are cheerful hearts, And all around are laughing lips ; Some dancing on the flowery mead, Some sailing off on golden ships. Come, let your books in night repose. And lay the weary pen at rest ; Come, come and grace the mystic dance And cheer a waiting damsel's breast ! For we remember, comrade dear, In days gone by, your merry ways ; No happier voice the chorus joined Nor lighter foot was in the race. We called you king ; you could not know The confidence you bore awaj''. The day you left our gleesome band To follow learning's golden ray. r nV But leave your lore, a single night To slumber in its gilded tomb ; , | Come- see the lips you kissed in bud And kiss them beautiful in bloom. ' ;; " Dear boys ! I catch the dreamy clue — The past reviving ; now my brain Depicts the glowing photograph, And in my youth I live again. ' |; Dear boys ! although the ruddy joy ..^ Of sportive youth has left my cheek, ■, Although these lips arc silent now, V That, forward once, were wont to speak. Oh could you force the prison walls That hold my heart in servitude, -,-. JOii-« ■.-?e-+^-i A student's thought. With deeper, purer love tliE.n youth, You would behold my heart imbued. A suffering, sorrowing world has claimed My heart to call its treasures in, That it may have a bounteous store To love and lure from sloth and sin. Oh ! could I break the sacred seal That holds my lips in silent pain, A tide of nobler eloquence Would make them yours, in youth again 1 The veil that o'er my vision steals, Some heavenly hand has woven there. That I may dimly see the earth — Its love, pride, anguish, lust, despair ! And could I pierce this sombre shade That clouds my vision from your sight. Far brighter than in days of yore, Would beam the glad responsive light. It glads my soul to see you here ! I give you now my pledge and word, I shall forsake the mystic page, And we'll renew the broken chord ! And, on the way, to soothe the hour I- And hold our old communion dear. You'll hear me v^hy I tread that path, ? ^ To you, so destitute of cheer. This is no age of ghost and dream, Nor soul-betraying mystery ; The muses and the fates are dead. And gone the spell of prophecy. 67 68 BOYHOOD HOURS. (5 But yet unto the faithful mind, To life alive, and fired to thought, Some hopes beyond the present rise, Some dreams beyond the present lot. One night, while I was yet a boy, Reposing in my humble bed, When heaven had set its vigil host. And all but thought, undying, dead. I pondered how my life would run, And wondered how I might provide For the big duties of a man. For all the comforts of a bride. Then deeper sank night's heavy shade, } And held me close in slumber's arms ; When through the avenues of dream Moved an epitome of charms. She moved within a moving mist ' • Of sunlight yellow, as if she ' Were wrapt in splendor, to conceal A beauty mortal might not see. ' ! But though my heart would barter worlds To drink the rapture of those eyes, To watch the love-inspiring lips, . That made dark splendor paradise, Yet, guarded by th' imial vail, The essence of her spirit bright, She, moving in her gauzy grace. Defied the artfulness of sight. She, bending low, above my sleep Just loud enough for heart to hear, A student's thought. Gave music to my spirit's ear, And clothed despair in robes of cheer. My lips essayed the palsying word, But sealed in silence they remained, Until she broke love's spell with love, And with her own, their power unchained. I murmured soft, " Oh ! lovely maid, For ever more remain with me, For love combines no sweeter charms, And earth has none so fair as thee 1" Then, from the light-cloud circling her. Voluptuous soul-enchanting came, As from Elysian minstrel poured. An eloquence I cannot name. Its sweetness was the voice of birds, Its grandeur was the ocean's roll. Its transport was the Orphean lyre. Its echoes were the curfew's toll. In fragrant breathings, sweetly sad. This strange response she warbled o'er — " Be true to life, be true to me. For I am thine for /ermore." 69 But whithe shall I seek a bower To plant h fair a virgin-rose. Or raise wall carriers heaven-high To shield thee from each blast that blows ? And there's no being, sweet enough On earth, to be thy waiting-maid. And / — bright lights, look down on me^ For I am wandering in the shade ! 70 BOYHOOD HOUES. f My right hand felt a thrilling touch, And all my blood was in a race, To kiss the lucent talisman, That stretched beyond the fairy maze. My arm, my hand remodelled grew, As chiselled from the Attic rock ; I gazed, in admiration wild, Irrevocable from the shock. Upon such matchless symmetry. Rounded and perfect in its mould, So white and clear, as to disclose The blue life-tide that through it rolled. " The hero's heart may beat obscure, The warrior's blade may rust untried, The music of the heart may die. To heart responsive unapplied. " But I shall guide thee in thy path; I'll turn for thee the book of lore. And I shall be thyself at death, For I am thine for evermore ! " ,:-:,f.-. t.^#-' But like an ant that dares a load It cannot bear unto its store. Or shepherd rude, who wins a queen. Nor dare he leave her native shore. Dead-smitten by the pang of love, And martyred by relentless shame, I ventured Scylla's vortex -wave, To 'scape the fury of the flame ! I murmured through the muffled gloom That vailed the tranquil of repose. ite>»^, A STUDENT S THOUGHT. 71 Half trembling in the hope of love, And half convulsed with anger's throes. Oh ! excellence supreme of love, Beyond the image of the mind ; The ideal of love's perfect heart, And in love's glory-cloud enshrined. The torture of a frenzied brain, The creature of a fleeting dream, A beacon in the shrouded night. Short as the cloud-begotten gleam ! But while the vase of mantling wine Shov»'s ruddy in Ipve's festal glow, I'll drink from sleep's libation, bliss That wakeful life must never know. Then linger near me, lovely maid. Though brief the season of my joy, For soon the dreamless truth of day Will night's fair galaxy destroy. I grieve that day departing brings, I grieve that light should thus be rude, I grieve that consciousness renewed. Calls back the voiceless solitude ! The world may have its cynic laugh, And hold the dreamer in disdain ; But give to me the dream of bliss Before the wakefulness of pain ! " Now, rise the hero of my heart. This arm shall wield a mighty sword, This hand shall mete the numbers out That warble to the tremblinjr chord. 72 BOYHOOD HOURS. 'I hi i!i " Seek knowledge in the greenwood shade. — Glean wisdom on the lovely shore ; Go, learn thy music from the wave, For thou art mine forever more ! " Though lorn thy pilgrimage may seem. Involved in gloom, obscured by death ; My love shall lead thee evermore, My soul incite thee with its breath. " Take up the banner of the cross, And blazon on its scarlet wing : — ' To-day the battle I begin. And from the dust shall honor spring' ! " Seize thou the stalwart sword of truth, The pen, the modern king of war , And send thy legions trooping forth, Surrounding wisdom's battle-car. " I, from the flower-embosomed vales, I, from the purple-pillared peaks, I, from the living, leaping light, That frets the blue with golden streaks, " Will garner in the essence, love, To overflowing store my heart. That I may speak the mystic tongue, And spell the syllables of art ! " Oh ! sweet shall be our evening rest, When I, rejoicing by thy side, Shall breathe this treasure- fragrance out ; To warm thy numbers with a bride. " There, as the twilight's tears of dew Glitter in morning's vestal light. THE student's THOUGHT. So shall my tiny gems of love Give elegance to glorious might, " How sweetly, when thy task is closed, Shall float above th' empurpled mead, The effluent symphonies of love, Embalming nobleness of deed ! " Thy weary head in well-won rest, The anvil of thy thought asleep, How bright shall glow love's shining hearth ! How constant shall love's vigil keep 1 " Then, in life's universal sky, Reigning all peerless in mid-dome, Shall hang one liquid golden star, And we shall kiss and call it Home," The drowning sailor, snatched ashore, And conscious both of life and death, • Can hear the billows' fatal snore, In each reviving draught of breath. AiA half he dreads to wake to life To know the peril he has passed. And half he courts the dark abode. With shades of night and death o'ercast. Thus, fettered with the chains of love, Incited by its rising star, I knew the tranquil reign of bliss. Endured the passions' stonny war ! When day recalled my life again. When conscience had unlocked the mind. The shadows of the past had flown. And light and love my life enshrined. F 73 74 BOYHOOD HOURS. !i^ l!N This, this is why, my comrades dear,- I love to mark old sayings sage, And why I make the night my day, To ponder o'er the mystic page ! When slumber seals the souls of men, And wraps the world in solitude, Forgetful of the passing hours, I drink from fountains thought-imbued. E'en now as my unwilling pen Runs staggering on the narrow blue, A still profound pervades the world ; Sweet slumber soothes with balmy dew. And, I alone, as one who seeks A brother in a field of red. Am questing for the king of truth, Among the heroes of the dead ! The little teller of my time A circle and a half has gone, Since, from oblivion's sleep, my thought Was ushered to the rising sun. Till now, the eye was clear and bright, • The ruddy fountain of the heart Sent out the bounding waves of life,- ^*^*' The eager mind fulfilled its part ; • But now, all save the monarch, mind, Revolt against the tyrant, will ; The eye neglects to guide the pen, The heart's strong pulse is almost still. The monarch, fearless, bold and grand. Speeds onward, upward, earnestly. THE student's THOUGHT. As if his mission, fate and aim, Were but to reach his native sky. He labors all the pearly day, With strong indomitable might ; He weaves his rich enduring web Beneath the canopy of night ! Again my energies renew ; Now love embraces life aglow ; I hear her stately footsteps fall ; The magic of her power I know. She hangs upon my weary neck, With sweetly fairy, gracious art, And with a confidence sublime, She whispers in my listening heart. Her palm allays my burning brow, Soothing the brain with heavenly bliss ; The amaranth of love she lays Upon my cheek — a living kiss. Again I to the battle ^o, Fresh-armed in courage, liigh with hope, And with the faithfulness of love. With art and hazard bravely cope ! In deep amazement now you ask : — " Who haunts your fancy, comrade, thus, In loyal trust and secresy, Unbosom friend, this spell to us." When I this angel maiden meet. Then, soul to soul and life to life, I'll have her name in heaven writ, — The royal name of names, — " My Wife," 75 76 BOYHOOD HOURS. lr-1 SPRING IN THE HEART. Oh, give my heart a heart to love ! The little birdies warbling soft Are pairing now, and, in light joy, They soar and sing to realms aloft : My heart is sighing, dying, praying ; Burning love meets no allaying — Oh, give my heart a heart to love ! Oh, give my heart a heart to love ! Appease the hunger of its hope ; Oh, quench its thirstings of desire ! Bid, bid its vitals cease to mope : The doves are billing, loving, cooing ; All hearts save mine are w ig, wooing- Oh, give my heart a heart to love I Oh, give my heart a heart to love ! In love the daisies, violets peep ; The sun is weeping tears of love. And loosed by love the runnels leap : All nature, love is sanctifying ; Must my poor heart go aching, sighing ? Oh, give my heart a heart to love ! A STUDENT'S DEATH. 1% \t ' Dead, in the flower of youthful life I Dead, ray friend, in the morning dew I Dead to earthly sense and sight — Dead, my fellow-struggler true ! " Only a student," the rich man says, And a heedless world stands by ; A STUDENT S DEATH. 77 While a thousand hearts of the bravest brand Are struggling, loath to die '. The brain keeps burning, burning out, In the furnace of its thought ; And the shadowing wings of darkness broods On each jewel of truth begot. The heart keeps beating, throbbing loud, For a heart's response, in vain ; Till, low and dead, its pulses still, In the ruthless grasp of pain. Oh, hard ! oh, hard is the student's life ! To barter for morsels of truth. The hopes of joy, and the light of life, And the glorious bloom of youth ! Suffering, sorrowing, battling, praying. Dying for love and for light ; Grinding, worrying, stifling the heart, Dying in reaching for right ! Thy earthly task is recited, my friend. Thy Master is satisfied : Enjoy the bliss of the blest, dear friend. The rest of the sanctified ! Dear friend, thy seekings for truth are o'er, For the Truth now stands revealed — The Truth which the soil and tlie lust of earth From thy eager eye concealed. Dear friend, thy gropings for light are o'er. For the Light of eternal day Now leads thy soul through the gates of heav'n, With its hol^, incarnate ray. 78 BOYHOOD HOURS. Thy strug^lings for life are o'er, dear friend, The secret pang, hope's tear ; For thou art enshrined in immortal life, Free from regret and fear. - Oh, spirit of him who toiled so hard For the student's lofty goal ! : Send out a beam of thy truth and light To illumine the student's soul ! < That he may not wreck on the hidden rocks, On the quicksands of despair, While the homes and the hearts are closed and deaf To the cry of the student's prayer ! Over the sleep of th;'- youthful heart t A blossom of fame shall grow ; 'v-*«i^** "- Over thy grave shall a brother soul Water it with his woe. :. '^- 7^4; Onward I press for the distant prize S '/; Which thou hast won so young;*^'^-{^ ^- ' Upward I move for the golden crown -f' Which glory has over thee flung. - " , TO A LADY WEEPING. ■-,.1.11 Fair lady, rise ; f:"" :; Nor let the briny, scalding tear Course its red channel on those features Give love no sacrifice. dear, Dost see yon velvet cloud Bathing its dark, airy tresses In liquid glory, in bright heaven's caresses. Robed with a sapphire shroud ? THE sailor's grave. See, in the blue, blue heaven, It glides voluptuously alonp^, Revelling in joy — its sweetly silent song Discoursing — to angels given. 'Tis silent now and airy, Now like a blood-red banner — now Kingly purple — azure — gold — its brow And form change as a fairy ! O dear one, that is love How lofty ! heavenly ! but how fleeting ! That cloud thy theme is now repeating. Yon is the poet's turtle dove. See, now how da .-k It grows, as night had plumed her sable wing, And veiled the secrets of the starry ring, How it dissolves, hark ! Ah ! the gloomy rain ! The cloud was love — these are love's teal's. The fruit of joys, of hopes, of sighs and feai"s. O love is pain ! 79 THE SAILOR'S GRAVE. Let the warrior sleep in his martial mail. With his iron-heart untrammelled ; Let him sleep on the hill where the hero fell, With the light of fame enamelled ; But lay me to rest where the billows toil, Where the waves, in dark devotion. Roll up in their glorious, furious strength, From the breast of the briny ocean ! 80 BOYHOOD HOURS. Ho ! ho ! let the sea, in its frantic glee, Break my sleep, in its wild commotion ! Let the pilgrim sleep on the foreign shore, That his friends may dream in sorrow, That their loved one comes from the golden clime, To illumine their dark to-morrow ; But let my slumbers broken be --.il-^j ; • By the groans of the -dying billow; Let me sleep in the shroud of the azure wave, And the white sea-sand my pillow — Where the murmurs low of the wavelet's throe Make vocal the soughing willow ! e Rr^vr < 'Twas there that my heart, in boyish dreams, Sent ships to the isles of glory ; 'Twas there that my daring manhood stemmed The pride of the mountains hoary ; 'Tis there that she sleeps, my heart of hearts, In the sleep that knows no breaking, v i With a blue-e3'^ed babe on her throbless breast. Love, in death, still unforsaking ! Ho ! ho ! let me lie where the billows cry, • In the sleep that knows no waking ! :i-i • * ■ " ■ ■';[' .-v ..;>/. ■--.: i HECTOR AND ALICE. 81 <:i^ A r HECTOR AND ALICE. {A Story of Queenston.) f"// . Autumn had rolled his chariot o'er the earth, With flaming sceptre searing nature's breast, Till, in slow death of hopeless combat, she Resigned her blooming children to despair ; And ever, as the war-prince mar /balled on, • " His path was strewn with laurels of their pride,!^ Now, the crisp tcys of air. * Twas afternoon ; The sweetly halcyon sky stooped down to weep ; The earth was tranquil as a child's repose ; ^^r The forest, like a queen, with crownless brow, Stood in the mingled splendor of her state, And veiled her bosom's palpitating throes, Beneath a sombre tracery of boughs, In fulgent majesty, the sun, on earth. Wept down his copious tears of liquid gold ; The river, wandering waveless, murmured on, ■ ' Its foam the dance of red and yellow leaves, v ,< But, round the borders of our land beloved, Closed dark th' eclipsing wings of tyranny ; And, as a cloud that swamps the morning star, Menaced the freedom of our embryo life ; Till, true to each proud mem'ry of the past, Each glowing impulse of the loyal heart. Beating indignant the full swell of life, She, like Achilles incensed, took the field. And let the tempest of ingenuous wrath Burst the vile chains that would enthral the free. * di,:'.' •Jl :WOi. While thus, convulsively, war's fiery tide - . Surged in huge billows in our country's breast, 1" 82 BOYHOOD HOURS. ^\ li [ Ui' ftl I A tall, lithe maiden stood upon the shore Of Erie's silent deep. Down her fine form, Flowed silken elegance of jetty hair Waving around her snowy brow, as play The azure ripples of the stranded wave i; Along the margin of the white sea sand. ■■■' i Full of the eloquence of love, her eyes ■ r. Were like the splendor of the darkest night. With pensive Luna reigning in mid-dome. Upon the lilied tablets of her cheek, Flourished the rosy pink of virtuous youth. Silent she stood, with all the slumberous depth Of the still sea, reflected in her face ; /iff -. ^ As if, a sprite from deep, green -pillared cell, Her over-?urious soul had lured away; i .i> While, she, unconscious, waited its return. Pain, mingled with the wistf ulness of hope. Grief, gazing at high -barriered bliss, were there ; There, love, in holy adoration wrapt In voiceless language, symbolized her trust. ■ With sudden joy, the lips awoke, "Hector!'' With light, ecstatic, fawn-like bound, she clasp'd His neck, and pressed his heart to hers ; . Then her impulsive power relaxing, she Gazed in glad wonderment into his eyes, • Exclaiming, " Dauntless Hector hast thou come ! " He spoke no answer ; but, with saddest smile, Held her before admiring, till, she, grown In fear, distrustful of her sight, said, " speak, My darling ! for my thirsty heart now craves The mantling potions of thy love. Last night I dreamt, that, having left that land, Hector, That would oppress us now, thou stood'st, my king, Before me thus ; but ere I could cmbmce Thee, thou had'st fled, leaving me dreani-betray'd. HECTOR AND ALICE. 83 And, wandering aimlessly unto this beach I stood and pictured thee upon the wave ; And asked my heart, oh ! will thy hero come ? Oh ! shall I be his bride on Christmas Day ? , Whereat my blood came pulsing from its fount = ? , i Anew, whilst I could feel the hectic toil « That made my bj-ain reel hot. But forward then, . As Neptune conjured from the sleeping deep, To chide my bosom's terrors hast thou come .»*> ; a>-j Oh ! speak sad-love 1 " ■^^«-> 'i-sti -mastaum ^-iiin -r:^ .? A, ..»».. *y He, disengaging, stood ? ^. < A moment in the consciousness of strength ; u n > ; Then, with the bravery of love, pressed back *; ./ Unto his hungry heart, his promised bride; U; And, radiant in her raptured light, replied : — * ;r> . " Alice, far from that stranger land I've come, Remindful of that double-loyal pledge maj u! . . .< That links my heart to thine, likewise .-j :: .^ . My strength and honor to my native land ; But, darling, this is not the hour for words, ;• Suffice it now that Hector loves, and true To every bond of love that holds us one ; ; j » .^ But it doth pierce me, for thy sake, to think ; . ., What dangers fill our land ! " i <'iu i.>i^ii»vt> uui j.tkkr .,^i^,»/ fti:vi 'J She sprang away, And, kneeling on the sands, clasp'd her white hands, Expressing piteously, " Oh ! Hector, go Not to the war, lest my poor (Iream be true In joy and grief" " Alice," he said, " arise Behold, while we in converse join, the sky Has called her myriad sons to battle ! See The sun has wanuored into darkness dead ! Lo ! from tlie stilly bosom of the deep Uprcar the blaek-brow'd giants trooping forth ! Dark are these heralds, oh, my love, but true. :i ;,, a Thus would th' aggressor, destitute of cause, i> >, ;''r r 1 1 : ! J ' 1 i i '} 1 ', h J: ■ 1 84 BOYHOOD HOURS. Roll the black shroud of ignominious death ^ .; ;; The hurricane of death around our homes. : - But, as that rock, shall we repel their wrath, And send them shattered to their native depths. No foe's invading foot shall stamp reproach .,-,•. , Upon the soil our fathers' blood has bought — ; i,- i- No desecrating tyrant shall impose That bondage that our sires have taught to spurn — No sacrilegious scorn shall stain our shrines, Dear homes, inviolable hearts — truth's throne,,, j Till the last spark of fire shall languish dead. Till the last drop of life shall cease to run, ^ In the last heart of Canada's brave sons ; When, vanquished, they shall sleep immortally ! .f.. Arise, my love, and with thy noblest kiss, ,, Speed me to fight. The bugle sounds. Aiise! - The hero of Detroit, the gallant Brock, Is marching to the thunder-Uiroated strait, i^ I follow him, — tumultuous is the night, — ti , « VanRansellaer will cross amid the dark, :« i, j ,. > , Unless we place immediate sentry on. ^r- . ; . , Fear not for me, sweet Alice, I shall live, And Christmas morn shall toll our marriage bells. Pray, bear all bravely, praying for this land, And victory for the arms defending Right." Then, mounting far above each weaker part, She rose composed, and heroic in power, .,h And giving him that blessed boon — a kiss. She said, " God bless thee. Hector, to the field !" Forward in the great form of war, they march ; Steep hill-sides scaling, threading labyrinths Of rugged mounts, thence plunging into dark. Profound ravines, and merging into wild ;:it. .-,:i HECTOR AND ALICE. 85 Entanglements of virulent morass, ''""'• . ^ Through furrow'd fields to ebon night again. From every home kept watch the wakeful film ; No slumber soothed these homes ; for night, By lethal fear, robbed of its balminess, uv. 41 4^ Was ordy blacker day. The watch dog heard ?/ The heavy thunder of the soldiers' march And, through the gloom, sent his portentous howl. Its dread alarm the fearful night-bird screamed. Foremost, in this herculean march of fate. Was Hector. He knew well the pathless woods, And where dark stream took birth, or precipice Yawned deep. He, as a pilot leading on - His fleet, cheered from disaster with his skill. Till, as the midnight moon, involved in clouds, In thirteenth passage through October skies, Had climbed the arch to its meridian throne, * The guardian champions of a loyal land * j Stood for the fight before the toilintj wave ! All night, as Hector sentried on the beach, ' Dark fioods lashed the invulnerable rock, Their foaming rage retreating with a wail ; Whilst, overhead, Vulcan's great sword of Hame Cleft the deep gloom with sudden sweep ; till low And moaning in the distance, burst the peal * Of rolling thunder on the trembling earth. Now, intermittent with the clashing groans * Of elemental ire, could Hector feel The blood of his strong, princely youth rush full And fitful, as retiring wave forsook, ' Witii weird remorse, the high embattled coast, That seemed the muttered undertone of war To herald foe from o'er the boiling gorge. Then he would firmly grapple sword and halt, Peering intently o'er the ebon fiood. Composed again, he thought his country's weal, 5/- ■.;':f-4_ ',t^ ;'•*.:; I ¥'■ '-S ■■ T .1 f T J ■ f! 1 i i :. ■./. ,1! 86 BOYHOOD HOURS. And Alice Bond, weening he ever heard Her say, " God bless thee, Hector, to the fight . »» t " Aurora, pale and wakeful, from her couch. Beheld the foe creep like a stealthy snake, From the bleak rocks, and slide into the stream. "To arms !" cried Hector ; and, the bivouac)'"*''f^i * Eoused from brief slumber, marshalled in array, The martial music ardently appealed ; ,;'si True loyalty beat high in every breast; M' Down poured the volley on th' invading souls. Till as dry leaves in the tornado's whirl. Shivered, they drove headlong before the storm ! Up rose the free-born victor-shout. But lo ! On yonder hill rearward, our sullen guns Lost in a darkly surging mass — the foe I j^J: Raising his brow towards heaven. Brock exclaimed, y" Our guns are captured ! Follow me, Brave Boys And charged against the hill. That was the hour When heroes proved their valoi", loyalty ; That was the hour when Glory crowned our sons ! Be proud of them. Young Canada ! For thee *■ ^ They fought, for thee they died, they won for thee ! They sleep ! they sleep ! Young Canada ! and, though ]No earthly honor marks their graves, there, Love, Truth, Worth, Faith, Victory and Gratitude Of a young nation's hopes and joys are sot I The brightest page hy Glory chronicled Upon the i-ecords of our rising fame v lU . ' Is his, who quenched the golden star of life, And sank immortal in a hero's grave ! Our hero. Hector, all that day of blood. While up that hill, invincible as L>eath, Our valiant scicns charged th'unwavering rock Of fortitude above, while Queenstou heard A thunder louder than th' incessant roar . ' :\ I • I J 1 i* Hi, HECTOR AND AMCE. 8r7 That guards her portals, stem unconquerably, Amongst the brave, moved Titan-like and first In the forefront, amidst the sleet of fate. .' *Twas not, till Sheatfe, outgeneralling the foe, At bayonet's point, drove left to right, and wheeled His desperate legions up against the mass. And headlong hurled it o'er the precipice, ii , That Hector, wounded sore in head and heart ti!"! t Despising pain, in grim reluctanv;e, fell. > M,r .v; But ere his senses ventured Lethe's tide, i {•.;:jv'^ One quick exultant rally back to life hsi '■ They made, as upward to the welkin, rang ►, The proud, impulsive pa.'an of the free ! Unconscious as the dead, among the dead ' r He lay. The gatherers of the wounded said, " He sleeps,*' and left him lying with the dead ; Until a tearful mother, daring near, i?? ^ Low weeping in her sympathy of grief, tv a, Hearing the faintest echo of a sigh, In Hector's breast, found yet a spark alive. She was a widow, and her darling son Had perished in the darling cause of right ; And nursing Hector's feeble vital-lamp, ■ r And watching every flicker of its flame, And dressing daily his slow -healing wounds. And whispering sweet in his unconscious ear, She learned to love him as her own ; and poured Above him many a faithful prayer, or sang Some lowly whispering hymn fraught with the past, Till Love and Sorrow, Pity and Regret, ;'^' Would crowd her mind, and speak in tears. :mi'^;. .(Jl'-^' ■iityi r,vj .-}.•■'-., ..„/- Ten times, the monarch of tfie day had troop'd His golden warriors o'er the azure hill. And Alice stood again upon the beach. The sand was smooth and hard, the pebbles white, 88 BOYHOOD HOURS. Crisp, crinkling leaves played gambols with her feet. She mused impatient ; and, dishevelled some. Her raven hair hung loose, Her lustrous eye Had dimmed its brilliancy ; while, from her cheek. Had paled the rosy pink of bloomy youth. While pensive thus she mused, a tall, dark youth, Emerging, strode from out the dreaming woods, With warm familiar smile saluting her : — ■ ' " My own adored, my loved one, Alice Bond ! Here, on this mossy trunk, where autumn hath Placed his soft footstep, sweet with nature's balm. Rest at my side, and hear love's plaintive voice. I've longed to meet thee ; I have longed To breath a word, a precious word." " Oh, Roger, be not harsh ! call me not names That, coming from thy lips, unholy sound, — Names that one human soul alone may call — Names that God's ano:els witness once for each ! I'll sit beside thee, Roger, ni}" good friend. My true, old friend, my friend, only my friend: In daring further, you will favor less. Yes ! Roger, sit, and give my aching heart Some old forgotten tale to wake its throb ; For oh ! the biting pain of prescient dread That clouds the vision of my ardent hope, And clips of holy faith its heaven-plumed wings, To nothingness keeps pressing in my life ! The happy leaves have fallen from the trees, And, from mj^ heart, has died the blossom-hue ; The birds are weeping valedictory songs ; My soul's last melodies are echoing. In farewell smile, the year is blushing now j . And I am dying, dying in my love." HKCTOIt AND ALICE. 80 "Be not so fearful. Life o'erteems with love. Hope shines co-eval with the human heart. They sear a little in the autumn frost, But spring to them perennial bloom revives. The heart a weak thing seems ; what might}' loads It shoulders. Though the weakest instrument In love, it is the sturdiest in life. What though the lily's softly parted lips Receives no more Eolus' sensuous kiss ! What though not now, among the bright green grass, The violets peep with starry, purpled eye ! What though entrancing spells tlie forest hold ! Who cares to know how silly songsters pipe ? • , > If nature sleep, we'll have a gala day ; = So, cheer up ! love give ear : — 'Is not my heaio More worth to thee, than elements of earth ? .^ Be mine dear Alice ! from the radiant morn, '- As constant as the sun in his long course, Till stars shall light the day into repose, For thee, my hands shall toil nor ever tire. Of nothing but thy weal my brain shall think ; My heart— -oh take it — it shall rear aloft. For thy abode, a temple golden- walled. Its windows shall be diamonds pinken, blue. With their pellucid water for the panes. So that no light save that of innocence . < Shall touch thy orb. The guardian emerald, ,j „.^ That doth contemn all hate, shall be the door, * ^ That Truth and Trust alone be our great guest?. Of blessed pearl the cornices shall form ; The floor of agate patines shall be paved, , That in imperishable peace we walk, V V , I ' The bloodless sapphire, ruby violet, ,,^ The soul-composing amethyst, shall shine ! v ■ Corruscent, on the orient-pinioned roof In graceful majesty, shall stand the clean ^. . . ~ Corinthian columns of jaspidean sheen, P\ A 90 BOYHOOD HOURS. ' in With chapiters of peerless chrysolite ; While music's zephyi-s shall aroma steal From, every blossom of immortal love, Softly instilling in thy dream of life, Elysian fragrance, love-diffused ! My dear, May I not call thee mine ? My Alice Bond ? " "Oh Roger, friend, forbear ! My heart — My hear* Is breaking ! Roger, well I know thy wealth ; For California has. to thee, unlocked Her golden -cinctured treasury. But oh ! In earthly deeps, there is not wealth enough, The issues of one heart to counterweigh, The heart fastidious is in choice of fare ; Its appetite can relish nought but love. Go, Roger, to some maid of high estate ; For thou art worthy of earth's truest heart ; Woo her ; bow down, and at her dainty feet. Kindle, upon the crystal shrine of love, The gilded sacrifice of opulence. Discourse to me to-day, old times and ways; Of faithful friends departed, dead, relate, Of days of innocence and mirth gone by, Of thy wild wand'rings in the dreary west, Of those, who, in the quest of gold, met death ; Or let our converse touch this present war, — Haply e'en now our valiant hearts go down, I'm much amazed that in this hour of peril, Thy might and chivalry should linger here, — Speak at thy will, but do not ask my heart It is too feverish for pensive toil ! " " With best relief to thy great wonderment, Revealment of all causes I shall make. That I am here despite ray country's need, Speaks not, dear Alice, lack of loyalty. But here I stand to battle for myself, ' HECTOR AND ALICE. 91 That better I may soldier for my land. Against the castle of thy heart, I hold " ' My siege. That won, I'm emperor of fate. Pray one brief word forgive, Alice divine, — My wealth alone I proffer not; my heart Is postured first. If dubious shadows rise, As to the sterling of tdlegiance vow'd, Bid me leap into everlasting sleep, : • Beneath the fathoms of those billows blue ; I shall ! This passion is no moment's bloom ; Together we were school'd ; thou knowest me ; Knowest thou dishonor, wantonness, deceit, Attainting tlie fair record of my life ? From childhood, ere the wayward heart could read The language of its own wild song, I loved ; And with the manhood of my strength and form, To sovereign perfectness my love attained.' Say that thou lovest, — give me th}- white hand, — And I shall tell thee tales of quaint romance, And sing thee songs of lovely melody, Until the red-pavillioned monarch. Day, His quenchless overflowing glory-orb Has to a dead cold cinder languished ! That stuff, termed wealth, deem not an obstacle. I've seen the sun shine in a hundred lands ; A hundred tongues observed the soul discourse ; In all, I find life is one changeless theme. The soul is ever groping for the light, ' Downward to slide the man is ever prone ; Ever some hope-star lights the clouded eye ; ' While, through the wiles environing the life, The glorious prince, called mind, — God's self In lesser measure manifest in man. To victory is ever triumphing. • ' Around the planet, life is life, no more ; — A common medley- of various parts ; - Aims, purposes, remorses, hopings, griefs, i-: SP %^ A/. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I J50 IIM III 2.5 ilM |||||Z2 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 1^" _ ^ V2 ^ /}. o c-l o A CM / % Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN $T»EIT WEBSTER, N.Y. 145 10 (716) 873-4503 c^- r- ff .• i I I ■ u M! 92 BOYHOOD HOURS. J )ys, sins, regrets, ambitions, strugglings, — A time-long wrestle for autocracy, Among a thousand riotous, old heirs ! Among my gleanings, I've red-lettered this, That, when the heart is dolorous, no power, Nor pageantry ; no dignity, nor wealth ; Can minister. The heart, alone, can cure The heart. Solon's was true philosophy ; Lydia's King was poor. The happiest men, The men who daily live to toil, to toil That they may live. For them, to love is life. E'en here, among conflicting elements, x :> There is a smile, that lucre cannot claim, A touch of hands, too sanctified for wealth, A loyal kiss, so wrapt in purity, That angels, on soft wings, to heav'n bear it, A love-formed tear, God's sacrifice to man. Oh, Alice ! think not of my wealth. Be mine I'll lay it all, at pleasure of thy will, .a ;>» Bless thou the poor, and make me almoner ; Or build a hospital, where I may dwell ; ,.., For, in disdaining my regards, thou shalt, A deeper fall than Vulcan's was, give me My bellows other far than his may be I shall be crippled hopelessly I ah me ! " / , I A "'>l.v' I ,'-:vft. m "As fair, Roger, art thou, unto my eye, As noble, gentle, true as any man ; And lest that truth indwelling thee so strong, Should mispronounce my sad, sad constancy, Deeming me fortified in rude disdain. Because I hold thee as a gentle friend, True to thyself, and therefore to all true. I'll tell thee Roger why I cannot love ; And yet, I may not, for this prescient lieart, So full of wailing and far requiem bells, At any breath may close its rosy gates. HECTOR AND ALICE. 93 Had'st thou been long returned, good Roger Lan*. Thou had'st become familiar with this theme. I need not quest thee, Roger, dost thou know Our mutual, old school-fellow. Hector Wade ; For many a dewy, summer morn, I've sat Watching you both, in your Olympic sport, — God bless his valor on the field of war, To day he may have sterner games to play ! — I need not more relate, — my heart is his ; Nor if I could, would I recall it now." r ,i»; 'v/nt. •' ? i VivU " I hold it, Alice Bond, most hazardous To life and piety, to thus embody all Your love and hope, in one uncertain man." - " Say not, ' uncertain,' Roger, would'st thou yet Enjoy the friendship lately pledged in trust ; Though errantly the stars through space should swim, Apollo cease to ride his golden car, "^'^ '* The wing'd evangelists forget to bear, Of High Omnipotence the heraldings. In Hector Wade, my trust should stay unsoiled ! " "My lovely Alice, pardon I beseech! ' • • '' - Nor think, that for a thousand worlds, would I, Across his spotless name, cast one small shade : I spoke not of uncertainty of heart, '• But accident. Full well, Alice, you know. We all are toys upon the tide of fate. May Hector, valorous, invincible, ' ' Not sink beneath the thunder-stone of war ? ' Where then could all thy faith and love divine Find anchor on the shoreless ocean-M^orld ? " v ' "There is one harbor still for statelv crafts, Whose gates are wide and open as the world ; — The gate is Death ; the harbor is the grave ; 2Vi6?'e would I moor my melancholy life ! " *Ft^ ' ' ' II 1' 1 ' s ' ^ i !• ' ': i ■■ j . 1 i '1 i ' ■ f ' ■ hm '^ !. i 1 ■ ' - ;i I I r ( 04 BOYHOOD HOtTRS. " Not mine to disavow sincerity, Or play the cynic with affection's trutli ; For, in such prudency doth candor robe, And in fidelity thero is such worth, That dare not folly, pride, deceit gainsay ; Earth, notwithstanding, hedges every hope With circumstance, condition, dubiousness. Where thus the aimings of desire take flight. Beyond the jurisdicticm of desire, — The finite leaping to the infinite — Why should the life we have be bartered off For that we cannot have, which, if possessed, Tn avarice, itself w^ould dispossess ? Supernal seems the purple arras-vail Of eve ; but, like a banner glory-stain'd, Is rolled away, — we love it not the less ; For morn, with wak'ning kiss, shall dry The clear, cold tears of love-forsaken earth ; And from the mount-tops, breach ing golden light. Warm to a blush the pallid cheek asleep ; So all things die ; and, from their dust, arise Of better things, the embr3'o essences. Hector is worthy of thy love ; therefore Let loyal love be hio empyrean light ; But rein, by the strong hand of will, and hold In circumscription of thy reason fair. The ardency and urgency of love ; So come the bitterest decree of fate Against the cherished languor of thy faith, A margin for the aftermath remains. It is not noblest life that lavishes. On every venture its entire resource. Should Hector Wade, to thee, return no more, Our sympathy shall mingle mutual tears, For sorrow is as valorous as love. Then summon thy reserve of fortitude ; And rally to the rescue of thy life. 't- -~ - HECTOR AND ALICE. 05 I will instal me thy knight-banneret, And wage eternal feud with circunistance" " Go Roger Lang, forbear persistence rude, In harrowing thoughts, that whisper death to me. To me, thy hard philosophy is vain ; I love my Hector ! How could I retain A mite of love, far insufficient all, A thousand hearts had I, instead of one ; And each, a thousand fold, were magnified ; And all love's fountain gates, ajar w^ere thrown ; These, were as little rivers, gambolling To the vast ocean of his love. True love All pain doth sanctify ; to sorrow breathe A balm — departing earth, exultingly It mounts to heaven ! Oh ! Roger Lang, if thou Dost love me, leave me here to solitude ; For though, from the Elysian-lighted realms, An angel whispered to me, ' Hector dies ; ' I could not then thy proffered hand accept." " Be not impulsive in thy votive zeal. My darling Alice. When the thing that seeins, Becomes what is, a new complexion oft Is stamped upon our articles of faith ; And, he, who di'eams to make his weakness strong By resolutions violently sworn, •Finds in the siege his battlements but straw. From out the gloom permit one ray to shine Dear Alice — " " Roger, I shall never yield To be a traitor in the least degree. Some rash distemper of both head and heart Must sway your honor from its sober will, Farewell ! " " Staj , Alice ! I am not myself. But has your mind not ferreted the cause ? Stay, Alice, stay, God bless you, Alice stay ! ■^1^ 96 BOYHOOD HOURS. i' HI r t" i^ Oh, that yoiir love for Hector were less firrn ! "' In daik amaze she stood ; while Roger bent, Wringing his tearful brow ; and brokenly Expressed, " Oh, Alice, I am from the war I » Her parted lips made vain essay to speak ; She trembled once, tlien petrified remained.- Then Roger Lang's dark brow did darker grow ; As under sad compulsion he must speak. "Alice," he said, and ceased to check a sob, " 1 was brave Hector's comrade all through life ; We wei-e twin-brothers in each purpose, act ; And, I was with him to the last, and came To tell you how he died ! " here, Alice gave A light, incredulous, half-sighing laugh. Proceeding, .Roger told her, how they fought ; How daunthiss Hector braved the battle-tide ; And, how hc! wounded fell ; concluding with — His last words were, — * now Roger, we two part ' My country's saved ! I'm wounded to the heart ! Speed on and leave me here ; for, I can die Alone ! your country calls your aid ! Farewell ! But Roger ere I die,' — and from his breast Thy miniature he drew, and blessed and kissed, — ' Oh tell my loving Alice, how I died ; Constant to her, till death ! Roger, farewell ! ' The fight was raging, I, compelled to go ; But, in the twilight silent, wandered back, But could discover not dear Hector there. Nor in the hospital ! Some nameless grave Holds the brave heart in Glory's tranquil sleep ! ' Her vision now, in clouds, became obscured ; Thick gloom, around her half unconscious soul',. Brooded ; Life was a rayless shadow-land ; Her skiflf was drifting, drifting o'er the tide^ With sails set full expectant ; but the shore^ ! I! HECTOR AND ALICE. 97 Receding, mocked the eager prow. Long-, long In anguish, hope, despair, she pulled amain The dim beguiling strand to make, for there Stood Hector, beckoning with siren voice I At length, she struck the marge : Hector had fled ; A new creation laughed at her distress ; Hard, unfamiliar voices greeted her ; Upon her, frowned eyes human, dead to love ; Youth seemed a child, and yet had furrow'd cheek ; Sounds had dark import ; fitful tempests roared ; Young twilight never set in night, or burn'd To day ; action was fraught with mystery. Thus, through the shadowy wood, and up the liill, Red with the life-blood of the trees, she sped, Weaving her plaint, in echoes weird and sad ! Meanwhile, near the dark border-land of death. Unconscious of the busy ebb and flow Of circumstance, lay Hector Wade, unknown. But, even in oblivion's gloomy cell, He had his little world,- a home and love ; For Alice, moving in a golden mist Which half-concealed identity, was there. Thus, slowly convalescent rose his strength ; And Life's blue streams that had been drained dry, Drop after drop, replenished their low wave ; While his faint energies, with growing beat. Rallied around the monarch of their throne. But though his vigor and his vital throb Themselves restored, his mind seemed vacant still. His eye was not magnetic to response, But cold and lightless as a marble mome. Like strong Achilles, from fair Bris^is. By wily Agammemnon's wrath withheld. He pined in dark unutterable woe, — A dream of death that knew no wakening, Changeless, they bore him to that awful tomb I nirr- 1 :! u 1 I ^B BOYHOOD HOURS. Where Reason's ray but flickers, as tlie light Of an undying day shoots in between The metal bars that guard its cheerless night. Wherein, long sleepless nights and days unblest, In blank and sullen vacancy of mind, Upon his soul's epitome he pored, Not breaking with a sigh, dread solitude. Bright Christmas morn ! Refulgent rose the sun ; And, from his glowing brow, diffused to air, And earth in marriage splendor white, The yellow essence of resplendent light. The voice, with mellow sweetness was intoned, As, when two friends, long parted, meet again, Above the lily-pillow'd sleep of death. The eye was full of fascinating love ; ¥^arm, radiant, life-transpiercing light. Poured from the soul, the man immaculate ; The face, with gladness gloriously subdued, Asked for a kiss to warm its sacred shr'ne ; Bursting with joy, that comes from doing good, The heart did flutter up against its cage. Eager to try its lightning wings abroad ; The world set sail beyond the land of toil. For its great school was loose for holiday ; Youth and youth's love were vowing love. And like the rhyme of fancy rang the bells ; Light-hearted children, angels of the earth, Were shouting " Merry Christmas " laughingly ; But, in the home of Richard Bond, where joy . Should set the nuptial torch aflame, was grief! Then rose a feeling, tenderest of earth, The mother, pensive, heavy-hearted, said : — " Dear Richard, let us go and see our child, And try and comfort her poor lonely heart. I'll bring along some Christmas gifts. This pretty ottoman, some Christmas cards, ii HECTOR AND ALICE. 99 And golden ink, that she may write her name ; Likewise the silken, vestal white trousseau, For it may please her ; she may wish it on ! Poor Hector's mother shall accompany ; She longs to see her darling daughter, too." Reclining on a crimson-gilded couch, Tl.ey Alice found, dressing her glossy hair. They spoke to her, suppressing tears with smiles ; And gave her all their pretty Christmas gifts. She sighed, then gave a wild, hysteric laugh, The darkly -purpled, brilliant ottoman She placed herself upon ; and, on the cards. Traced with the lustrous flowing liquid pen ; — " Poor Hector Wade ! On Christmas he will come 1 " Then trilled a simple monody, ending ; — "Yes ! Christmas morn shall toll our marriage bells," Now, as rang out the sweet cathedral belLs, With quick impatience rousing, she enquired, — "What bells are ringing ?" Meeting this response, "The Christmas chimes, my daughter, my fair child." "Oh, haste ! " she cried, " and in my marriage robes Array me ! for my Hector comes to-day ! " "Oh ! my dear child," her mother answered her, "Your gallant Hector fell among the slain ; Nor can he come to wed fair Alice Bond ! He sleeps,— oh ! death to all our hopes, — in death." " Oh, you are strangers ! " Alice made reply ; "You do not know my Hector's daring love ! But get me in my marriage gown, I say ; For Christmas morn shall toll our marriage bells ! " They, to appease her errant fancy-dream, Arrayed her in her beauteous wedding robes ; In golden bands they placed the lily wrists ; On her translucent finger set a ring ; They crowned her bosom with the Persian gem, A gemmy coronet adorned her brow. „ m ^« ;' I 100 BOYHOOD HOURS. 1)-; I < I Irl "Now to tlie bridal altar lead mc foitli ! The bridegroom waits, my king, my lord, for me ! ' Across the threshold, to the long arcade, They led her, like a stately stepping queen. Passing along, they found some doors aj ir, For the humane of heart remembered, this Was Christmas Day ; and Hector's sullen mood Being all innocuous, he was left at will. As, pale and silent, sat he gazing dead Upon his life-sustaining talisman. With weirdly wand' ring eyes, reclaiming light, ' And lips that faltered words unspeakable. A moment, Alice stood at Hector's door, Exclaiming in her new-found ecstacy, "My lord ! my king ! my noble Hector Wade ! " As, at the touch of Auster's balmy breath, The hermit of the frozen rocks, awakes In glad amazment from his half-year's sleep, " To view new beauty throned upon the earth, So Hector, at the thrilling voice of love. Awoke and cast aside his Lethean chains ; His every part was perfect consciousness Again ; the thousand strings in unison. The mind, restored to fallen sovereignty, ' • Sedition had subdued by its ukase ! " ' **My Alice ! " Royal Reason's light returned ; Restored to Love's white brow its queenly crown. Within each other's arms, their lives embraced, And Christmas Day did consecrate them one ! ,.'' ' Ci/ '^■. i CANADIAN HYMN. 101 CANADIAN HYMN. While Freedom's white banner shall reign the ascendant^ While Honor defendeth the cause of the brave, While Love, Truth and Justice, in emblems resplendent, Embattle the empire, and beacon the wave. Go forward, in triumph, strong sons of the forest, Hope's star and the lily of peace on each breast ; Your sea-circled garden embellish with labor ; Glad homes be her valleys, from east to the west ! From where blue Atlanta ariseth in splendor. To where the dark waves of Superior sleep. May Canada boast that her heroes defend her, ' And, nurtured to glory, her vigil stars keep. No parasite weeds round her pillars of glory, )v ■• By brave hearts protected, and braver hearts won ; No traitor's affection shall tarnish the story, That, down the long ages, in glory, shall run 1 But should war's angel unfold his red herald. Command its loud thunder awaken our shore ; Should the warm hearts of our loves be imperilled, Or tyrant dishonor the shrines we adore ; Set round your heart, like a halo of glory, All the dear gems of your country and home ; Gird on the armor of Right, Truth and Honor, Fight, — fight, till, immortal, you conquer your doom ! !f! SONG OF THE CRADLE. Poets have sung of the bed and the bier ; Soldiers exalted the sword and the spear ; Childi'en have worshipped the nurse and the knee ; But none have thought worthy to eulogize me ;— w^ it Hi I pi I , ■ ! II % t- 102 BOYHOOD HOURS.. Rock-a-way, rock -a-a way, all the long day ; Through the dark night I aui rocking away. People may deem me unworthy of fame ; And try to reprove me of folly and shame ; But I've codled them all, as shortly you'll see, No — I never rock'd Adam — but he has rocked me; — Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day ; Through the dark night I am rocking away. Ah ! well I remember, how Eve looked and smiled, As I lulled to reposing her beautiful child; And fondly I reckoned a patron in Cain, But he was bad one, — 1 reckoned in vain ; — Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day ; Through the dark night I am rocking away. Although my first nursling thus brought me disgrace, Pray think not this hard of the whole of my race ; Be not hypercritical ; think of yourself, And thousands far better long laid on the shelf ! — Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day; Through the dark night I am rocking away. I've nursed all the poets, to sweeten their bliss, I've endowed the rude lispers with hug and with kiss, Confiding in hoping that when they'd grow old, My virtues they'd sing and my history be told ; But then, quite forgetting my labor of love, They sang of the star, of the rose and the dove ; Of heroes a^id lovers ; of martyr, and wars; Of silly young maidens ; of Venus and Mars ; — Rock-a-away, rock-a-away all the long day ; Through the dark night, I am rocking away. I'm clear independent of preacher or bard ; My hours they are long, and my pathway is hard. SONQ OF THE CRADLE. 103 I'll chide, when I please ; for they dare not stop me ; I have this consolation, — I'm rocking away ; — Rock-a-away, rock-a-away all the long day ; Through the dark night I'm rocking away. They talk about muses ! The muses are mine ; And, tuck'd in my flannel, they safely recline. Bless me ! in their haughtiness, poets forget I taught them their metre by rocking the beat. Yes ! I've heard them, ere now, singing songs to the child, That I taught to themselves or they ever were styled ; I have heard them applauded as noble and wise. For rhymes, I inspired, ere they opened their eyes ; — Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day ; Through the dark night, I am rocking away. I'm not at all jealous. I wish them all well ; But thus, by compulsion, my scory I'll tell. I've waited too long ; and, I'll wager my flock, That the poet, who writes, shall have plenty to rock ; — Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all tlie lor ^ day ; Through the f\ark night, I am rocking away. I don't wish to flatter ; but I'll tell you the oruth ; I've enjoyed the best company all through my youth, I liave shaken the hand of the wit and the sage ; I've laughed at their humor, and scowled at their rage, The world calls them angels. I can't understand How mankind can idolize such a rude band ! Come with me, to the study, the hall and the bath, And you'll swear they are angels, but angels of wrath ; Rock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day ; Through the dark night, I am rocking away. If I'm not just as innocent as I should be, It is that I've mingled with humanity ; _ i j: mmm^ mmm 104 BOYHOOD HOURS. 11: II I So good folks be kindly. Remember with dread, Your secrets, I know. Do you wish Lhem all spread ? Bock-a-way, rock-a-way all the long day ; Through the dark night, I am rocking away. ii nil in u' i[. f] " GOOD-BYE." {In three parts.) Fortune cold has frowned upon me ; I have tried to act the man ; — Many a day, I've prayed and struggled, Till my youthful cheek is wan : Twas for you, my loved, my darling, That I bore the pang and sigh ; But, my every effort failing, I have come to say, " Good-bye." I am all unworthy of you ; But your loving bade me raise AH my thoughts to noble airaings, All my soul to heavenly praise : In despair, you fonder loved me ; Soothed with kisses every sigh, — Love ! I'm all unworthy of you, — I have come to say " Good-bye." To a distant land I'll wander ; Wander ? No ; thy love shall lead, And thy image shall inspire me, To all nobleness of deed. Dearest ! soul of mv existence, Will you love me still, if I Shall return to claim my treasure ? Kiss me love and say " Gooi' -bye." •' GOOD-BYE." I 105 THE ANSWER. '.%:■ nt'. V !>::i; D Roses bloom in every valley, Still unknown to human eye ; > Dark may be the day and dreary, But the sun shines in the sky : 'Tis the field that tries the soldier ; Life's hard battles make great men, Good-bye, with my love's warm blessin , We shall gladly meet again. He that dares to mount the billow ' Of life's darkly surging sea, — I He that with his fate dare falter, One day holds the golden key r' Thou art worthy of all honor, — Life and love are joy and pain — Thou art worthier now than ever ; s We shall early meet again. I I'll remember thee, as morning Opes the gates of crystal day ; ^''^ I'll remember thee, as evening ^v ' i» Sheds on earth its parting ray ; ■" T will love thee, trust, adore thee ; ',, My heart's king, and prince of men ! God be with thee, — God protect us, — ■ >^ Kiss me, we shall meet again ! , THE MEETING. Two long years of cares and sorrows, Two great cycles wove above. Two great links in our existence, — Have they been the links of love ? 1 have struggled hard and conquered •* For the sun shone in the sky " : H mi I I I 1 1 106 BOYHOOD HOUKS. Do you love me now, my darling, As, when we did kiss Good-bye ? Dark has been the night of sorrow ; Sweeter is the morn of joy. • ; Glorious is the light of Phoebus, When it bursts day's canopy: In the truthfulness of loving, In the constancy of life, In the faithfulness of hoping, - ? I have loved, to be your wife ! He who mounts the golden ladder,— She who weaves the silken thread, — He shall bear her to the summit ; She shall cro\^n his weary head ; If each breast, to breast responsive. Blends two hopes in single faith, u Heaven seals life s loyal union, « In life perfect eiter death. r;ifH » :' ,:.^;,, V .;:7 A SONG. ' ■"' ' . ' ■ ■ ' ■•. '■■■ .^ '■ Whisper soft winds, where my true love lies sleeping ; Softly, breathe softly, upon her sweet brow ; Tell her, her lover his vigil is keeping, Down by the stile, 'neath the whispering bough ; Softly, breathe softly, upon her sweet brow ; W^eave, in her dreams, the glad mem'ry of love ; Break not her slumbers ; oh ! gently blow, Bearing the fragrance of Eden ibo' e. Scatter, bright stars, where my true love lies sleeping, Scatter thy hallowing rays on her breast ; Say her lone lover his vigil is keeping, Down in the bower that her fancy loves best, 'if* ■y m SHE IS SLEEPING. 107 Gently, shine gently, upon her sweet brow ; Breathe in her dreams the blest spirit of love Break not her slumbers ; oh ! gently glow, Bearing the radiance of heaven above. i-i I if *■ n •,%,., ,.:.4!Xi,;4,, *- TO M- In radiant joy, the purple skyt^l ? (k ja . All in the west is deeping; i»?n t «• And dappled clouds, like mottled shrouds, On silent forms, are sleeping ; The fragrance of the evening breeze, On hill and vale is winging ; The drowsy murmurs of the bees In flowery groves are singing, h^^m '> The light, that shines in crimson lines, I love to see it dally ; — I love to see it leap and play On hill and purple valley. But dearer still than golden hill, Or valleys softly darkling. That witching light that trembles bright, From blue eyes sweetly sparkling. "■ *-f.'' SHE IS SLEEPING. Spring is reigning, hearts are happy, Children laughing on the hill. Blue-birds mating in the meadow. Wooing, warbling at their will ; But my sorrow-shrouded bosom Sings no song, admires no blossom : C*.: > \< ii j: I!: 108 • BOYHOOD HOURS. She is sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, Where the yellow willows wave ; She is sleeping, she is sleeping ; ■' Love keeps vigil at her grave. /; ^ - " Nimble feet are sprightly dancing To th' ambrosial-blossomed grove ; ' Joy-lit eyes are sweetly glancing, Lips are kissing lips in love : But my spirits only borrow a. v :, < From their bliss the cup of sorrow : She is sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, Where the yellow willows wave ; -' She is sleeping, she is sleeping ; : Love keeps vigil at her grave. * Joyous join in nature's anthem, ^^ Children, birds and zephyrs low ; Sparkle eyes, j'oung hearts rejoicing Welcome Spring's reviving glow. ' Let not my soul's secret anguish Cause the chords of joy to languish ; She is sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, Where the yellow willows wave ; '• She is sleeping, she is sleeping. Love keeps vigil at her gi-ave. THE TRUANT-PLAYER'S SISTER. Once in my life I taught a school As everybody knoweth, And as this scraggy face of mine Most obviously sheweth ; Well, what I want to tell you is — The fact I know that you want — THE TRUANT-PLAYERS STSTKR. 109 That in my school 1 had a boy, '-^ A most inveterate truant. V - ■,■'7.' '-*^ Now, how it happened I can't toll, ' But yet 'tis true as preaching, This nrchin had a sister fair As Eve, and as beseeching ; And every time the little knave Struck out for a day's twister Afraid to come to school next day, He'd kindly send his sister. She d stand in witching innocence And flatter most discreetly, Until her little speech was done And I was gone completely ; For every time she deigned to smile In beauty that surpasses, Up went my heart in a balloon ^^'- ' Beyond the vain Parnassus. _ She said hei" " ma " had confidence That I was true and noble, But sent her down about that boy To tell me not to trouble. Ha, ha, what cared T anyhow '*>*-^" For him the ragged mister ; I'd have him truant every hour To see hh pretty sister. , ,^^..';?A' Vji m And so I let the truant youth Become a perfect Arab,"' ^-^^ ^ That I might drink the raptured smiles Of his sweet sister-cherub. I guess he thought something was loose About the sharp resister ; The raw-hide and its champion too Were spoony on his sister. I i I fi 110 \ V BOYHOOD HOURS. A'^ When this began to stale, T saicl:^ " My charmincr Miss McCarrol Incorrigible he's become I'll have to use the ferule." I kept the wicked notable ' In an eternal blister, V/*'f ^*^ i ' That I might get a thrashing from • • His wrathful, loving sister. ,. . , • • I made him howl, I made him dance. Dance juber, sing for freedom, The stove-pipe climb, stand on his head, And every time I feed him. - :t; And to appease the immortelle — • t I mean, you know, his sister — ? , I met her vengeance with a smile And then — well — then — I kissed her. -■' t' . • f ■ ^(f... A jolly bachelor I am, As everybody k no weth, ^ ,. And this indenture made this dr*y Both witnesseth and sheweth ; But if I wished to wed — I don't — ■ A trusty, leal assister, I'd take St. Benedict's advice. And wed the truant's sister. LIFE. Step lightly ! for an infant sleeps ; His gambols close In blest repose ; Disturb him not ; he sleeps ! Step lightly ! for the warrior sleeps; The day is done ; ;:>'; INCONSTANCY. The battle won ; Disturb him not ; he sleeps ! Step lightly ! for the aged sleeps ; There is no breath ; He sleeps in death ; Disturb him not ! he sleeps ! Ill •;^ .;,!;^ INCONSTANCY. You say I am untrue, Mary ; You declare I am untrue, You vow I go acourting, Mary, With other girls than you. And so you are annoy 'd Mary ; I perceive you are annoy 'd ; You seem as though my art, Mary, .Had all your bliss destroy 'd. You will not let me see, Mary, The sweet light of your eyes ; You drown my little hope, Mary, With tears, and sobs, and sighs. Do you think T am a fool, Mary, To court but half a maid ; While others all in love, Mary, Are waiting in the shade ! I treat maids, as they will, Mary ; To truth, I'm constant, true ; With flirts I am a flirt, Mary ; To the proud, I'm pride, all through. w 112 BOYHOOD HOURS. ;•! 1 ;! 1 i '■ 1 ! 1 ^ i 1 i ■ I 1 : a ■ i i )' ! ■ 1 ' ¥ I know I'm rather poor, Mary, I'm poor in aught but love ; But my love can be as true, Mary, , As the stars that shine above ! My cheek is wan" and thin, Mary ; ' • And dim is my youthful eye ; My head hangs low ; — Don't weep Mar}' — And my heart prays with a sigh. Young George is lithe and light, Mary, For he burns no midnight oil ; Oh ! happy his lot, indeed, Mary, For he never needs must toil. As you've given him half your heart, Mary, You had better give him it all ; For his head is always high, Mary, He is gay, and young and tall. It is hard to be light, erect, Marj^, — It is hard to keep up the head. When ascending the rough, steep hill, Mary, That the student's foot must tread. When the form is buoyant, trim, Mary, — When the head is light and high, 'Tis because we are going down, Mary, Down the slope to misery. Shake hands. No — no, good-bye ! Mary ! For, I could never bring My lips to the lily hand, Mary, That wears another's ring. And perhaps I may find some heart, Mary, To love me in daj's to come ; — ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. I shall place my heart in hers, Mary, For an everlasting home ! The suns and the rolli'nf^ spheres, Mary, May be sway'd from their destined course ; But my life shall be wound in hers, Mary While God rules the universe ! We have both this precept learnt, Mary, Let us treasure it preciously ; — That constancy of heart, Mary, Is bought with Constancy. IVA ■'if I m ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. Grief's deadly pang has settled in my heart ; ' I move in darkness of a starless night ; My soul, involved in clouds, will not depart From its dull deadness of relentless might. A thousand voiceless sorrow's' mingling tears, My budding hopes in their first impulse drown There, in the sobbing floods of doubts and fears. There, there to perish have joy's nurslings flown. Oh, for a song of woe to last for aye ! Oh, for a flood that ne'er would cease to flow ! Friends and their friendship last but for a day — Falls the sweet flower, and pales its crimson glow ! Oh, Master Death ! deceitful, heartless, cold, Thou universal despot oi the earth ! ^" All times and seasons thou art ever bold, From love and beauty to betray their worth. 'p^ i 1! If 114) Boyhood houbs. A cyctle short, in all life's giddy maze, . The crown may reign upon the royal brow • But, oh, that brow a double homage pays When to thy sceptre all its glories bow ! Few are the blessings human hearts enjoy — Few, when, alas ! their constancy we weigh ; Friendship sincere, that earth cannot destroy, Our highest boast, and life's supreme display. I; » TO AN IDIOT CHILD. God pity thee, my child ! Rough enough, and hard the way Of life's tempestuous, vengeful sea. For soul, for sight, for mind untried. How vain for thee, poor dear. Smile the pearly orbs of heaven ! How vain the bliss of day is given. To make thy better cheer ! God pity thee ! and send The light of glory on thy path ; And guide thy darkened mind from wrath, And save thee in the end ! Oh, reason, power divine ! How sanctified and rapturous is life, . When thou dost lead ! Through hate and strife Thy vigil star dost shine. But, oh, how darkly sad, When contemplation of God's might Can never wake the soul from night. The mind from 'mong the dead ! LOVE AND AtJTUMK. 115 Th' immortal soul of man, God's earthly harp, lends no soft sound Melodiously sweet — no springs abound, Till reason leads the van. A mother's holy hand, With minist'ring love, thine own may press. May chafe those tiny feet, and dress The glossy hair, in silken band, In vain. In vain, fair blank, Is each caress and cheering word To thee, by rapture all unstirred. No smile of childhood, playful prank. Life in the vale of death ! Action without thought — pain destitute of joy ! Nor pleasing griefs, nor fr-sking hopes annoy ! Life without reason — only breath ! i LOVE AND AUTUMN. [fe .if - i Purple, crimson, gold. Foreign fancy- queen. Stands the stately wold Fading from the green. Odors, like the breath Of oriental isle, Slumbering beneath Fruit of summer toil. Naked limbs arise From the grand array ; IIG .;i • i,s 1 ill / BOYHOOD HOUltS. Piercing through tlie skifis, ^■'M In their mean dismay |r ij, • ' Slowly, slowly down, Like a warrior's l)lood, Falls the faded crown, '^ : From the autumn wood. Oh my heart is sad ! riii^H For 'tis autunm there, — All its zephyrs mad, All its forests bare. For the summer sun, He, whose name is love, Has my heart undone, — ^ > vts4 • , Took the wings of dove, a -'utii Death, and sin, and night, Children of despair, Try unequal might For a heart, once fair. If one form would die, t If one image cease . ^ Dwelling in m}'- eye. All my hours were peace. But, in rest or sleep. Whether sad or gay, . ■ . ' They that image keep — j,,.„There he lives for aye ! Tall and slight and fair Graceful, goodly free ; Oh ! my heart ! how dare Bring him back to me I ' f BKWARE. I liavo said, " I liate " Darest thou admire ? Is my earthly fate Wound in thy desire ? Sing a song of woe All the autumn day ; For my lieart's my foe Stealing me away ! 117 1 Ml I BEWARE! * Beware of him, who thinks, because His father is a millionaire. He may infringe on Nature's laws And wave defiance to despair ; For these are fancies light as air ; Beware of him ! Beware ! Beware ! * Beware of those who reckon toil, The symbol of a soiled heart, And hiru who burns " the midnight oil," The votary of deceitful art, — Who say you are but what you wear ; Beware of tliose ! Beware ! Beware : Beware of him, a gilded moth Who floats about in indolence ; Who, willing victim of his sloth. Becomes the slave of whim and sense ; Who knows not how to do and dare, — Beware of him ! Beware ! Beware ! Beware of him who deems success The creature of a time or place ; I .; 118 BOYHOOD HOUHS. Who would not reck it idleness To win the 'phantom of a race — Be crowned with shadows of the fair, Beware of him ! Beware ! Beware ! Who would be sculptor of a grace Yet dead, unchi8elix:a from the block ; Who would not carve it from the maze. And rear it living from the rock — Th' immortal monument of care ; Beware of him ! Beware ! Beware ! Beware of him whose heart but wins To boast a conquest made in vain ; Who counts it not among his sins To break a precious heart in twain. Oh guard thy heart from him with care ; Beware of him ! Beware ! Beware ! i Beware of that insiduous quaff, That burns the mind, that blinds the eye, That makes its fool, a hero laugh Than laughs to see its victim die ; Oh, shun the most the smiling snare ; Beware my friend ! My friend beware ! Beware of her who like a brave Strings triumphs on her chain of gold ; Who deems life long enough to waive A heart on which a heart lays hold — Oh piteous life ! Deluded fair ! — Beware of her ! Beware ! Bewr e ! GENIUS. 119 GENIUS. In half-unconscious, misty youth, He heard the trembling voice cf Truth Speak to his secret soul. And strangely, wildly beat Life s Hood : Mysterious ecstacy of mood Did anger and condole. Within the carnal cage, a bird Its pinions plumed, its warblings stirred, And fluttered towards the goal. In sleep he heard the mystic voice Whose music made his soul rejt)ice. And goiified repose ; It seemed, from the abyss of thought, An under-current, wonder-fraught, That dyingly arose : For purple-sailed the ships of gold, Like the ephemeral kings of old, Eode on the billowy throes. If but the lark's light matin-song. He heard discoursing to the throng. It called to him, " March On " ; While morning, radiant in her tears, Inspiring hope, dispelling fears, Says unto him, " my son " ; And every zephyr's gentle zest Finds echo in his throbbing breast ** There's Honor to be won " ! He heard the imperial myriarch's call With trumpet-blast, his soul api)al, In manhood's mighty hour ; Till jubilant, with heavenly glow, Ho raised his brow of flaming snow, w^ wmtmrn .J ^■ M ! I 120 BOYHOOD HOUllS. Responsive to it.s power : The royal scion marched abroad To do, to dare : Truth's golden rod, His sabre and his dower. He saw purpureal splendor sleep Upon the azure-bosomed deep, And zone the orient sky : Renewed the voice, — the voice of Truth ; Flashed out the glorious flame of youth, Like lightning from his eye ; The hempen tablet glowed, instinct * With beauteous form and living, linked To matchless mystery. Or warmed by Love's Platonic fire, Or roused by Faith's soft thrilling lyre. Or tortured by Despair ; Or, when beneath the caustic wand Of Sorrow's desecrating hand. Or in Remorse's lair ; How rude the hand that struck the chords The truth of Truth, — the soul of words Stamped it the Poet's heir ! When, like soft wreathing clifls of snow, The locks of age o'erhung his brow, * And dimness vailed his eye ; And, as the golden orb of life Sank down within the vale of strife, — Sank slowly down to die ; In lieaven, he heard the voice unsealed — ■ The voice of Genius, — Truth revealed In immortality ! YOUTH, LOVE AND THE GRAVE. 121 YOUTH, LOVE AND THE GRAVE. Pale, marble record of departed love, Forgive my lingering 'neath thy sacred shade ; Till I invoke the cherubim above To warble dirges of my senseless maid ! Here let me linger on this mound of clay, Embossed in green, and odorate with balm ; Here let me meditate, till ebbing day Shall cast her tears upon the holy calm. gentle love ! so pure, so sweet, so young, To break my sorrow shalt thou ne'er return ? And must I leave my every charm unsung To wake the slumbers of thy silent urn ? Then I must muse in sorrow, and alone, O'er every joy we shared, in love and life : No smile will cheer me, and no heart condone My erring portion, in the world's great strife. The eye of affluence, the tongue of scorn. We recked unkind, but never insincere ; Our mutual care to meet »t dewy morn. And part at evening, with a lover's tear 1 How fair the rose-leaves on'thy bosom bloom ! And o'er thy brow, how soft the willows twine ! A tranquil glory hovers o'er thy tomb ; Sweet is its breath, but sweeter far was thine ! The self -same songster, warbles on the spray, Whose mellow notes inspired our love of yore ; Oh, now awake ! illume my weary way ; And cheer me, with the song we loved, once more! I JPT* 122 BOYHOOD HOURS. |! ' O love ! arise ; our woody path is strewn With ga,y, wild flowers in rude confusion sweet ; Oh ! come ; and let us wander forth, alone, And pluck the dai&ies,*for thy bosoin, meet. As the dull shades of dusky, evening fall, I hear afar the hunter's echoinof horn ; In woody dell, I hear the herd-bells call, And Philomel resumes his lay forlorn. '^^ = - Then must young Spring her every charm display, The gladdening vale her every sweet disclose ; And thy poor lover sing his sweetest lay, In vain, to lure thee from thy long repose ! * • Then, be th}'- slumbers, as the sacred dead ! : Peace, joy and love, in holy union rise — v - Immortal glory, o'er thy lowly bed ; Thy soul, redeemed, await me in the skies. : Yet, not alone, shall thy sad lover stray, " Though drops of grief shall tarnish every bliss : For thy blue eye shall light along his way. And thy true bosom eer repose in his. The dark vicissitudes of varying time Oft darken portals eloquent with love : ^ < But, reconciling man, in every clime We hear the mandates of a God above. may such blessed lot be ever mine, — My God to recognize in weal or woe ! may my spirit ev^er dwell with thine, While I shall serve my pilgrimage below ! Blest be thy slumbers, as the sacred dead ! Peace, joy and love, in holy union rise, — ■ TO A- ]L>3 Immortal glory crown thy lowly bed : Thy soul, redeemed, await me in the skies. '^^ TO A- Can I ever forget thee, my darling ? Can memory e'er prove untrue T Shall misery, time or misfortune E'er cease me from thinking of you ? Thou art ever beside me, my darling ; ^ Thy image, all nature proclaims ; In sorrow it brings me enjoymeiit ; vj? In coldness my bosom inflames. % ' See the lights of the evening, my darling, All twinkling in innocent glee ! Then such is thy love to me darling, •' !' That beckons me ever to thee. ■g. May thy blue eyes, in gladness, my darlin, Ever smile 'neath the snow of thy brow ; May the hope that illumines thy bosom, Be constant and bright in its glow. May the rosiest bowers of the morning, The grace of thy motion admire ; May the soft sighing zephyrs of evening, Fresh truth in thy bosom inspire. I will never forget thee, my darling ; Thou happiest gem of the earth ! Though I go,— and departing brings anguish- O, trust me ! returning brings mirth. at I f»^ 124 ' i: f ' ' 1 ' i 1 i i- i ! ' ;' 1 ! j i 1 If ^ I ill ' UOYHOOD HOURS. MORN. The peasant-song has woke the flowery dell ; The eager mart has roused its matin bell ; And, on the cloudy mountain-brow, where night Kis lagging kingdom wheedles from the sight, The cheerful shepherd, dewy as the morn. Fills the blue air with warblings of his horn ; Till voiceless zephyrs woo the rude refrain, And nature joins the universal strain. The red-wing'd pilgrim, sedulously vain, Courts the dew'd rose, and wins her heart again; His buzzing bumble, never in delay, In melancholy, lures the mind away ; Awake, thou sleeper ! it is perfect day. STEMMING THE STREAM. Over the running stream. The engineer stood ; A darling boy, with a violet eye, Serious in his mood. His high brow, soft and white. By raven tendrils clasp'd; One Dutstretched hand was his only wand. The other a willow grasp'd. Trying to stem the stream. His mind was troubled deep Though a very child ; but his fancy smiled At the scheme in its golden keep. Trying to stem the stream. With sands, and straws, and wood, CANADA'S SONS TO THEIR SIRES. His young heart wept, as he saw them swept, Adown in the laughing flood. Trying to stem the stream ; A tear bedew'd his eye, He ventured the wave, and he found a grave Where the wave-washed pebbles lie ! Oh ! what a picture, this. Of man's ambitious soul ; Forgetting all for the siren call Of fame at her laurelled roil ! Trying to stem Fate's stream, With hopes, and tears, and faith. Urging his soul to a shadowy goal He drifts on the tide of death ! 125 CANADA'S SONS TO THEIR SIRES. Toll the bell, and toll it slowly ; let the echoes mournful rise : Sound the dead march of the battle, while the swelling requiem dies ! From the homes so fondly cherished, from the dear ones, fair and bright ; From the scenes and recollections, that have filled them with delight ; Lo! our fathers, martyrs,heroes, daily passing from ourview, From the world of false and fleeting, to the realms of bright and true. From the deep unbroken forest, they have hewn our happy homes ; From tne giants of the forests, they have reared our glit- tering domes. . f^?^ s J j hi- 1 ! 1 1il 126 BOYHOOD HOURS. 11 Still we see the axe uplifted ; still we hear the woodland ring; See the thundering hemlocks falling prostrate to their sturdy king : Still we hear their native chorus ling'ring, dying in the grove ; See the sickles strongly wielded ; see the brawny muscles move. As we ponder to contemplate all their nobleness of soul, Daring courage, pious patience, honest reason and control ; When we think them persevering, sacrificing all for us, Toiling, battling, hoping, praying ; how in gratitude we bless ! How we wonder if we ever shall accomplish deeds so grand, If our loyalty and valor will protect our fathers' land. Noble was their cause and country ; nobly was their cause maintained ; They have bravely fought and conquered ; and immortal glory gained. For, upon broad History's pages, there's no record more sublime, — Art and Science have no patrons worthier on their book of time — Than the genial independence, social joy, and love sin- cere, Strength of courage, faith and reason, that our fathers held so dear ! On the earth, no calling higher, than the hand that holds the plough ; Not the soldier's palm of triumph ; not the poet's laurelled brow. Genius may enroll her children, on the golden scroll of fame ; But the monument of glory. Industry must ever claim. CANADA S SONS TO THEIR HIRES. 127 1 Onward ! onward ! ever onward, speed the cause of honest worth : May the stained hand of labor, honored be, wliile rolls the earth. They have left, with all its grandeur, Caledonia's heathered hills, . .f^^i» . • i- Land of scholars, nurse of poetS; where the shepherd's pibroch thrills. They have left the gentle valleys, flowing hills, and rip* pling streams. That make England's mild expanses earnest of unending dreams. They have left the land of beauty, isle of warmth and wit and worth, Clime of eloquence and passion, home of chivalry and mirth ! I vf 1.1' Chose the music of the forest tor the murmur of the wave ; Left on shore their friends forsaken, dear ones sleeping in the grave ; Chained their beauty and their laughter, in the bondage of their strength ; fi^tW «.:»!'*] n, Fought with hardships, dangers, trials ; conquered all, and won, at length. Where the blue smoke of their shanties curled above the western wood, There the smiling fields and pastures bask in evening's purple flood. They are going, ever going; but their mem'ry, beaming bright, Will reanimate our bosoms, actuating to the right ; We, by honor, shall endeavor, with strong ever-grateful hearts, To be brave in every battle ; in each scene, to take our parts ; I I I 128 BOYHOOD HOURS. For their noble blood is in us, and their patriot spirit high; /..;■' V They have won for us and perished, we shall fight for them, or die. Toll the bell, and toll it slowly ; let its throbbings softly rise : Sweetly, sadly, keep it ringing, at each knell a hero dies ! A LESSON. Silently through boundless space, Moves the mighty train of spheres ; Speeding in the mystic chase ; ;': Rolling cycles to the years. They revolve imperiously, — V' I ■ Yet silently — so silently. Softly down the stilly air Falls the snow-flake, crystalled, white, Robing fields and forests bare In the garments of delight : Then resumes its home on high,- Yet silently — so silently. Silently the orb of day Rises high, anon reclines. Silently, all night's array Holds its vigil as it shines. Time's chariots roll all gloriously, Yet silently — so silently. S.Uently, the power of faith, Hope and constancy and love, Lead across the vale of death, To the throne of light above : w TO AN OLD MAID. God rules the world mysteriously, — Yet silently — so silently. Silently, the human mind, Busy with the busy heart.| Rears of thought a world combined, Culls from chaos, system, ai-t ; Bringing light from mystery, — Yet silently — so silently. 129 TO AN OLD MAID. Alas ! a beautiful lily, Blooming in perfect Spring-day, Caught in November air chilly. Petals all shrivelled and gray. When Beauty's mature. Make harvest-day sure. Alas ! a fancy- winged warbler, Charming with eloquent song, Neglecting to act as the garbler Of Gold from the Brass of the throng ; Lingering late in the woe Of Autumn's unmerciful snow. Oh, would you live wisely fair lady ? Marry, young maiden, when fair ; Beauty, like summer, grows shady, Seared by intemperate air ; Be mindful fair lady of duty ; For swift is the wing of your beauty. mr. I ! til M 130 ^ BOYHOOD HOURS. FOR A LITTLE GIRL'S ALBUM. " Maiden with the meek brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies," May the light, that, lingering there, Shines upon thy features fair, Live within and lead thee on, ft'^-r Upward, upward to the throne, — ^ ' Never leave that happy home. Through the changeful hour-s that come ; Never may its guardian lay Fly on eager wings away. Long, upon thy beauteous brow, lo^^r ..v Live the love that graces now ; .v?, • May youth's holy innocence ^xj*: K Stay, and be thy heart's defence; ;/ Sweetly, may thy rosy lip, '■ ' From the cup of wisdom, sip ; . . . , Lightly may thy bosom bear ,. ,^-ii^-- All its human lot of care ; r^H fj ;rs «>■ Ever may glad Beauty seek {,1 iVf. Refuge on thy lily cheek ; And, when life's bright star shall sink Dead behind the mystic brink, To a glorious paradise, ^ May thy soul in transport rise. i.-f' r?-; ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 131 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Ambitious youth ! Behold yon golden king his vestal cour^*^ Assume, and mount up to his orient thi »nr. Mark, as he mounts, how spreads his lucid plume, His brow becomes a cresset of rich light, * • Diffusing to the far off realms of sky Its wakeful ray, until the vasty dome ; - v Becomes a temple of celestial cheer, — E'en prosy clouds their bordei*s prinking white — Appearing as quaint dowagers dusk-brow d — From isles remote, in coronets of pearl. i - Observe, as sinks his golden trail, at eve, '^^ * , What copious halos deepen on the face - ; * Of fading day, — what thronging galaxy * « Of constellated orbs, lights heaven's arch — •' ' All imitating and diffusing light — Their legacy from the supremer king. >; * > Such is the ebb and flow of mortal power ; ' • ; ' Thus, frequent as that period call'd day ^^** -Vi Revolves its splendors o'er the gladdened earth - ,;. Thou hast an emblem of our lot. So rose Immortal Bryant, panting for the crown ; His boyish zeal, at first, with eager eyes Perusing long-hid lore, from library, Still fountful in its ancient fire ; anon Blushing beneath the punishment of praise, Deserved and honest, from some critic won ; Till, bursting fulgent, like the star of morn. Proclaiming by one noble daring leap. The genius and the valor of his soul. Despising rude restraint from bootless bore. t 1 1 ''''^ 132 BOYHOOD HOURS. Plunging, all fearless, o'er the curling waves Of jealous scorn, of envious critic's pride ; And, recking all unworthy of his thoughts, The red-eyed passions of the madding throng, His mind, thus, he in constancy maintained ; Until, in high meridian majesty. Its warmth and light inestimable shed O'er the wide earth, casting a splendor on --^^ The meanest thing, that such exalteth to fy' The noble dignity of thought ; lending Wisdom, glory, eloquence and joy unto The universal brotherhood of dust ! And, when this spirit, gloriously had i;*; «^ . Reared, from inception quite oblivious, The sovereign passion of his soul ; and won Its lot a consummation so divine ; That it, like Alcyone, might e'ermore, Shine forth and revel in its ecstacy, — Then, — when tho task was throughly beautified, Then, — as effulgent splendor clothed each scene, Then, — sank the sun ; and, as it faded dim, ! didst' thou net behold, how cycles bright Oi faith and love wove in the essence red Of waning life ! O ! didst thou not behold,. While on the altar's sacrificial floor, ^ , The great devoted life was consecrated. What incense filled the air; ascended then To heaven ; and, what a choir seraphic rose, Attuned their notes to sweet harmonious parts. That blended in melodious concord soft ; Until each soul of earth arose ; and pale And languid, with his vigil set atrini, Whispered " farewell 1 " When dies the wit, savant, Philosopher, a meagre school laments The sad decease ; for such are apt to be i ON THE DEATH OP WILLIAM CULLExV BRYANT. IXi Too apathetic to that subtle thread Of faith that holds man obligate to man ; j But, when the poet quits his earthly bower, Wide as the world, the stream of sorrow flows, Nor are such mournings the idle impulse Of pavssing dreams ; but righteous tribute T' exalted worth. The true-born, poet is The nation's noblest gift. His theme unites /'>:.« Mercy, Justice, Peace, Love, ^n.d 'i-cAl, of all, r ;- V . That star that beacons with its gentle film, 4.i The fainting sp'rit to portals bright above. His avocation is the voice of life ; To thoughts divine, his aspiration leads. In every walk, his mind is most supreme ; Most liberal and wise his tenets are ; P His pen the happiest instrument of state. Its sway illumes and dignifies the world ; 'Tis all abounding as the balmy air; It steals invisibly through all our lives, Being present always as essential good. Nor scorns it poverty, nor fawns on wealth, It stems the boastful arrogance of power. By whisp'ring to the rich that they are poor. And pointing to the world imperishable. Lo ! what a world of blest content it brings Unto the lowly poor, whose hope on earth Is weary toil. It leads them by the hand ; In mellow tones breathes, " Blessed are the poor ; " Till every grief becomes a hallowed pang ; The scalding sweat of toil a pi'omise fair Of bliss beyond the grave; r I mis'ry's crust Becomes a bounteous feast v, life-fraught food, And, the hard pillow, softer than the crown Of throned king. It chides the simple soul ; Incites the wise ; speaks wisdom to the young ; And makes the tepid blood of age course on i Ji ' t. 184 BOYHOOD HOtfRS. With manly force, in animated pride ; Till, the old heart steals bravely back to youth, Forgetful of the crown of snow. On each Green isle, hid in the expanse of the sea, It breathes ; in every clime, its sympathy Is felt through seasons in their annual roll ; Makes winter kind ; spring, glad ; and summer, cool ; And autumn, a sweet dream of fading flowers. It gives to thought its mingling light and shade, 'Tis like a glorious, calmly flowing stream, That, with a placid surf and depth unknown. In stately silence, sweeps al'^ng its course, In cortex bright of an e^<^rr. , -pring. 'Midst tranquil bliss its fragrant banks repose. Embosomed in bright solitude, we hear The rustling leaves play with the dallying breeze. There, wild and foreign song-birds, clad in gold, On glittered wing flit through the bower, their throats All quivering to the eloquence of joy. There, we may sit with nature's humble rose ; There, snatch our destiny from every wave ; And, meditating there in splendid peace, We hear naught but instruction's lowly voice ; And see in every dewdrop, on the rose, Tj:j8 image of onmiscient God ! Distinguished attributes, our sisttr-i^* v Is mourning, as embodied in her bard ! What though they rear the epitaphic rock To stand the emblem of a nation's grief, A sorrowing nation's gratitude to bear ! Those signs shall undecipherable grow ; With all their splendor crumble in decay, And those who graved them dee; , as monster Time Shall wheel his headlong chariot i 'er them all, Yet though such rude vicissitudes uprise, The writing of glad memory's hand to mar ; THE SEA BY MOONLIGHT. When, o'er the ashes of depart/cd worth, New geneiutions shall awake to fame, In brave defiance to relentless Time, They shall behold in deathless lustre still. That everlasting monument — his work, — Increasing in its pride and brilliancy ; While flowing soft, to every land and tongue, The treasured name of Bryant shall remain A sacred word, a household gift and charm ! Thus shall the words and thoughts of wise and good Mementos be forever of themselves. And rule with Tune, till he shall be unthroned. 135 THY BROTHER. Slow-paced, and tottering with age, and feeble with dor- cay, His languid eyes are wet and diin, his long loose tresses, gray, He comes the trembling wreck of fate, the palsied child of woe. To ask the homage of your heart, and shelter from the snow. speak to him in kindly deed ; nor send him to another ; Remember; thou thyself art man; remember, he's thy brother ! THE SEA BY MOONLIGHT. The soft waves are dashing and foaming and splashing, Down l)y the beautiful shore ! Now gracefully gliding, their passion subsiding, They sink as the murmurs of yore. The dull shado-ws lending, to green hills ascending, The fleet, veering, magical mood j 130 BOYHOOD HOURS. While dark rocks uprearing, like giants appearing, Arise from the musical flood. The blue, alpine grandeur, arrayed in dark splendor, Just looming afar, wakes the soid ; The sea's broken whispers, the nicht-birds' shrill vespers Give song to the waves as they roll. Now charging, recoiling, in white foam aboiling, Breasting the rocks on the shore, Tlieir deep iry breathing, in white spray-clouds wreathing, Like white maned chargers of war ! O, spirit of the ocean ! how greut thy devotion. To rock in the arms of the doep ; And, far down, to slumber, where green waves encumber The tranquillity of thy sleep ! love ! be not frightful ; the S3ene is delightful ; Music and beauty in ire ! Such wooing and wailing, sucli laughter and railing !' Such minglings of pathos aad fire 1 LOVE'S OFFERING— A FLOWER. Plucked from thy virgin stem, sweet flower, In tender bloom, Dost thou, fair form, not weep ? Forgive the power, Forget thy doom ! For if thou could'st but know the joy Thou bring'st to me : Methinks thy little bosom would ally In ecstacy. Those slender fingers plucking thee in haste, Plucked thee in lo^e love's OFFERING: A FLOWER. 137 And preference ; to sliow, that in her breast, Tliy essence wove. Thou star of hope, thy sweetly fragrant breath, Thy roseate hujj, Remember me of love tliat knows no death,— Love ever true. And in thy spotless, crimson, dewy garb The virtue pure That, when dark grief my feelings did disturb/ Was silent cure. Yes ! bright epitome, for eyer in thy face I see her form, Her virtue, beauty, constancy and grace. Her heart so warm ! Oh ! I shall ne'er forget thee, dearest heart, Thy image bright Shall cheer my wanderings though we're far apart, My pathway- light. For I shall wreathe this emblem on my lyre, As laurel spray ; It shall, to song, arouse my latent fire, To think of thee. Its bloom may wither, and its beauty fade, Its form decay ; Yet I'll preserve it, ever, dearest maid. Thy truth to me. And, when, no more, the poet s falt3ring muse Shall cherished be, — When fate forbids what trembling love would choose, A smile from thee ; J •li I I 138 BOYHOOD HOURS. Th.n> on this sweet memento will I gaze. With dewy eye ; And, in reflection, count the happy days Long, long gone bye ! And dream of youth, by rude experience taught To love in vain. And hope by merit to obtain my lot, 'Gainst lust of gain. , THE SOLDIER BOY. The vestal stars were paling In the pearly glow of morn, When the young and dauntless soldier Was roused by the battle-horn. When, riding his noble charger. To join in the battle-cry. He drew his rein and dismounted To bid his love good-bye. A touch of lips, hands pressing, And a hurried, sad " good-bye," Then the fair young maid stood praying For her valiant soldier-boy. They marched away to glory, To tight for their native land ; In all that host, not a faltering heart. Not a weak or unwilling hand. The thunder of the battle Broke the stillness of the night. When the daiing sons of freedom Charged the legions of the night j THE LOST HOPE. And, brave amongst the bravest, Was our hero. Though so young, His heart was true, his soul was brave. His arm was great and strong. His comrades fell around him, But he paused to shed no tear ; 'Twas his to fight and conquer. So he rushed on with a cheer. They won, and when the battle o'er. They homeward marched again, No braver heart nor sadder brow- Did weep the noble slain. But, when he met the maiden To find her prove untrue, His heart, the bravest of the brave, Beat once, and burst in two ; Thus he, dying, said : — " My comrades I fight for victoiy — I march away to glory, • y^* <" I conquer or T die." 189 THE LOST HOPE. Beloved thou art gone ! My eyes have ceased Their sorrowing ; but burns, still deep within My heart and mind the hidden flame of hope That lit, can ne'er — sad truth — be quenched. A hopo Departing is a tardy boat, that leaves You watching on the shore, and bears itself Away ; its path so gentle and direct. You cannot see its motion, and, at times, "i ou deem it nearing ; but alas it aye Recedes away, away, away, until ^IM I { i V 1 i'i 1 j i ' 1 ' i Li . 140 BOYHOOD HOURS. It melts into the purple azure of The border-line ; and you are pensive, mute Upon the strand, with tear-moist eye, and in Your heart a yearning, voiceless something sad Whose dull eternal pain you cannot quench ; Nor what, nor why it is, can you define. Is hope a rude misnomer, a deceitful thing. That leads but to destroy, wins to betray ; Or is it but the earthly counterpart Of a sublimer star, that dwells away In some Elysian abode, to which The earthly tries to lead ? Thus must it be : Then, haply, one sad day, the vail shall rend ; Effulgent light shall burst ; the faithful meet ; And hopes long lost on earth, but ne'er forgot. Shall shine resplendent in our crown of peace ! • u THOMAS CAKLYLE. In Memoriam, The sun has set ; but, ling'ring in the sky, Kissing its stainless azured canopy. The purple west is shot with golden lines. While evening in her burnished couch reclines, Her gorgeous children, in her portals, play ; And crimson porters close the gjites of day. The weary world, enchanted by the charms, Across its bosom folds its myriad arms ; And, half-beguiled by the sublime array, The roseate essence, aftennath of day, Forgets the bursting, billowy flood unblest. That, palpitating, swells its aching breast ; THOMAS CARLYLE. 141 Till, unforbidden, from th' abyss of thought, The deep soul-language, mystic, heaven-fraught, Strains, like Prometheus from his cursed chains ; Swells, like the ocean sweeping o'er the plains. Each throbbing echo beats one sacred word ; Attunes the universe one rapturous chord ; Uprising incantations heaven-inspired, — The apotheoses of hearts deep fired, — Beat at the ])early gates of paradise, Bearing the fragrance of a nation's voice. From every clime, where Learning's page unfolds ; Or Truth, o'er Ignorance, her sceptre holds ; Solemn and low, the sorrow-tributes swell, — Great, good Carlyle, the friend of Trutli, farewell ! Thy sun has set. Yet, from thy fettered tomb Truth's radiance dissipates the ebon gloom ; For though thy honor'd ashes sleep in peace, Thy ^ame of genius ever shall increase. From the bright laurel, that thy brow entwines, The splendid effluence of glory shines ; And, from that shrine wheie reverent nations mourn, Breathes the supernal f ulgence of the morn. Fresh from the crystal fountain of thy soul. With ceasel«^ss tide, the streams of wisdom roll ; While love humane, and tenderness combined, Sheds lustre on the grandeur of thy mind. When the dread clouds of ignorance and vice Spread their eclipsing pinions o'er Truth's eyes, How strong thy arm, how sharp thy sword to sniito, And usher in the matchless realms of Light ! In youth's delightful hour, when sweet delay Allures the languid world with transient ray. Untrue to youthful joy, and selfish aim. Thou panted at the golden gate of Tame ; =i^ 14)2 BOYHOOD HOUaS. PM ! 'Hi i : M i;.ii iJif ) li Thou, with the vigil reigning on thy brow, Sought the deep mines, unnumbered fathoms low ; Where, in the dark environments of night, The pearls of Truth lay hidden from all sight, — All save that penetrating glance of thine, That seemed to flash the light of the divine. Here coulds't thou pierce, with heav'n illumined gaze, The secret wonders of the mystic maze, — Here could'st thou snatch, from shadow-loving death, The star of morning and the prophet's breath, — , Thy subtle mind found sweet instruction here. And gracious thoughts a sorrowing world to cheer. At day's meridian, black with sweat and soil, O'er-freighted with the precious fruit of toil, -'^ In conflict weary, yet, in valor strong, * *- » ■' Mighty in right, and spurning every wrong, . l Wise in thy purpose, didst thou hold thy path, -' ' Despite vain critics in affected wrath. Thy faithful labors to conclude w4th day,"" ^'' ' '' The ev'ning found thee, with its parting ray. Sowing thy toil-begotten pearls abroad, *^ - ^ To rise from earth and blossom up to God, Then, when thy long, long day of earth did close, Thrice weary heart, thou laid thee at repose. Sleep ! Sleep ! Thou glorious lion-warrior sleep. Truth, like an angel, shall her vigil keep Above that hallow'd spot, that boasts thy clay. Lighting mankind its doleful debt to pay. The task shall each essay with falt'ring soul — To weave a dirge above the hero's goal ; In the pale marble of the deathless dead, To carve a niche above the glorious head ; To mark whereon the quenchless orb of day, In earth's oblivion, dimmed its beacon ray ; And, sighing, drop a consecrating tear Upon the laurels of th' immortal seer, iJ i THOMAS CAKLYLE. There shall the poet, thinking of thy fame, Strike his dull lyre and wake its sraould'ring flame. There, too, the warrior of the coming age Shall fan the ardor of his righteous rage. To gild the fabric of his fancy's might, The painter there shall snatch the threads of light. Rest worshipp'd ashes ! Rest immortal dead ! Millions are weeping o'er th' insensate head, — Millions, in bounty of thy festal page, 'Midst wondering grief, their tears in truth assuage ! Man of few books and eagle-pinion'd thought, Above all canons by wise critics taught ; Thy great book, Nature ; and thy mind thy rule ; All schools despising ; master of a school ; No stinted numbers, aptly polished phvase. To please the wrong, and half the right to praise, Came from thy soul with half-intentioned might ; Thy soul sat still or took a lofty flight. When, to a cause thy eloquence was given, It was the rolling thunder-car of heaven, By tempest-steeds propell'd, in awful ire. Cleaving the trembling clouds with track of fire. And, like a massive avalanche that slides, With wasting crash down alpine mountain-sides. Thus down on superstitions' cherish'd spot, Swept the strong torrent of thy burning thought, As he of old who smote Mount Hoi-eb's side ; And bade the issues from its fountains glide ; So on thy power the thirsting myriads gazed ; And drank its potions, whilst they stood amazed. As, at the wak'ning touch of fancy's wings. The image, living from the marble springs ; So when thy genius soared in heavenward flight. Truth sprang exultant from the grasp of night ; Love, mantling in protection of thy might. Made no display, but smiled in calm delight. 143 iM ■ III I i 14^ liOYHUOD HOURS. True Philomath ! Thou took not science fair, To place her shining robes on black despair, — Styling an uncreated Science, God. To thee, she beckoned with her golden rod, Enthroned in greatness, to a greater still, Divine in wisdom, and supreme in will, Thy Law, the universe-combining cord. That moves obedient to the regnant word ; Thy art, the emblem of the unseen hand, Stamp'd on the mind, and making nature grand. No kindred mind shall ope thy golden page. But trust and love shall doubt and fear assuage ; Nor search the mystic mirror of thy mind. But God reflected in its depths shall find ! Warm-hearted fr' id to struggling, sutTring youth, Crazed with ins ^)ie lust for Truth. Through all the gxided mockery of lore. Vainly he battles for the looming shore ; Scoin'd by the rude, and to the great unknown, He stems the tide, or sinking, dies alone, How few, the arms that stretch above the wave, Careful the wrecking mariner to save ! But thou, upon the eminence of Fame, And, in immortal light embalmed, thy name, Though Captftin of the jewell'd fleet of state, Could succor those who faltered with their fate ; And chart the bearings with a pilot's hand. Solicitous that Right should reach the land. Thy part of earth s afilictions hadst thou, too, — \Vithout a hope, to toil, long battles through ; Or, if a hope illumed thy starless path. To see it shattered at the shrine of wrath ; To win the help, the love, the faith, the heart, To warm, to praise, to light thy wondrous art ; And, then alas ! ere ev'ning's mellow light Had touch'd that bosom with its essence bright ; Vji THOMAS CARLYLE. To lay the hand of help, the heart of worth, Forever silent in the slumbrous earth, But upward to its source, that soul aspired On angel wings, in robes of love attired ; As though a rose should blow, a star above, To win its votary to holier love, There, wrapt in light resplendent, sanctified, Eternal marriage shall restore thy bride ; There Scotia's bard, the erring child of love, Shall meet and welcome thee to fame above. High Priest of letterdori ! Imperial soul ! Prince of pilosophei^s I Upon the roll Of glory, bright, illr^trious, deathless star, That not the din or eai th may move nor mar ! Above thee, shall a reverend nation's voice Rear the pale record of its soverei