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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmto d des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, 11 est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MCPHERSON'S POEMS. ( i i POEMS, DESCRIPTIVE AND MORAL, BT JOHN IcPHEESON. STYLED BY HtMSELF "HARP OF ACADIA. J) it\ »»f -!,*>, HALIFAX, N. S. PRINTED BY THEOPHILUS CHAMBERLAIN 18G2. ^ / 7 ? '' i^oi J r*' 10 uO 7 // ^ f^ < I INTRODUCTOKY MEMOIE. The literary memorial is, in modern times, a favorite resort against earthly oblivion and forgetf ulness. It is one of the least expensive of the monuments to departed ability or worth, and may be the most popular, enduring, and useful. The statuary or tablet may fix the attention of friendship or curiosity, — the pyramid, looming above the desert sands, may attract the traveller from a distance ; — but marble and granite have but a narrow sphere, a vague and fleeting story, compared with the volume of letter-press. The latter, to some extent, perpetuates the spirit of the departed. It furnishes precept, while it embodies warning or example ; — it lies on many a cot- tage window-sill, — and bears its more ample record to other generations. Subjects deemed appropriate for memoir, ho\vi:ver, are com- paratively few. Generally speaking, only to those who stood somewhat apart in life, — and who in character or achievement, attained or deserved, a conspicuous position, are such remem- brancers usually accorded. A new country has but few memorials of the past of human history,— but few who are distinguished in any of the more select pursuits of life, — and it is apt to be neglectful of interest- ing reeoi*ds, until due materials for them pass beyond reach. Under such circumstances, more than the usual excuse, or demand, exists, for occasionally taking advantage of oppor- II. JNTRODICTORY MKMOI R. tunities, by securing such memories as may tend to usefully distinguish or ornament the social annals. In land.-^ of ancient refinement and renown, the elaborately rich landscape has castle and palace and cathedral, as marks of wealth and pro- gress; — in places emerging from the wilderness state, the cottage and the clearing, beside woodland and lake, are deemed worthy of some respectful attention. So it may be with human story. Above seventeen years ago, the subject of the present memoir, under circumstances of rapidly declining health, looked fondly forward to such a mode of keeping himself and his writings in some remembrance by his countrymen, — and chose the pen for the anticipated work. Since then, amid the vicissitudes of life, the task has been frequently butfetted from the willing hand ; the times were not propitious for publication of the poems, and annoying postponements took place. Hope of achieving the object, however, was cherished, and the idea was occasionally urged on public notice. Opportunity dawns at last ; and the wish of the departed, and of many living friends, has promise of being realized. As the writer of numerous favorite melodies, who lived and died separated from the busy world, intent on maintaining the minstrel's vocation, — as one whose ambition was, to be called the Poet of his native Province, — and whose hopes, eflbrts, achievements, and disappointments, afford lessons, interesting and useful, — McPherson, surely, was Avorthy of such a tribute to his memory, such a fulfilment of his expectations, as this volume supplies. To trace the emotions and exertions of a mind out of the usual order, may be variously desirable, even though the fine machine did not always run wisely, according to the wisdom of this world. The rude details of every-day experience, encount- ered under very untoward circumstances, may, like the bars of the sky-lark's cage, have prevented higher flight and sweeter music, and caused laceration and early subsidence of song and life; — but the snatches of melody should be appreciated, and the pathetic »tory win attention in a leisure hour. INTUODUCTOUY MLMOIU. 111. to usefully of ancient Iscape has li and pro- tlie cottage ned worthy iman story. ;nt memoir, ked Ibndly writin«:;s in he pen for ides of life, lling hand ; poems, and liieving the )ccasionally 5t; and the las promise o lived and taining the ) be called )es, efforts, interesting a tribute ms, as this out of the the fine wisdom of encount- the bars of kd sweeter song and liated, and Much of a country's wealth consists in her better minds. To allow the memory of such to di.>rbed his attention. '' luse he felt and thoufi^ht poetry, and fondly ima- gined that !0 indulging his n\o.st cherished propensity, some reppectablo share of fame and of pecuniary reward, would result. During a visit to Halifax in 184.1, his demeanor was mark- ed by the quiet retiring characteristics previously alluded to. He appeared to lack curiosity and interest concerning matters, generally found attractive by visitors from the country, and to rather shrink within himself, and within some world of his recollection, from the noise and aetivitv of the world about him. But he could" well enjoy the society of persons having literary tastes akin to his own, — and therefore readily, though rather dreamily at times, he made one of an evening circle where literature, as a matter of course, would become a theme. About this time he became acquainted with Sarah Herbert, whose published verses have had a wide Provincial circulation. Miss Herbert, like McPherson, was warmly attached to poetr}-^, and fond of giving literary exercises a moral and religious ten- dency. She evinced hearty admiration for the sweetness of McPherson's lyre, appreciated his unsophisticated character, and could repeat from memory, with much feeling, several of his best lines. One pleasant evening, a small social party, includ- ing the two writers, was assembled. The conversation, as might be expected, turned on poetry, and Miss Herbert recited with clearness, taste, and due emphasis, his stanzas, entitled " Longings for Spring." The company were much pleased with the plaintively picturesque lines ; but the bard himself, on hear- ing his verse so fluently repeated by a sister melodist, was gra- tified and delighted beyond measure, and forgot, for a happy moment, present cares and gloomy prospects. Both writers, and others, then young in years and hope, and who well enjoyed the mental treat of the evening, went ear- ly beyond the " f the dis- nt of the poems, 19 liver, and e for some an name, Fairy, op rocks of >y a rude and wild figures, ee, to the t, in old ked pas- circlets 1 antic that the [apolis — 3ting for figures. to wile away a time that had many sad realities for them, and to leave a memorial of their last wanderings in Ac '*a. The Lily Lake mentioned in the poems, is a picturesque piece of water in the vicinity of which McPherson taught school for two years. It was so named by himself because of the magnifi- cent white lilies which abounded in its creeks and shoals. The scenery, no doubt, was often enjoyed during, — " The teacher's pleasant walk from School," and his quiet figure may have frequently startled the cautiom lOon, from i.Iie sunny surface of the water : " " I long to see yon lako resume Its brcoze-kiss'd azure crest, — And hear the lonely wild-fowl boom, Along its moon-lit breast." A comparative infrequency of vivid description of natural objects, in '' New World " literature, may be accounted for by some local peculiarities. A country like Nova Scotia may have many features of solemn dignified picturesqueness, and beauty, — without presenting the salient points for poetry which " Old World" scenery afl*ord3. The battlemented castle, the ivy- mantled church, — the traditionary hall and grange, — have well-recognized claims on fancy and memory ; — while the primeval forests of the West, the wood-embosomed lake, — the stream which lapses as it wills — brawling along the ravine, as it did when the Indian was the only poet of the Continent — are comparatively without the historic names and legends which impart a pQpuliar charm and a kind of personal identity to landscape. New world scenery, indeed, has fine capabilities even in reference to poetic elements,— but, for due effect, it requires to be treated on principles of rather a new school of descriptive poetry ; — while old country parks, and lawns, and bowers, and hills, are hallowed by what may be called heredi- tary claims, and by ancestral song and picture. r m XXX. INTRODUCTORY ME!kIOTR. PARTICULARS OF THE POEMS. A few observations, relative to some particulars of McPher- son's writings, may tend to iiu'rease their interest. A picture or a poem may have its value enhanced by direct association with the history of tiie painter or the poet. One of his longest poems, was entitled •' The Victim ;" it was a somewhat disguised narrative of his own life. It is not comprised in this collection, in consequence of its over-querulous tone, and the severity of soni''^ of its personal reflections. The verses now presented, evince, in many parts — besides exact appreciation, fine car for melody, and an abiding moral sense — unusual identification with persons and localities familiar to the writer. In the division, entitled ♦' Love of Nature," tlv lines which are named " Walks in the Woods " are a free trar.seript of the poet's feelings during his favorite rambles, rather than any attempt at elaborate description or scene painting. The scenery and associations of his daily life are exquisitely alluded to, in the much admired " Longings for Spring," — and himself is the " teacher," whose " pleasant Avalk from School," so much required more genial airs than those of declining winter. The "Domestic and Social" poems, abound in breathings of his sympathies and experience. To the manuscript of the " Beautiful is Fading," is appended, by his own hand, the re- mark, " Himself dying." What pathos does the piece derive from the circumstance. How ditFerent would the lines appear, as a mere fancy sketch, compared with their character as the expression of sad realities of the time being. The " Personal," relate, almost exclusively, to particular scenes and incidents and associations of the writer's history. The lines entitled " Sunshine and Shade " were composed on the occasion of hia receiving a pecuniary tribute of respect from Halifax friends. The poem, however, to which reference in this place would be more particularly made, is that entitled " Pleadings for Return." IVTRODLTTOUY MEMOIR. The poet's dark and liright moods may be supposed amply illustrated in his verse, — but his most dark may require the passing illustration which the linos just mentioned ullbrd. If a memoir wi're to ho a euloiiv, sm'h rel'erenees miia the skies. 6 MCPHERSON S POFM.: Much hath lie lackeJ — the lonely man Who hath not turned to flowers For solace in the trial-span Of weary, vexed hcurs. Much hath he lacked who hath not strayed In spring time to behold. The Mayflower in the wildwood shade. rr The violet and the gold. !!ii|' The snow-drop sweetly less than tliese. Comes in the same glad time, To woo the first adventurous bees That try Acadia's clime. But, though so small and frail a things It hath a mystic voice. An odorous Eden-scented wing. That bid the world rejoice. Go forth, O man ! at sunny morn, Bright noon or sunset ov«, That flowers may make thee less forlorn And less inclined to grieve. And if the simplest forest gem Can wake no heartfelt tone, I deem thee poor with diadem And proud Imperial throne. ! I' For me — a bard — the love of flowers Is deep within my soul. And blooms in dark despo^iding hours^ ?o make my spirit whole. '^r WALKS IN THE WOODS. It dwells among the thousand things I hoard with miser care, And fans my fevered brow with wings Refreshed in Heaven's own air. What marvel if I prize them, then, And love o'erwell to stray Beside the brooklet in the glen From noon till eve in May ? The bondsman hath his truant hours, I, who am free, have mine. And give them wings where wildwood flowers 3Iake earth a holy shrine. O teach the young — the whole of heart— To nurse the love of flowers, Or cultured by the pride of Art, Or found in forest bowers, — Not for their loveliness alone. Their influence on the air, But for the deep inbreathing tone "\Yith which they soothe our care. WALKS IN THE WOODS. — No. H. I come, ye lovely wild-wood j^roves, Where placid contemplation roves And breathes untroubled air ; I come to woo your genial sweets, To wander in your green retreats, And lose the sense of care. 8 ucpherson'3 poems. I turn to you from human guile That wears the mask of friendship's smile — I turn from human ways, — Because man's dark self-seeking fills His fairest, happiest haunts with ills That should not cloud his days. Unformed i ■) brook the vulgar strife, And heartlerisness of worldly life, I court your silent gloom — Where Thought may nurse, without annoy, The soothing se-^se of native joy — The soul's inherent bloom. Ill'-: ; I Receive me to your fostering arms — Surround me with your varied charms Of birds and streams and flowers ; And bless me with the sweet repose That crowns the simple thoughts of those Who love your leafy bowers. Here, in the ancient forest maze. Remote from Mammon's specious ways, And wandering at my will, Herbs, flowers, and trees, shall be my friends, And birds and streamlets make amends For much of earthly ill. Yet, give me here a kindred tie — Affection's sympathetic eye. And kind consoling tone ; ! I WALKS IN THE WOODS. For though the multitude are cold, And anxious most for sordid gold, I would not live alone. The heart — the heart is human still, And yearns for trusting love to fill Its frequent, aching void ; Unless partaken with our kind. The sweetest joys of sense and mind Are not enough enjoyed. Then will I seek, repose from strife. The tender ministries of life, And Peace, the timid Dove, In one still calm, one dear rel/eat. The circle of my cottage sweet — The home of wedded love. ds, SEQUEL TO^WALKS IN THE WOODS. In yon low|cot far down the dell, My babe andjmy babe's mother dwell Aloof from life's annoy. And I will nurse my minstrel soul, And keep its healthful feelings whole In their calm heaven of Jov. 10 mcpiiebsom's poems. That mother's smile — that infant's voice So make my inmost heart rejoice. So cheer where wealth is not. That I might doff a diadem, Its pride of glittering gold and gem, To share their hmnble lot. Ill,,, But am I not a monarch now ? Behold the crown is on my brow — The crown that love has wrought — " In outward aspect still serene, — And glittering inly with the sheen Of gladdening, golden thought.' »> III 1 1 MORN. " The breezy cull of incense-breathing morn." — Gray. (2.) "What a blessing comes with the quick fresh breeze That wakes with the summer morn, To toy with the leaves of the forest trees, And the poor man's smiling corn. It has soft wings for the youthful cheek Grown pale o'er '* the midnight oil " ; It has whispered hope for the worn and weak. And strength for the nan of toil. MORN'. 11 I remember well in the time of Spring, After months of pain and care, How my heart came back, and my soul took wing, At the touch of the balmy air ! The sun shone bright, and I caught his light, Through a lattice of young leaves near. While the sounds of birds and of flocks and herds, Fell sweet on my charmed ear. I remember, too, that the cheek's pale cast Gave place to the rose's dye. And my limbs grew strong, as in young days past, 'Neath the smile of the Summer sky ; Then, the world looked bright with a new sweet light Which seemed of another sphere, And my mind was fraught with the high-toned thought To the soul of the minstrel dear. le Sweet scenes ! what a world of pleasant sights. And of cheerful sounds are thine ! How formed for supernal calm delights ! How meet for the poor man's shrine ! Glad eyes look up from the violet's cup, Like the gems of an eastern bride ; Gay glances flash where the waters dash And sing on the green hill side. Arise from thy bed of down, Proud Wealth, Arouse from the chamber dim, ^ii 32 [mcpherson's poems. And seek for the rapture of moral health, While the wild birds chant their hymn. Arouse from the mad debauch, weak youth, From degrading wassail roar, And, baring thy brow to the breeze's truth, Eeturn to thy cup no more. Arouse from the pillow moist with tears. Fair maid of the beauteous brow, And scatter the load of thy loving fears To the wings of the soft winds now. Instead of curtained and lonely room. See thy favorite birds and bowers ; May thy pale sad face soon outvie the bloom Of thine own love-tender flowers. TWILIGHT. (8.) When fades the glorious light of day. And twilight's gentle lights descend, From human haunts I love to stray. Alone the tranquil hour to spend. O'er hill and dale, by grove and stream, Or near the sea-beat shore I go— And, gazing on the parting gleam, Becall my hours of joy and woe. EVENINQ. 13 As that last look of daylight dies, So passed the light of youth away, — And Yike the gloom that round me lies Is that which clouds my later day. My earth-born hopes have been in vain, Though long their trembling light was dear ; My transient joys have closed in pain, And love has left mo darkling here. Yet com« there in this holy hour, Deep spells that bid my sorrows cease-— Pure thoughts that heavenly comfort pour. And yield the soothing balm of per "s. The few I loved I see no more — Yet comes there to my soul a voice, Which says, when this dim life is o'(r, The lov'd may all rejoice. EVENING. (*) The task is done, — the sun, who set With glory round hi, i ; oiled, Arrays the far horizon yet With purple and with gold : But twilight fades and starlit eve Brings on the silent hours. That yield their calm and sweet reprieve To life's exhausted powers. 14 MCPHKRSON S POEMS. Now, wearied with the world's cold ways, The rich man seeks his hall, To taste the quiet that repays The ills that come to all ; While, resting from his daily cares, Beneath his cottage-dome, The humblest son of Labour shares The dear delights of home. Now heart goes out to loving heart, And mind to kindred mind. Where'er content and peace impart The smiles that bless our kind. While from the world-enlightening Truth Of Wisdom's various page. Wo gather mental light for youth, And sweet repose for Age. NIGHT. " How beautiful is night ! " — Southey. Earth I thou art beautiful when Night Her mystic mantle o'er thee throws. And in the soft and silvery light The dim and shadowy things repose ! As beautiful as when by day The sun displays his burning ray. KIGIIT. 15 No living thing appears — no sound To break the solemn spell is heard. So deep the silence, so profound, The summer leaves are scarcely stir'd. The calm untroubled prospect seems Like those we sometimes see in dreams. My spirit with the still night hour * Holds sweet communion — and I feel Its star-born, pure, mysterious power Like holy rapture o'er me steal. Though sunk in worldly cares by day, By night she soars from earth away. Day is the glorious — it may be Bright with the sun's empyreal blaze — The heavens from clouds and darkness free ; But Night — the moon's undazzling rays — The stars, the shades, the silence — all Hold the full soul in deeper thrall ! Night is a Spirit ! From her throne To man she wondrous knowledge shows ; She makes what day denies us, known, And pure poetic fire bestows. The Hebrew worshipped in her shrine And felt her influence divine ! Yes,— learn of Night— the Sybil, Night ! Koad well her vast ethereal scroll, 16 MCPHERSON S POEMS. niumined by her orbs of light Around unnumbered worlds may roll I Yes, learn of Night— -her lore sublime May help thee Heaven itself to climb I LONGINGS FOR SPRING. («.) I long for Spring — enchanting Spring, Her sunshine and soft airs, — That bless the fevered brow, and bring Sweet thoughts to soothe her cares. I long for all her dear delights, Her bright green forest bowers ; Her world of cheerful sounds and sights. Her song-birds and her flowers. Even while the brumal king maintains His reign of death and gloom, How much of solid gcud remains To mitigate his doom. Sweet then, to taste the well-earned cheer When day's dull toil is o'er, And sit among'Our Own, and hear, The elemental roar. Then, when the snow, drifts o'er the moor^ And drowns the traveller's cry^ LONGINGS FOR SPRING. 17 The charities of poor to poor Go sweetly up on high ; Then, while the mighty winds accord With Mind's eternal Lyre, Our trembling hearts confess the Lord, Who touched our lips with fire. Yet give me Spring, inspiring Spring, The season of our trust, — That comes like heavenly hope, to bring, New life to slumbering dust ; Restore, from Winter's stormy shocks. The singing of the birds, The bleating of the yeaned flocks, The lowing of the herda. I long to see the grass spring up, — The first green corn appear, — The violet ope its azure cup. And shed its glistening tear. My cheek is wan with stern disease, My soul oppressed with care ; And, anxious for a moment's ease, I sigh for sun and air. I long to see the ice give way. The streams begin to flow ; — And some benignant, vernal day, Disperse the latest snow. IS MCPHERSON S ?OEMS. I long to see yon lake resume Its breeze-kiss'd azure crest, And hear the lonely wild fowl boom Along its moon-lit breast. Oh, I remember one still night, "I'hat bless'd the world of yore, — A fair maid with an eye of light, Was with me on that shore. I look upon the same calm brow, But sweeter feelings throng, — She, wedded, sits beside me now, And smiles upon my song. The Robin has returned again, And rests his wearied wing, But makes no music in the glen, Where he was wont to sing. The Black bird chants no jocund strain ; The tiny wild-wood throng. Still of the searching blast complain But make no joyful song. The ploughman cheering on his team. At morning's golden prime, — The milk-maid singing of her dream, At tranquil evening time, — The shrill frog piping from the pool, — The swallow's twittering cry, — The teacher's pleasant walk from school, Eequire a kinder sky. TOICE OF SPRING, 19 Oh ! month of many smiles and tears, Return with those bright flowers, That come like light, from Astral spheres, To glad Acadia's bowers ! Young children go not forth to play, — Life hath small voice of glee, 'Till thy sweet smiles, oh genial May I Bring back the murmuring bee. VOICE OF SPRING. Joy in the laughing vallies, Joy in the mountain glen- Wherever Nature rallies And springs to life again. Stem Winter's blasts are dying O'er forest, field a. d stream, And balmy winds are sighing Beneath the vernal beam. Bright flowers are gaily springing On meadow, hill and lea, And birds, glad birds are singing Their wild notes full and free. i !, 20 HCPnERSON S POEMS. The waters brightly glowing, From icy fetters freed, With murmur'd strains aro flowing Through many a flow'ry Uieuti. i||WiH III lliiijjii! W' III III I' 111!!''' 'ill. ^plllffilJ. Away with undue sadnejs ;— Let every bosom turn, To sing with Nature's glad r ess A song for Spring's return. Joy ill the laughing valHos, Joy in the mountain glon- Wheiever Nature rallies And springs to life again. SPRING. A HEBKEW MELODT- ** For, Id, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land." — Solomon's Song, Chap, ii. Verse 11, 12. The glance of heaven hath chased the gloom Of Winter's sterner sway ; The mountains smile, the vales resume Glad Nature's green array. SPRING. 2t Sweet sounds of re-awakening mirtlr Borne on the South wind's wing, And bright things bursting into birth Declare the enchantress, Spring. The singing of the little birds, The turtle's melting voice, The bleating flocks, the lowing herds. Bid Judah's sons rejoice. Then, 0, like these, uo longer mute» Awake the tribute dear ; Bring forth the timbrel and the lute. And hail the opening year. Shall we forego the pleasing theme ? Shall we be silent long, When hill and dale and gushing streanj Are jubilant with song? No, Hebrews, be the duty ours To bid glad echoes leap From favored Salem's holy towers To Judah's farthest steep. Rejoice, for these salubrious skies, These tender stems and flowers, Like love's pure light in youthful eyes,. Betoken happy hours. 22 MCPUERSON S POEMS. Rejoice, for e'en the winged air, The green and flowery sward, Are grateful for the smiling care, And kindness of the Lord. 0, let His awful Praise impart Its power to every voice, Great gladness bound from every heart. And every soul rejoice. MAY. 1 love thee, pleasant Month of May, Because thy genial wing Is gladdened by the first bright ray That wakos Acadia's spring. I love thy soft reviving breeze — Thy tender grass — thy budding trees — Thy birds that gaily sing ; But most the sweet yet simple flowers That first illume thy wildwood bowers. These emanations from above That make our earth so fair — These tokens of the tender love That make all-made Its care — MAY. 28 Come oft like soft; wings from the skies To waft us sweet unearthly sighs And purify our air, — To calm the spirit's weary mood, And leave the wayward heart subdued. The school-girl binds them on her brow WitH fond yet artless care ; M: gentle favourite wears them now To deck her silken hair : I love them, for they look like youth, And breathe of innocence and truth, And scenes exceeding fair ; I love them, for they yield a voice That bids my feeble heart rejoice, I love to seek them on the heath At day's most balmy hour, And weave a sweet, a dewv wreath lanthe ! for thy bower ; I feel as pleased and calm and blessed When I have placed upon thy breast The tribute of a flower, As while in childish years we strayed With glad hearts o'er the sunny glade. Sweet Firstlings of Acadia's hope — Ye sometimes meet the blast On some warm southern wood-side slope Among the fallen " mast' ";— (6.) 34 Mcpherson's poems. Why smile ye in a time so drear, If not to tell our hearts-of-fear That Mercy yet will last ? — That light shall shine and beauty bloom Like ye, above, the Mayflower's tomb ! WILD FLOWERS. Though gay exotics reared with care May please a cultured taste, Give me the flowers the vallies bear— The wildlings of the waste. These, nursed in Flora's native bowers— On earth's uncultured sward. Come to this northern land of ours All smiling from the Lord. But one, our Country's Emblem dear. The lovely flower of May, Springs in the wild our hearts to cheer While vernal suns delay ! I love its amaranthine leaf, I love its simple bloom ; It whispers, " HopeP^ — and counsels Grief To look beyond the tomb. THE UATFLOWXB. 2S It breathes of some untroubled scene- Some laiiu divinely fair; Of skies ineflfably serene— Of pure immortal air I THE MAY-FLOWER. "Sweet cbild of many an April sbower, First gift of Spring to Flora's bower, Acadia's own peculiar flower, I hail thee here ! ^Thou com'st, like Hope in sorrow's hour, To whisper cheer. I love to stray with careless feet, Thy balm on morning breeze to meet— Thy earliest opening bloom to greet — To take thy stem, And bear thee to my lady sweet, Thou lovely gem. What though green mosses o'«r thee steal. And half thy lovely form conceal — Though but thy fragrant breath reveal Thy place of birth— Gladly we own thy mute appeal. Of modest worth I 2« 26 M( phkkson's poem?. s Thy charms so pure a spell '< I j lilil (2.) Conccniing rural out-door occupatic , at early Mom, opinions of modern Ilygeists tend to depress the ardour of the poets, by asserting that the air at early hours, is not so salubrious as when the sun's influence has drawn oflf the exhalations of night. (3.) McPherson's personal feelings, and the sadness of incidents of his story, mark his verse, when the theme would not indicate such a tone. 12(4.) The remark, that the themes of the different divisions of tb? volume, appear to blend occasionally, is applicable here. The verses would be almost as suitable for the " Domestic and Social " depart' ment, as for that of " Love of Nature." (5.) This has been a special favorite, with admirers of McPher- pou'fa verse. (C.) A peculiar delicacy of thought and metre, mark these lines, as well as several which follow. (7.) The scene of these verses is alluded to in memoir, under title " Localities." DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL. T Memoir, as lemes of the ;arly Morn, of the poets, iou3 as when It. 1 of incidents ndicate such isions of tb? The verses ial" depart- of McPher- these lines, f, under title The Circles of home and of Society, of the house and the neigh- borhood, will ever have strong claims for the man who is not a cynic or worse ; who has not — from unfortunate circumstances, or moro unfortunate disposition — allowed apathy to wrap him in the cold cerements which cause decay of wholesome energy, and isolation of soul. The circles of heart and ' n« and sphere are substantially those of the man ; beyond, ho worlds of earth and sky are l social form the fitting centre ol i affections ; and, in one sense, of •xtend his sympathies until the but the domestic and the c>;pansion of the earthly \\\ ji--earrhly also. If ye have not charity for your brother whom yc have seen, how can ye bo expected rightly to love the great Being whom wo have not seen ■? Various degrees mark the regions of sympathy : At one extreme is the churlish disposition which enquires, "Am I my brother's keeper" ; at the other, (lie abounding benevolence which "gloried in tribulation" that ministered to the good of others, — and, chief, the wonderful abnegation of Him Who freely " gave his life as a ranson* for many." Well has Charity been called the perfect gift, the bond of unity, the fulfilling of the law. The writer to whose poems these pages are devoted, whatever his personal difficulties and sorrows, seemed never to have divested himself of the social feeling, of the kindly sympathy, which commisseratcs, and condoles, and aids, where aid is practi- cable : " The Charities of poor to poor go sweetly up on high." In the verses which follow, and indeed in each department of this little volume, the domestic and social virtues either copiously predomi- nate, or indirectly appear, giving indication of the genial strata which underline every variety of surface. No doubt, one of the chief con- solations of the Poet was, the hope or belief, that his verse would extensively minister to the amenities which he yearned after j — and assuredly we may have confidence that such result will be among the most abundant effects of the long-desired publication. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /y ^ .^4e. ^ e deeds which these incite. Not few, albeit unrcvoaled. 70 McniEiisoN s rofiMS. THE PILGRIM SLEEPS. (7.) The Pilgrim sleeps — his wearied form Its last long silent rest is taking ; He feels not now the ruthless storm, His heart no more with grief is aching. The Pilgrim sleeps — his deathless soul, So meet for joy, and formed for soaring. Escaped from this dark life's control, Is some more glorious scene exploring. Though he to many a heart was dear. And friendship held her empire o'er him, He seemed a weary wanderer here, And why should such as we deplore him. 111'!' lie dwells in yon bright world of joy, Where sweet unfading flowers are springing, Where love is pure from death's alloy, And blissful souls are sweetly singing ! The Minstrel sleeps. Ills soul has passed From Time's (eventful) shore ; The fettered bird is freed at last Through heavenly liglit to soar ; He feels not fortune's bitter blast, He wakes to pain, no more ! NOTES TO "DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL. (1.) The "Evening Thoughts " of this section, mny be consider- ed by some, at first si^ht, as ranginj; more appro])riately under the designation "Love of Nature;" additional examination, however, may satisfy that the " Domestic and Social " element predominates, and that the verses belong to the division so called. (2.) These lines were entitled "A Melody" by the ^vriter. Their flowing metro and musical cadence give good claim to the designation. (3.) With much appearance of being "personal" these verses have internal evidence of being general, though the emotions were the dictates of experience. How graphically are sad circumstances dwelt on, — relieved by a hope supernal at the close. (4.) The Poet's aptness to l)lcnd moral with personal picture is evinced in these and many other lines of the collection. (5.) One of many evidences of McPhcrson's christian sympathy and charity. Keen sinsitivcness to his own cares was kept well apart from querulous selfishness. Sympathy blended with complaint, and generally raised him far above the reality, or the affectation, of the vice of miSanthro])y. (6.) An unusual expression of sad thoughts, in very musical verse. (7.) An appropriately soothing sequel to the troublous scenes previously alluded to, or described : — " The Pilgrim Sleeps." I is ' 5 I I cor refd reel has and mor and tive P fami their loitei and Hieai have whic Tl Infla mooc grap: Nc whic ings and, son's cliolj suabi PERSONAL. Tub Personal characteristic forms an important part of literary composition, though in some works it is but sparingly introduced, in reference to the writer's identity. Shakespeare alludes only indi- rectly and briefly to himseir and his fiiends. Milton's majestic verse has exquisite, but not copious, i-eferences to the Poet's circumstances and history. Self and its associations, pervade much of Byron's more celebrated poems. Cowper employs the "Personal" freely, and with much pathos and beauty. It forms the basis of the plain- tive philosophy of " Young's Night Thoughts." Painters imbue their works with such ^personality as consists of familiar figures and favorite localities : the portraits of themselves and their acquaintances, pictures of the river banks where they loved to loiter, of the trees which shaded their noontide walk, of the cottages and halls of familiar neighbourhoods. Poets have more ample means and more copious sources of the Personal at command ; and have sometimes been tempted, in this respect, beyond the bounds which prudence would dictate. The Personal tendencies of poets differ in nature as in degree. Inflated adulation, scathing satire, malignant denunciation, mark the mood, with some, about as freely as do true kindly feeling, and loving graphic description. Not mach of the morose of personality will be found in the verses which follow ; but, instead, some melancholy wailings, earnest yearn- ings for sympathy, occasional overshadowing of earthly despair, — and, in happy moments, kindness, gaiety, and cheerfulness. McPher- son's muse, untrained to continued control, luxuriated in the melan- choly, or the joyous, — in accordance with the lowering cloud, or the sunburst, which marked the landscape of life. 4* PERSONAL. ADDRESS TO A. M. G. (Note 11 Dear Sir, in reading your las<^ sheet, I really felt inclined " to greet," It was so tender and so sweet From first to last ; In fact it set me on my feet, Ttough much downcast. It breathes a sympathetic glow Which is not merely specious show ; For you, as I have cause to know, Are quick to feel The influence of another's woe. Another's weal. I nurse a strong desire to see Your face, of late too strange to me. And blend in conversation free Led by your voice ; But, as this pleasure cannot be, I waive my choice. 76 BfCPirERSON S rOEXS, I have a wife, a daughter too — (The last is really something new, At leaat it may be news to you ;) So I am tied To narrow bounds — as if I grew At ray hearth's side. But I can send you now and then. The rough rude products of my pen. Which you can scan in some lone glen, By some glad stream- - Aloof from some sad bores, calkO. men — Who break one's dream. So now, while borne on song's wild wave, I give you what I often crave, A few thoughts humourous or grave As things may tend, Not mere appearances to save ; But cheer my friend. I trust such intercourse, (begun Beneath an inauspicious sun,) Is now renewed, through life to ruR^ With fixed regard ; For neither of us ought to shun His brother bard,. ADDHESS TO A. M- 0. 77 You say, you priz'd my homely lyre, My (would you say ?) poetic fire, For you have feelings that aspire To Fame's proud height ; Dear Sir, good wings to your desire, And write — soon write- For me, as it regards content, I have no reason to repent That my glad hours are now unspent In musings lone ; My " ladye" has a prudent bent — A social tone She seems to have but one defect. Which is, a certain warm respect. For one who cannot brook neglect Of his poor muse ; With sense sufficient to detect And chase " the blues." I've laid " the birchen sceptre" down, Foregone the glory of the crown— The approving smile, more frequent frown. And " penny-pay," To serve the state, and win renown Some other way. 78 MCPnERSON\s POEMS. So, as your "Justiceship" may sco, My heart is light, my spirit free From those dull cares which ill agree With studious thought, And which have often harrassed me Till nigh o'erwrottght. Thus freed, I find that I can soar As I have never done before. And may yet reach the spirit-shore Of Iwdly minds, Above the loud tumultuous roar Of adverse winds. ** There is a tide in men's affairs*' Which, taken at the flood, prepares The way to seats which merit heirs As her estate ; Neglected — all our after cares May be too late. Yet should I realize my aim, Secure a proud poetic name, Nay — •• rival all but Shakespeare's fame,*' My heart shall still Bespond to friendship's gentle claim. And love's sweet thrill. ADDRESS TO A. M. 0. 79 You say friend Elder — all a bard — Has mentioned me with warm regard ; Just tell liim not to toil too hard For his degree, Lest he revisit that " Grave-Tard^^ Unseen of me. I need not say how well he writes ; Though sometimes, like myself, he slights Poetic language and affright.^? The nymph of Grace ; Not one of all Acadia's wights Could fill his place. ' K ' t LiUifl In closing this most learned sheet, I hope your visions may be sweet Until we fortunately meet — No matter when — If but in some far city street, Both laurelled men. My best respects to lady G, Whom my dear spouse desires to see, Because she was so kind to me, When I was less, And showed a friend's anxiety For my success. 80 Mcpherson's poems. Farewell ! — I have till now deferred This brief but melancholy word, By which coramutual hearts are stirred Even to the core ; Farewell ! a sound that must be heard On this doomed shore ! TO SAMUEL ELDER. (2.) AN ADDRESS. n " Dear brother of the mystic tie,' I would that thou wert here, To gaze with me on yon fair sky And yon receding sphere. The evening air is cool, though calm, The waving fields are breathing balm ; Oh would that thou wert near, To sit with me on this green hill. While thoughts sweet essences distil. Yet thou canst feel, where'er thou art, All beauty — glory — power. The stirring of the conscious heart, The mind's immortal dower. All nature, measureless and free, Is pregnant with delight for thee In every varied hour ; For thine the genius that pursues Meek wisdom in whate'er it views. TO SAMUEL ELDER. 81 Thy spirit walks with Nature ; — thou Hast wooed her peerless charms, And won — and haply winnest now — Chaste rapture from her arms ; And found with her, in converse sweet, A safe and sanctified retreat From busy life's alarms ; And caught her cheerful smile and tone. And made her gushing heart thine own. Her constant love has lent thy mind A fond enthusiast's fire. And called the soul of thought refined From out thy youthful lyre. Till thou hast winged a lofty flight, And breathed an air, and gained a height, To which but few aspire ; But thy best happiness and worth. And dearest hope, are not of earth. Thou hast a dearer, purer choice, A higher, holier aim Than this world's vain inconstant voice, And unsubstantial fame : Go, Warrior of the Holy Cross ! And, counting earthly aims as dross. Secure a deathless name ; Go on, increasing in desire For souls, and souls shall bo thy hire. 82 MCPHERSON S POEMS. Go, cbosen Militant, and wield The armour of the Lord, Go, strong in faith, and take the field Against the thing abhorred ; Go grapple with the world of sin, And fight the righteous fight, and win The infinite reward — The glory yet to be revealed To all by the Redeemer sealed ! WINTER, AN ADDRESS. (3.) " Dear brother of the mystic tie," The landscape wears a snowy shroud. And those wild minstrels of the sky. The winter winds, are piping loud ; Whilst many a black, portentous cloud Unfurls its huge wings to the blast, And trees of giant growth are bowed, Before the tempest, hurrying past. No pleasant sounds of wandering rills, No songs of birds iu beechen bowers, No flocks and herds upon the hills, Now cheer this changeful climo of ours. i WINTER. 88 Stem winter's desert aspect lowers Where'er we turn the asking eye ; But gentle thought and love are powers That soften even a polar sky. I long for spring — congenial spring — Her sunshine and elysian air, That aid the soul to lift her wing, And soar above the clouds of care. But though the fields are now so bare, The Summer of affection's smile, Makes home, that sweet oasis, wear The beauty of a blissful isle. i When sunless day and stormy night Make dreary winter doubly drear, The fireside hath a new delight. The social face an added cheer. The smiles of fond companions dear. The music of the household band. Makes winter's aspect less austere, And ours a happy, happy land. mi This is the season of repose. When frugal toil takes sweet reprieve, In cheerful sleighing o'er the snows. And pleasant visits paid at eve. The Novascotian need not grieve That Heaven has sent him northern skies, For with them come the valued leave To culture all that man should prize. ■11 1 ') 1 84 MCPHERSON S POEMS. How sweet to those that love to give, Is now the charitable deed, To merit, struggling hard to live, In destitution's hour of need ! How sweet, the farmer says, to feed, One's cattle on a stormy day, While they look up, and we may read The silent gratitude they pay. I love to hear the winter wind Rave round my cottage eaves at night ; But more congenial to my mind Glad summer's tones of dear delight. My form, poetically slight, Dreads winter with instinctive fear, But health may still resist his blight, And bear me through another year. Another year ! — shall such be mine. To bring, as all the past have brought, More days of gloom than hours of shine. More anxious than delightful thought ? Enough — let trial come unsoucfht. And peace, on unexpected wings ; Sufficient to a heart o'erwrought The trouble that each moment brings. Thus, Angus, I have poorly tried To breathe a passing thought to thee, Irene seated by my side, And little Mary at my knee, TO IRENE. 85 n Adieu, luy friend : — if thou sbouldst see A poor man struggling hard to rise, Oh ! take him by the hand for me And point him to his native skies. :! TO IRENE. H Dearest ! if rightly I divine From that expressive eye, The hidden life of mind is thine — Pure thought and feeling high, It is not in her form or face, That woman's empire lies ; Possessed of no superior grace, Soon other beauty dies I i 1 Then dearest seek, yet more and more, The charms that ne'er decline, That, when the bloom of youth is o'er, The heart may not repine ; That, whether life to thee be bright, Or shadows o'er it lower. Thou still will have a source of light Beyond its tran&ient power ! i 86 MCPJIEIiSON S P0EM9. liii TO lANTHE. (*.) lanthe, when thou art oppressed, And shorn of thy patience, and tried, Come hither, recline by my breast, And weep till thy sorrows subside. I love thee — oh dearly, and feel, Amid my own multiform woes, Much care for thy temporal weal, But more for thy spirit's repose. Our roof-tree is low, but its shade, Is always delightful and dear ; None dai-ing to make us afraid In rational liberty's sphere. Yet while we enjoy the sweet ties That daily our station requires, Our treasure is stored in the skies — Our hope in the God of our sires. Then yielding ourselves to His will, Transformed by the word of his power, let us serenely fulfil The duties of life's little hour. :iil TO MY SICK WIFE. 87 I Yet, dearest, when thou art oppressed. And shorn of thy patience, and tried, Come hither, yecline by my breast And weep till thy sorrows subside. TO MY SICK WIFE. When thou wast well I joyed to gaze Upon thy form of grace, Observant of the light that plays Around thy lovely face. I felt such gladness in thy sight, Such solace by thy side, As lent my tranquil soul a light That absence vainly tried. But thou art sick and suffering now, And I will be, to thee. The faithful minister that thou Hast often been to me. Yet need I more than self to bear The thought that thou mayst die, And leave me in a world of ewe Without a kindred eye. sr, That self — that bitter self thou art- And aid'st me to sustain A 88 Mcpherson's poejis. The fears that rend my human heart. And rack my anxious brain. With words of hope and looks of love I try to comfort thee, But, Angel, sent me from above. Thy patience comforts me ! Thy words of cheerfulness control The ills that break my rest, Thy sacred sympathies of soul Make e'en affliction blest. But when I gaze on that dim eye, And on that pallid brow, I inly importune the Sky To spare thee to me now. My spirit scarce could mount above The dark'ning ills of earth Without thy pure devoted love, Thy meek retiring worth. May He who gave thee to my prayer Dispel my anxious fears — Still make us His parental care, And give us happy years ! PLEADINGS FOR RETURN. 89 SONNET TO lANTHE. lanthe, spirit, who canst wield the power That wakes my lyre to minstrel melody ; I dedicate my simple song to thee, For thou hast guerdoned it with thy rich dower Of heavenly smiles, and it has many a flower For use and ornament chat came to mo With the glad sharer of my poverty, — The mdustrious mistress of my cottage-bower. Thou hast an influence 1 may not control — A queenly sway in which I am most free, — The music of thy love has charmed my soul And. taught ray song its better ecstacy. Heaven bless thee, and thy babe, our dear, dear spirit, Whose blue eyes beam with beautiful delight, PLEADINGS FOR RETURN. (5) Oh blame not him whose heart is wrecked In all its fondest hopes for thee. If sometimes, somethins: like neglect Restrain the feelings once so free. Think, pitying think, that it may be O'erwhelmed with care, when fancied cold, For, oh ! it still beats true to thee. And keeps thee in its warmest fold. 90 MCPHERSON S POEMS. If, uttered at a time like tliis, Some harsh word pain thy gentle breast, Come to me with thy smile and kiss, And soothe my spirit into rest. That spirit too, too oft, oppressed With weary thought for thee and thino, Is only still and oalm and blessed When thou forhid'st it to repine. Thou canst not think, thou may'st not know How my love deepens with despair ; Though sometimes life's exterior show Would seem to speak it light as air. For I have grief which none may share, And proudest reason doth not quell. Which, yet, might yield to thy kind care, Thy pious patience cherished well. 'i I I Men called rao gifted — and I toiled To reach proud Fame's immortal steep ; But, ah ! thou know'st how darkly foiled Are all the hopes for which I weep ! Oh plunge me in no deeper deep. Bid not my sun go down ere noon ; But come in pardoning love, and keep The poor heart which will break too soon. Oh never, though so much to blame, Have I been inly false to thee ; And this poor heart is still the same. Though tossed on sorrow's shoreless sea. PLEADINfiS FOR RETURN. 91 Lifo now can lend no charms to mo But such as centre in thy smile ; Then, oh ! forgive thy wrongs, and be Its sweeter light, a little while ! A little while ! — a brief sad liour ! For, oh ! I have not long to stay ! And thy dear love should lend its power To cheer the couch of pale decay. I ask but this, sweet wife ! to lay My aching head upon thy breast, To press thy lips, and pass away, Forgiven, to my final rest. I weep, not that I am alone — Though this were much for me to bear- But, that thy tears must not be shown, Thy sighs be breathed to empty air ; Whilst /, who caused thy grief, should share. And, sharing, lessen all thy woes ; And thou should'st soothe my soul of care, And chase the clouds that round me close. ■',» I Come back, my love — my life ! come back, To prove me all which thou canst ask, And tread with me the barren track That gives my soul no easy task. I will not chide — I will not masque Life's light in cold and jealous guise, But bid content and pleasure bask Beneath our calm domestic skies. 92 MCPriEUSON S rOEMP. Write no forgiveness — words are weak, And will not not soothe my wild unrest, But, come and press it on my cheek And weep it on my contrite breast. My errors have been all confessed Before the Eternal's mercy throne. And ile, T trust, will deign to bless The soul which thou shalt joy to own. Come back — come home — and we will rear In our low cot an humble shrine, Look up to God in love and fear, And ask, in faith, the Guide divine. Come home, Irene — angel mine ! With household Peace, the white-winged. Dove, And feel my fond heart true to thine — My soul repay thee with its love. I will not tell how much I feel ! How writlies my heart ! how aches my brow ! For I would have my life reveal How deep the change that rules me now. Come listen to my better vow, And bathe my cheek, and smoothe my bed ; Nor tarry long away — lest thou Shouldst but be called to mourn mo dead. Dead ! couldst thou bear to have me die And thou, my wedded wife, not near To catch my spirit's parting sigh. And shed the tributary tear ? PLEADINGS FOR RETURN. 93 1)y tlio tins onco bold so dear — Hy all wo luivu heen and may be — Come ))iiek to he cheorcd, and to elicer, And live a life of lovo with mo. What more shall deep repentance say 'i What more the suffering soul repeat ? O surely thoic wilt not delay Whilst /shalt listen for thy feet. My inmost heart goes out to meet The loved one who shall rule my home, Make e'en remembered sorrow sweet, And lighten every care to come ! Irene, listen to my sigh — My heart's contrite bewailing groan y And do not, do not let me die. As I may but deserve, — alone. But come with kind consoling tone, And smiling through thy parting tears. Confirm Heaven's pardon with thine own. And crown my hopes for future years. *l *,'! Come thou whose love so sweetly smiled, And brightened even my dreary lot ; Come to nie, mother of my child — Lov'd mistress of my lowly cot. Let past afflictions be forgot — Let sweet hope be once more renewed — And come to me, distrusting not, And prove my deep, deep gratitude. 94 mcphbuson's poems. It is the last time — this the last That I shall hope to move thy soul, So let Oblivion veil the past, And bless me with thy first control ! If this prove vain — the frozen pole Is type of what my breast shall be ! I ask thy love — undoubting, whole— For I all fondly yearn for thee ! TO LAURA. O Loved One Lost, I have again been straying, Where we so oft in happy converse strayed — Where, Youth's glad zest and Hope's gay light obeying, Our footsteps lingered while our hearts delayed. But sad to me the well remembered places. That held the objeets which I prized of yore, Because — alas ! their old familiar faces And kind sweet voices, gladden them no more. HI I IV r The harp that answered to thy fairy fingers Has long been mute within thy faded bower. But still its music's mournful memory lingers Among the dreams that are my spirit's dower. A desert aspect meets me from the dwelling, Whose humble roof-tree sheltered thee so long, Forj^there I saw thy maiden bosom swelling With that sweet love which saddened me to song. I! TO LAURA. 95 i Cold strangers now look out upon the roses That blessed thee yearly with their light and bloom, Beneath the casement which no more discloses The gentle tenant of that quiet room. Alas ! Life needs no great events to make it Forego the visions of its sunny prime — The loving heart no outward force to break it,— Enough, enough the silent lapse of Time. We walk not now where Summer flowers, bestowing Elysian odours on the wooing wind, Made those bright eyes, those fervent tones more glowing, That fond kind heart still fonder and more kind. We sit not now in social conversation, Beside the hearth that smiled with wintry cheer, As oft we sat before the deprivation That quenched our hopes, and wrung the burning tear. Yet, think not that thy name is now unspoken By those who loved thee when thy days were few : Think not the lorn heart slights the simple token That moves to tears whene'er it meets the view. Thou wert beside us in our days of gladness, And, though departed to a stranger shore. Art still remembered in our years of sadness As^one long hoarded in the bosom's core. I '■II The few, that loved thee, valued thee not lightly, And will retain thine image to the last ; And thou, though widely distant, will do rightly To cherish still the friendships of the past ; 96 mcphekson's poems. For, should the friends of later days neglect thee, Those few whose fond hearts have not yet grown cold Will take thee to their bosoms and protect thee, As in the days that were so dear of old. # Farewell, again ! This may be ray last greeting On this unstable and illusive shore. We two may have our next enraptured meeting WTiere love ne'er pines from lack of glittering ore. Methinks thy sufferings must have taught submission To that great Power that holds thee in His hand, Thy soul be meeter for the bright fruition Of endless glory in the spirit land. # One more such hour of moonlight and of dreaming With thee, the thoughtful, and superb of brow, With that soft eye in lustrous beauty beaming. Would waft me back to Boyhood's Eden now. One more such hour as I have passed with thee, love, When glad rills murmured music for the free, Were worth what else that earth could yield to me, love, For life's best light appeared and waned with thee. Yet, what remains bat sighs of mortal sorrow W'.ere sweet hopes have been and must be deferred — Where Expectation looks for no bright morrow, And memory wanders like a widowed bird ; — 1 "] 1 ;0 A STUDENT OP ACADIA COLLEGE. »7 II cold What but a sign of parting and of blessing, That hath no voice but in this world of ours, Where lorn love waits for purified caressing Amid the beauty of undjing bowers. ore. !sion nd, Then Loved One Lost, to be forgotten never By those who hold thee in the tried heart's core, Be blest through this short life — be blest forever On this dim orb and on the Eternal shore. Be thy path brightened with those kind, sweet faces That make this being calm to its decline, And, after long years passed in pleasant places. Be boundless rapture of the Kansomed thine. 'iJ ng ^ ove, me, love, thee. eferred — TO A STUDENT OF ACADIA COLLEGE. Art thou so wedded to the Saviour's cause That, bidding farewell to thy native land. Thou wilt embark for India's distant strand To teach the Heathen mild Religion's laws ? Thou art, for Heaven hath fitted thee for this By giving thee that knowledge of the truth. And that sweet earnest of immortal bliss, Which stamp decision on the aims of youth : Then, though we still would keep thee here — depart Constrained by that great lovo that rules thy inmost heart. 6* mi dS MCPHERSON S POKM? Go, "with our feeble aid, our fervent prayers, — Go, with thy God to comfort thee, to guide The bark that bears tliee safely o'er the tide. And give thee strength for ^Missionary cares. Go, holding not thy life's frail tenure dear. As counting all the hopes of earth but dross, That but some other souls may near Of the salvation purchased on the Cross, And casting down their senseless idols, own The Lord our God Most High, who sits upon the Throne t LAMENT. bl'i SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH OF MR. JAMES KNAUT, AND ©RIEF OF HIS BUOTHEK. Thou art buried, my Brother, On a distant island shore ; We were dear to one another. But the happy past is o'er ; Thou shalt come to charm thy mother And the homestead scene no more. If our human hearts were aching When we caught thy parting sighs. And their love has since boen waking With the hope that seldom flies, — They are bruised now and breaking O'er a thousand severed ties. I rhrone I AND ©RIKF LAMENT. We were glad when thou wast near us. Youthful, beautiful, and brave ; We have none like thee to cheer us As we breast affliction's wave ; If we call, thou canst not hear us In thj resting-place, the grave. Yet we may again behold thee, Not on this unstable strand. But where love may long enfold t^ee. In the glorious spirit land ; Where the deathless have enrolled thee In their bright rejoicing band. Brother, whom to lose seem'd madness- Happy brother, thou hast crossed O'er the fitful sea of sadness, Where the soul is wildly tossed, To the land of life and gladness ; Thou hast gone, but art not lost. So, while life's quick pulse is beating. We will think, to soothe our heart Of the moment of our greeting In the country where thou art. And the rapture of the meeting Where the happy do not part ! 99 ■V I 100 MCPHERSON S POIJMS. HOPE IN GLOOM. What though no present prospects ope,. To cheer the hearts that pine, Come let us cherish hope, sweet hope. That better dajs will shine. Life's slmdows cannot always last, Joy's sun at length will rise, And we shall smile at trouble past. Beneath auspicious skies. True, we have proved the sickly care Of promised bliss delayed, — And s" ernly struggled with despair, Uncheered by earthly aid. Yet, we but bear what all have borne — The common lot of ill, And though our brman heaits are torn, Have source of comfort still. Though want and pain combine to crush A frame not over-strong, Their dismal boding cannot hush The spirit voice of song. True, they may wake impassioned griefs Ami waste my being's spring But I shall soar, to seek relief, Where thought is free to sing. 'g: HOPE IN CL005L Cut off, for lack of promised aid^ From common worldly weal, I hasten to the eilent shade That sorrow's wounds may heal ; There will I rear my humble cot, A home of love and peaoe. And toil, contented with my lot. Till all my sorrows cease- 101 i Our fields of yellow ripening coria Shall rustle in the breeze. And birds of blessing sing at morn. Amid GUI' laden trees. Our humble toil shall crown our board With coarse but welcome fare, And we shall use our little hoard Without the sigh of care. Then, though no present prospects ope, To cheer the hearts that pine, €ome, let us cherish hope, sweet hope. That better days will shine. Lif<)'8 shadows cannot always last, Joy's sun at length will rise, And we shall smile at trouble pai^ jieaeath auspicious skies. it 102 MCPHEASON S POEM 3. POSSESSIONS. A cot for shelter from the storm » A couch for calm repose ; A fireside comfortably warm 'Then winter sheds his snows ; A iittle farm won from the wild, By years of toil and care ; A happy wife — a laughing child, IMakc all my prospects fair. These are the little and the much. That give existence •'est, And aid the grateful thought j tliat toucis The fountains of the breast. I own a portion of the earth On which Thy smiles are shed,— A mind exultant in the gift Of bliss as well as bread. Great Parent ! how shall I express The gratitude I feel ? — With what impassioned words address The Source of all my weal ? Formed, fostered by Thy heavenly poirer;^ And wooM to thy control, I give Thee back thy priceless dower-— Hushed heart, and soaring so\iI. THE IMTALID. 103 THE INVALID. (6.) I long to breath the free glad air, The balmy breath of spring ; To gaze on all things bright and fair, And hear the wild birds sing. I long to feel thy genial heat *' Thou world-reviving Sun ;" And taste again the waters sweet That down the hill-side run. m i Confined to this delightless room For weary weeks of pain, I sigh to bask amidst the bloom, Of nature's vernal reign. I long throughout the breezy day To rove in yonder fields, And win the spirits fresh and gay That life in action yields. Not yet its glorious leafy bower The forest reassumes, But sweetly, in its sheltering bower, Acadia's emblem blooms. Bright birds amidst the woodlands sing, Their summer loves begun ; Gay insect tribes are on the wing, Disporting in the sun. I' ■t, ■ K 1 -t 104 mcpuerson's poems. i w Though Spring may not rejoice my sight, It is a joy to me To know that oth((rs blees the light That shines upoii the free. I hear the blithsome song at morn, The holy hymn at eve ; And hope, of tribulati/jn born, Forbids my heart to grieve. Methinks I knew not how to prize Young health's delightful glow, Till sickness dimmed my lustrous eyes, And laid my vigour low. Perhaps, ungrateful for the good With which my cup was crown'd, The Giver was misunderstood Until His mercy frown'd. So be it : Let me hurablv bear The afflictive portion given, — Since e'en affliction shows the care And tender love of Heaven. Amidst the still-incroasing pains Of this frail form of dust, Still more of Him my soul attains, Still more to Him I trust. COMPENSATION. 105 COMPENSATION. Oft when I feel the tide of song Rush o'er my fitful heart, Misfortunes dark attendant throng, And mental pain, depart. Though *' Fate " withhold Affection's smile, And damp my native fire. Sweet spells my lonely hours beguile Whene'er I strike the lyre. Communing with the glorious things In earth, and sea, and sky, A living well of gladness springs In deserts parclied and dry. Though poor in this world's needful gold, And doomed to sigh alone. E'en I have mental wealth untold O'er all creation strewn. f-. 11' .■:l . I Tru': — I have sighed for Learning's Fount, And spread my feeble wing, — But may not scale the rugged mount That guards the sacred spring. The cares that vex the generous soul, The common needs of life, — Pain, sickness, hope-deferred, control The mind's immortal strife. i i I i 106 Mcpherson's poems. Yet what though adverse fate oppress, If man has learned to soar Above the deep condign distress That dims this earthly shore ? He hath rich scenes of calm delight. When, conscious of her wings, The spirit gains her starry height, And in her sadness, sings. Thus, though too oft o'erwhelmed in gloom That love may shrink to share, There still is much to make my doom Not all too hard to bear. And though so wearied with the strife Of this world's rugged ways, ^ I feel that patience sweetens life, And brings some sunny days. Then leave me to the lot of tears, To which I strive to bow — And which, familiar with my years, Ye may not alter now. I have small earthly wish or aim, But to employ my span. Preserve an independent name, And die — an honest man. Bid others hope — assist the young, Whose hearts are buoyant yet ; For mine has been too darkly wrung ; My earthly hope has set. .r-^^ MEMUUY. 107 I know that life must henceforth be A pilgrimage of pain, But, oh I I trust I hourly see The chastening not in vain. MEMORY. Dost thou ever think of the days gone by, When our hearts were yv ung and free, — When I was the star of thy loving eyt, And thou wast a world to me ? Dost thou yet remember the i.appy t.jie, When, singing a song of glee, I gathered the flowers of thy own dear clime, From the wild-wood bowers, for the ? V Dost thou ever think of our walks of love, When our hearts into one heart grew, As the shining hosts of the halls above Look'd out from their realms of blue ? Oh ! past, long past, are those happy days, But ray first love still is true. And I feel so worn by ,h^ world's cold ways, That I wish those houi j were new. Dost thou ever visit the haunted glen. Where the brooklet's song was sweet, And, freed from the gaze of inquisitive men, I sat at thy maiden feet ? .» 108 MCPHERSON S P0EM3. Dost thou ever visit the wood-bine bower, That lent us its cool retreat, When the summer beams at the noon-tide hour On the fields in fervor beat. Art thou still sheltered by that dear home Where we sat when the storm was high, And the wind rushed on like a cheerless gnome, With the wail of the wintry sky ? Dost thou still make one of the household band For whose social smiles I sigh, Or art thou afar from thine own dear land, And alone in the world, as I ? ANTICIPATING JUNE. raise me from my couch of pain, And bear me to the door, That I may see the green glad earth, And clear blue sky once more. What myriads wing the quick fresh breeze, From dawn to close of day, While such as I, diseased and pale, Sigh feeble life away. I love the hill-top, the green heights, My soul hath freedom there ; And in my days of dear delights, Health came upon their air. ANTICIPATING JUNE. 109 And now, though worn with weary toil, And weak with wasting pain, I long to trace their winding paths, And taste their sweets again. But stay ; the winds are yet so chill The enjoyment might be death, For 1 am much too weak and ill To meet their searching breath. May hath been wet, and cold, and dark, But June may set me free ! And I retrace my favorite walks, Along the flowery lea. ^'il But why this clinging tD the world, Whose cherished hopes decay ? Is it to bend at mammon's shrine ? Or walk in wisdom's way ? Give me to choose the better part, The truth that makes us free, And yield the lowly contrite heart, O gracious Lord, to Thee ! Thus, whether life continue long. Or death's cold touch be nigh, Teach mo to sing salvation's song — Or let me joy to die. Thou hast upheld my feeble soul, Through varied good and ill. And now, that waves of trouble roll, Thy love supports me still. 110 MCPHERSON S POEMS. SUNSHINE AND SHADE. Once more my much loved Harp, once more I touch thy tuneful string, For half my care might well be o'er And hope consent to sing. Kind friends have smiled upon my gloom And cheered my wayward fate, But Oh, this little bit of bloom Has haply come so late ; So late ! The pain that racks my breast, Denoting quick decay, Forewarns me that I soon shall rest Beneath Oblivious clay, Yet will their kindness soothe the grief Of premature decline, Their generous presents bring relief, If not to me, to mine. I go from heart-consuming care, From yearning sighs for peace, To sleep in death's cold chambers, where Life's withering troubles cease. Yet seems it hard for one so young, So fraught with fancies high, To leave his much-loved harp unstrung, Besign his hopeH, and die. WHY MY SONG IS SAD. Ill Yet I am all unmeet, unmeet, To struggle with my lot. And now ray weary pilgrim feet — Would seek some quiet spot. Oh ! lay me, after all my pain, On earth — my mother's breast, And grieve not that ye miss my strain, For I shall be at rest ! Say ! what have I to live for here When health and hope have fled, But desert prospects far too drear. For feeble steps to tread ? What, but the sinking of the heart Beneath despair's control, Wild tears of anguish wept apart, And bitterness of soul ? WHY MY SONG IS SAD. Ye ask me why my song is sad In life's meridian day ; I answer. How can it be glad When Hope withholds her ray ? She has not shed her warmer beams, Upon ray night of gloom, And now withdraws her faint cold gleams, And leaves me to my doom. 112 MCPHERSON S P0E3IS. Spring cairiG — I scarcely breathed her air. Or looked upon her sky ; And Sarnmer's charms, exceeding fair, Passed half-regarded by. Now Autumn, crowned with golden sheaves Brings bread and bliss to toil, But mine are but the withered leaves — The crushed heart's piteous spoil. Unconscious, unafraid of guile, I build my tower — on dust ! Alas ! how man can smile anO: smile, And break his brother's trust. What change of fate can make amends, What after smiles repay, The pangs infixed by friendo, strange friends. That flatter and betray ! The wronged Athenian sought a cave Beside the lone sea-shore, — And I, too long a suppliant slave, Will trust the world no more ; Taught, by the sorrows of the past How scathe the false world's fires. Will shun the noisy scene at last And nurse subdued desires. But who can brook the bitter thouiiht That earthly trust is vain ! The wisdom is all dearly bought That brings such burning pain. TAKE BACK THE LYRE. 113 We waste the sunny years of youth, We lavish manhood's prime, To prove, and weep, the cold, cold truth So oft revealed by time ! Then ask not why my song is sad, My soul forlorn and drear ; Can high-v/rought minstrel souls be glad When hope forgets to cheer ? Can hearts bowed down to earth, maintain Sweet patiep-ce, and be still, No earth experience but of pain — Small prospect, but of ill ? The birds, that all the bright day long, Breathe rapture on the ear. Have sorrow in their sweetest song. When Winter rules the year ; So, when life's glorious rainbows fail, And hope forsakes our sky, The proudest spirits inly quail, The coldest bosoms sigh. 'd'i TAKE BACK THE LYRE. O give me back the lyre whose strain Sent light o'er life's unclouded spring, The lyre that long hath idly lain, That ceased with youthful Hope, to sing. i 'M\ ll'i MCPHERS0N*3 P0EM3. Perchance I yet again may wake The voice of dim departed years ; Perchance this icy spell may break And melt to sad yet sootliing tears. Alas ! my youthful fire i? o'er — The strain is sad and lifeless all ; Th.is time-worn lyre i;an but deplore The grief, wbich holds my heart in thrall. The loved who woko its voice of i.a, lli, Have ceased their radiant light to shed ; And life to me is dark, and earth Has gloom from deserts of the dead. Away, away — take back the lyre ! I cannot wake its gladdening tone — I cannot now its chords ins|)ire, Each cherished earthly hope has flown. Take back the lyre — its mournful strain Accords not with its notes of yore ; And oh, it adds but moro of pain To think its last glad song is o'er. A LUCID INTERVAL. 115 A LUCID INTERVAL. The spirit of the dreamy past A bright perspective drew ; But wakeful life is all o'ercast, With truth's ensomber* d hue ; I could not in my joy believe The warning of the wise, That pleasure sniileth to deceive. And Peace \mt sings and flies. I longed for Manhood's active prime, But now I turn, in tears, Unto my Boyhood's happy time, My unreturning years ; I linger o'er their treasured things, As raisers o'er their gold, And weep that young Delight has winga That may not be controlled. For rao to sigh foi Learning's store, Is but to feel the sting That waits on those who try to soar On poor Misfortune's wing. " The cares that vex the generous soul — The common needs of life — Pain, sickness, hope deferred, control The mind's immortal strife." r'^ 116 MCPHERgON S POEMS. My lot has been a wearied lot, With only, at the most, The limits of a little spot That clouds had not engrossed. But though the gloom that marks my brow, Is cold within my heart, My soul has garnered much, that now I would not have depart. The Past instructs the Present, — I Have learned with one of yore, That all is vain beneath the sky Unless wo seek for more. Life has a bitter cup at best — But if its hopes be all, Its pleasures lack their native zest, And prematurely pall. When want restrained my youthful fire, I bade my harp eomplain ; But now along each trembling wire There breathes an humble strain : The night that closed around my way Is still without a morn. But, oh ! of sacred Reason's ray A steadfast star is born. FORaET ME. 117 FORGET ME. Forget me ! — all my love and care. My smiles and tears forget ; — My youthful hopes were bright and fair, But Fortune's light hath set. Through life these last sad words of mine. This hour, do not recall ; I would not that a tear of thine For one so lone should fall. Forget me ! — think of me no more — Or let my memory be Like that of one whose strife is o'er. Whose wearied soul is free. My youthful hopes were bright and fair^ But Fortune's light hath set : — Forget me — all my love and care. My smiles and tears, forget. i"M FORGET TIIEE f >' Forget thee ? — Oh ! it may not be— Thy love hath o'er me cast A spell that still will turn to thee, And wake the happy past. When first in thi ; culd world we mot. And heart counnuned with heart» A seal upon my soul was sot, That may not hence depart. 118 bicpiierson's poems. Forget thee ? — Yes, when these worn eyes In dreamless sleep shall close — When this lone heart that loves thee, lies In Death's serene repose. Through life will I the past recall- On thee my thoughts shall rest, — For thee my frequent tears shall fall, My sighs be unrepressed. THE LIGHT 01 THY SUNNY EYE. The light of thy sunny eye once moro On my pallid brow is beaming, But, dearest, my joyous days are o'er, And the zest of my heart's fond dreaming. My lip may be seen to wear a smile, The wreck of my youth illuming. But the shade that passes my face the while Tells that no earth hopes are blooming. Full quickly the silver cord of life Will the spoiler's cold touch sever. And my soul shall be freed from its pain and strife, And return to its bourne forever. Like a bird unbound from its weary chain, Aloft in its gladness springing ; Even so may I soar to the heavenly plain Of its joyful freedom singing. I WOULD I WERE A CHILD AGAIN. 119 I WOULD I WERE A CHILD AGAIN. I would I were a child again To sit among the flowers^ And gathering garlands for my hair, In summer's sunny hours. I would I were a child again, As careless and as gay As when I laughed as others laugh, And played as others play. n Oh, happy times ! — how soon exchanged For after years of care, The darkly trying lot of earth. That man is doomed to bear. Oh, happy time ! — when on her hope My tender mother smiled — I would I were a child again — A young and happy child ! iU • strife, THE BUDS HAVE BURST FORTH. The buds have burst forth into beautiful flowers. And the birds that I love have returned to my bowers, The green leaves are glistening, the grass and the grain Give promise of harvest to gladden the swain. ^ 1 120 MCVHERSON S TOKMS. But I have no plca.sure, no sense ;in : no siglit, In all that once gave me such purer deliv,)it. I know there are greenness, and beauty and flowers, And fairy birds singing in favourite bowers ; But sickness of body, and sweet hopes deferred, Have rent the sweet ehords which the joy-spirit stirred, And now the fond poet of nature and truth, Is wasting away in the summer of youth. Going down to the grave, leaving kind friends to weep, And a loved wife to mourn with a sorrow too deep ; And a young child to miss him and ask for his face, When a cold chilling void shall have darkened his place. Yet God gives me patience — I wish to be still, Behold his salvation, submit to His will ; And I trust that ray hope in His mercy and Love, Is an earnest of rest in the mansions above. ONE DAY NEARER. One day nearer to the grave — Swiftly suns and shadows roll. Bringing on the solemn time Which shall try the trembling soul. ONTJi LAY MEARKF.. 121 NQVS, Ono (lay nearer to the grave— I am ba.steniuL'" to its bourne, I am witlierlng from the world. Never, never to return. stirred. Well, the "Will of HeaTcn bo done > I have toiled for humble bread, — Wliile the better part — the soul — Siglied, neglected, — pined, unfed., to weep, eep; face, ]is place. )ve, 'Tis an awful thing to die — Even the Christian feels it such j Shrinks to close the weary eye, Dreads the last congealing touch. But, Maker of my frame, Thou, if sought aright, wilt give :^ I have sinned — incurred thy wrath ; Christ has died — and I may live. <}ivc me — earnestly I crave — Faith, and hope, and perfect love- Save me, in Thy mercy save ! Take mo to Thyself above ! Thou canst justify the soul Which has sinned, and yet be just. Justify, and make me whole — Whole in heai% and spirit-trust. 6* i 122 MC I'HERSON S PO.KaCte'- DEPARTING. They tell me that the smiles of Spring^ Are bright upon the earth, That every green and flowery thing Is bursting into birth. They tell me of the songs of birds, The murmuring of the rills, The cheerful sounds of flocks and herds Upon a thousand hills. In vain for me, the birds sing cheer, The flo ^ers unfold their dyes ; The sights I see, the sounds I hear, Are human tears and sighs. Yet why should I lament the doom That gives this mortal, rest, Ere thousands lose their youthful bloom And buoyancy of breast ? Why should my loving friends deplore My premature decay t I long to spread my wings and soar To everlasting day. vrrr TO MY WIFE. wrc Tliey sliould not grieve because I go. On glad wings — like a dove — From sin and suffering below To endless peace above. 123 ,1 I My hope is strong — I have no fears : I hear my Saviour's voice — O friends, O kindred, dry your tears. Look heavenward, and rejoice. W TO MY WIFE. (7.) Oh give me music in my pain, To wrap me from my care, Sing, dearest, sing, some holy strain, To some old saered air. Thou canst not raise me from my bed, Of early sad decay. With all the tears which love may shed. Or vows which love would pay. But thou canst bear my spirit up Upon thy winged voice, Till I forget lifers bitter cup. Breathe freely, and rejoice. If poor our lot, and small our hope. If brief as thought our bloom, Oh, let us trust that light will ope To cheer this hour ef glooin. 124 3i'C PHEESON'^a POEMS' My heart, long pierced with various para,- Sees gleams of light divine, And still would labour to retain Some hope for thee and thine. I ask no long protracted stay, To waste my midnight oil ; But strength to smooth our humble "way^ And health for useful toil. But He v/ho rules with gracious sway^ jMay other path decree ; And I, at life's meridian day, Be wrapjxjd in earth from thee I But lot not grief, too bitter, rend, — > But tru&t, and trusting yrniy, The widow's God, the orphan's friend, ^^^ill be thy stuff and sta;v . THE WISH. 0, make my lone and lowly grave Beneath the bright unbounded sky. And let no cypress o'er it wave, No marble meet the traveller's eye. I would not be, among the crowd, In common sepulchres inhumed ; I woull not with the rich and proud Be mid the pomp of State eutomb'id.. XIIK WISH. 125 Enougli for me, if wliilc I live I strive my wayward heart to keep ; My foes — if I have foes — forgive, JiOvc ull, and v;eep with those v/ho weep. Enongli for mo, if when I die I leave no heart which mine hath wrung,— No tear but in AfToction's eye, No line the good may wish oinsung. Eiiongli, if o'er my dreamless vest The Mourner, Night, comes down to weep ; If there, us oft in moments hlest, The stars keep watch, the moouboams sleep. Wh}?' trouble wliere we leave our ^^lay, When sunnnoned to the spirit sphere ; Yet I this v/earied frame would liij la some sweet spot to feeling dear. Then make my lone av.d lowly grave lieneath the briglit unbounded biky, Where flowers n. •; bloom, and green grass wave, Mm), wild birds .sing, and soft winds sigli I I mi NOTES TO " PERSONAL.' (1.) The corresi)on(Tent addressed in these lines, was the person mentioned in meuiojr, as an early friend (A' the Poet. At the date of the lines, Mr. G. was editor of a Provincial paper, — and in its column* had made eomplimentm-y reference to Mr. McPherswi. The Mr. Elder mentioned in one of the verses, was, at the time, a candidate for the Baptist ministry. He had WTitten poetical ])io<^es above the com- mon order,— one of thosi, entitled "The Grr^ve Yard," is alluded t& in the Address to Mr. G. Mr. E, died befoi-e he liud attained to what ■ ■- called, the prime of life. (2.) By tlve term "mystic tie" as used in this and one or two other places, is to he understood, the poetic sympathy :. the bond c*" litemtuie, taste and habits, which is supposed to influence lainds havhig poetic propensities and training. These lines are also addressed to Mr. G. Each stanza has- m via', , . anticipation of iSpri enjoyments, which the little pastoral includes. (4.) lantlie was taken as an occasional designation, instead of Irene, for the same person. (5.) Sec Memoir, under title " Particulars of Poems," for some «xplanation in reference to these lines. (6.) This little piece Is chai'acteristic of McPherson's muse : The sympathy with natiire, — the personal wailings, the consolation in good exijerienced by others, die devotional tuvtiency, and the liquid flowing of metre, — have echoes iu numy parts of the volume. (7.) Tills loving lament is nmrkcd as McPhe; son's "last" poetical effort. What thoughts are suggested by the circunastanc*. and by the tone of mind expressed 8-t': ■ he person he tiate of s colnmns The Mr. kdidaie for ; the com- aUuded ta id to what rve or two e bond c^ !\ce minds stanza has. iiid finely the paint- the social instead of for some- PART II. INCLUDINO : "DEVOTIONAL," "TEMPEKANCE KEFOEM," (( OCCASIONAL." to use r The ohition iu le liquid; " last " imstaBCftj, " Tlio noblest claim ! To walk with God, — to be divinol}' free, To soar, and to anticii^ito the skies." " 'Tis nurtur'd thirst,— Of ruinous excess, that freiimmt prompts, The baser action, and imbrutes the man." " Studious of Soni,", And yet am1)itious not to sin<^ in vain, I would not trifle merely," i DEVOTIONAL. The humble aspirations of the Jieart towards Divine power and goodness, — tlie elements of worsliip, love and constant service, are understood by the term Devotion. The Poet says — " An undevout Astronomer is mad " ; — but should not the reproof have much wider range ? Man, in his nature and history would be the problem of the universe, if divested of that linking with Divine excellence, which is characteristic of true Devotion ; — which refines and harmonizes hu- man life. The natural history of humanity proves how almost universal is the instinct of Divine worship ; — in its higlier and purer Christian aspects it doubtless develops the highest order of man ; the most dig- nified, beneficent and ha|)py condition of the human race, created, to some extent, in the likeness of the Creator. The diflferent ranks of Society, have greatly different objects and principles of daily life ; — but sincere devotion harmonizes every grade. In this r-jspect, the Queen on the throne, and the most obscure cottager, \ia\ti the same great Centre of solicitude, of prayer, of praise, and of consolation . The Poet has been called the priest of nature : one who stands, as it were, between the seen and unseen worlds ; Avho allures to the genial and beautiful and good ; — who gives a language to the other- wise inarticalate principles of animate and inanimate existence, causing appreciation and concord, where otherv.ise ignorance and confusion might prevail. Such an estimate may include much of poetic license, — but it also includes much of the real essentials of the poet's office, — and except it apply, to some good degree, a student may labor i^*' rhetoric and rhyme, with but few claims to the title of true Poet. The verses which follow are pervaded by much of the aspiration and genuine philosophy of aeccptahlo devotion, — while the melody of the language, and vividness of the thoughts, will be found, in many parts, calculated to combine feelings oi interest and pleasure with those of utihtv asxl dutv. m 1 >J DEVOTIOKAL. PRAISE. (Note 1.) Let ocean, the Creator praise ; Let rolling floods adore Him ; Your song, ye lofty mountains raise, Ye hills, be glad before Him. Ye winds take up the lofty lay, And, on your mystic pinions. The wonders of His fame convey Throughout his vast dominions. Ye storms that war with ocean hoar, Are heard the chorus swelling ; Still in your elemental roar, Of great Jehovah telling ft' Ye lightnings which attend his car. Ye loud o'erwhelming thunders, Proclaim his awful name afar And speak his gracious wonders. 132 MC PHERSON S POEMS. To Him, ye trees, your honours wave, llejoicing on the mountains ; To Him ye streams, the vales that lave, Leap gladly trom your iountains. Let all his creatures sing his praise, Let sinners fear before him ; Let saints the grateful anthem , ■">, And every soul adore Him. WORSHIP. (2.) " It is good to be here." — F£T£R. Saviour ! it is good for us To be assembled here ! For when we meet to worship thus, Thou art divinely near. :J!lli it. ii We cannot see Thee, as of old Thy favored people saw ; We cannot, as they did, behold Thy look of love and awe ! Yet where Thy trusting servants meet, In Thy most holy name, Thy presence makes devotion sweet, And purifies its flame. PRAISE AND PRAYER. Thy smiles such peace and joy impart That doubt and darkness flee, And leave the altar of the heart, Not all unmeet for Thee ! 133 PRAI^ ^^RAYER. f Creator of this mortal frame With mystic sense inwrought, And glowing with the vital flame Of heaven-aspiring thought ; To Thee, Lord, enthroned above In glory's holiest glow, How deep a debt of thankful love Do we, Thy creatures, owe. Each day and every hour displays Thy Providential care ; Thine eye is over all our ways, Thy influence every where. Then aid, aid us to maintain The birthright of the free, And strengthen thou the golden chain That binds our hearts to Thee ! ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^/ // '^^ ^ ^ . <.^^^^ /- < <;" ^ % :a 2a 1.0 I.I 1.25 |50 '""^ It 1^ 2.5 1.8 U 111.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. I4S80 (716) •73-4)03 134 MC PIIERSON S POEMS. PRAYER MEETING MELODY. ! Thou at whose coming the glad heavens bow, Shed on us the light of Thy countenance now ; Let Thy love to this waiting assembly appear — To the souls of Thy servants be graciously near. Thou hast promised that thus when Thy followers meet Thy presence shall bless them — their union be sweet ; Then, 0, to Thy people who seek Thee, draw near, That we all may confess '* it is good to be here ! " We would fain give ourselves to our Lord in our youth, To be kept by the Spirit of Meekness and Truth, To be taught by Thy wisdom to walk in Thy light Until sin shall have vanished, and faith become sight. Then, 0, to Thy worshipping servants impart Due fervor of soul and contrition of heart. That, released from the sins that beset and enthrall. We may serve Thee with freedom and love Thee o'er all ! teach us henceforth so to number our days That the works of our hands may be done to Thy praise, That all who our patience and faithfulness see, May learn of our Master, and glorify Thee. / SABBITII SCHOOL HYMN. 135 SABBATH SCHOOL HYMN. Saviour ! we have come to-day To be guided in Thy way, To be led in early youth In the peaceful paths of Truth. s meet sveet; ear, r youth, :ht sight. rail, e o'er all ! We are seekers — and would find Singleness of heart and mind ; We are learners — and would be Great Instructor ! taught of Thee ! Bless our faithful pastor's cares, Bless our Sabbath teacher's prayers ; Make them useful, fervent, wise, Righteous leaders to the skies. Bless this sacred Sabbath day — Bless Religion's widening sway Into thy good hands we fall-« Guide, protect, instruct us q\\ I THE Compensation. ./ \ s% I i hy praise, What ma**^er where our lot be cast. If Ve perform our part, -^"^ beaT the sunshine and the blast Inpur5*Jof heart; / ,/ 13G Mcpherson's pobms. What matter how obscure the place In which we run our earthly race, Or how these bodies smart, If we secure a home above — An interest in a Saviour's love. The trials of this sinful sphere, This darkly passing shore, Though oftimes many and severe. Shall soon afflict no more ; — Will be forgotten when we gaze On glory's bright undazzling blaze. And heavenly heights explore ; For He who sits upon the Throne Has fadeless pleasures for His own ! HOPE. . Did Hope, thc*^t fails the righteous never. No light beyoi?^' the grave impart — Did Death divide oX souls for ever. How sad were the sui'viving heart ? There is a land of life unending. Where those who serve the Lord shall meet, A land where soul with soul is blen ' '^g, Where love is pure, and servir'"' ^ « sweet. Tins BEST. Though here, by many sorrows riven, Though here, the prospect cheats our eyes, To faith the glorious hope is given. Of boundless bliss beyond the skies. Then let us, our intent declaring. With steadfast faith and constant prayer, The ills of life with patience bearing, For that eternal rest prepare ! [87 THE REST. (S.) Rest, for all the broken-hearted, Joy, for all oppressed with grief; Bliss, for all the good departed, And for every ill, relief ! Think, who lay in lowly manger ! Who contemned the world's vain pride ! Who was deemed a wandering stranger ! Who Heaven's gates hath opened wide ! Joy, then, — Joy ! and onward pressing, Toil ye for the glorious prize ; Sweet the rest, the promised blessing. Which shall greet the ransomed eyes ! 138 MCPHERSON S POKM?;. IIEAA'ENLY GUIDANCE. Christian, life, like yonder ocean. Teems with dangers dark and drear ; Now, its waves, in wild commotion, Now, in tranquil rest, appear. From its shining, peaceful seeming, Christian, thou hast much to fear, But with heavenly beacon beaming. Thou th;' bark may'st rightly steer. Then, should stormy wrath assail thee ! Crowding ills thy lot betide ! Fear not, — help shall never fail thee ; Deity thy guard and guide. Though nor time, nor space can bound Him, He can in the heart abide. Peace and joy diffusing round Him, Strength and solace, by thy side. BEREAVEMENTS. 0, why from all things which the heart Delighted, fain would keep, Is hapless man decreed to part In anguish wild and deep ? 0, why must sad bereavement's tears In hopeless grief be shed, While love lament through lonely years The absent and the dead ? A NIGilT THOUGHT, i;n> Sin, sin, that erst from Eden'.s ])Oweis Exiled the primal pair, Has marked this weeping world of ours, With cold sepulchral air. Hence, all that spring on earth must fade ; And all of mortal born, Descend to silent solemn shade, Waiting the rising morn. % Then, bursting from the silent tomb. Shall all, the crown that win, In bright unwithering beauty bloom, And endless life begin. While sweetly through unbounded space. Beneath unclouded skies, Glad songs of praise, for saving grace> From golden harps shall rise I A MGHT THOUGHT. ^ As purely in the human breast Should Virtue's image lie. As in the lakelet sank to rest. The mirrored, starry sky. But lured by Pleasure's phantom, man. Unmindful of bis goal. Seeks not to gild his little span, The light that guides the soul. 140 MCPHERSON 8 P0EM3. MOURNER. Mourner, hath thy friend departed ? Beams no more the loved one's eye ? Art thou lone and broken-hearted — Worn with woe, and prone to die. Though thy path be dark before thee, Though there seem no cheering ray, Light will rise, and shining o'er thee, Turn the darkness into day. Maiden ! youth and health may leave thee, All thy young delights depart, — Time, of mortal joy bereave thee, Earthly love forsake thy heart ; Yet, if when thy path is shaded, Thou eanst soar above its gloom, O'er thine earthly prospects faded, Brighter scenes for thee shall bloom ! Mourner, weak and worn with sorrow, Grief but for a while will last ; Joy returneth with the morrow. And the night will soon be past. Much to cheer thee still, is given — Much to chase away thy fears ; Feelings wearied, worn and riven — Soon shall know no bitter tears. BESIGNATION. 141 RESIGNATION. (*•> Mortal ! o'er thy lot repining, Lift above thy tearful eyes ; Earthly ills, our hearts refining, Fit us for our native skies ; Earthly joys when most declining Seem to bid us most to rise. If thy heart too proudly clingeth To this changeful world of ours. Marvel not if sorrow springeth E'en from out its fairest flowers ; Earthly passion surely bringeth Darkness o'er its brightest bowers^ Think how oft thou blindly swervest From the light and life divine — Think how little thou deservest, While so much of good is thine, And, if Heaven thou rightly servest. Thou wilt then no more repine I EARTH. (5.) Cling not to Earth-— her frequent smile. Polluted in its spring, Is oft the changing phase of guile — The charm before the sting. :if 'm 142 Mcpherson's poems. She mockotli those who love her — makes Their wiser actions gross mistakes, And clips the spirit's wing. Cling not to earth — her flowers depart, And leave a wintry dearth of heart. We labour more to live unblest— To nurse these sensual fires, Than to secure the glorious rest Reserved for pure desires. The life to come is shaped in this, Which hath sweet preludes of the blisa To which our hope aspires ; But though we sigh for happier skies, We trust the world, and miss the prize ! Thou scom'st the tyranny of man, Stoop not to that of lust. Which desecrates his little span, And bows him to the dust, — Obscures the glory of the soul Ambitious of a heavenly goal. And violates her trust ! Alas I that he who frees the slave Should tread on Moral Freedom's grave ! Cling not to earth, but cease to prize, That syren, Sensual Joy, Which, fair to inexperienced eyes, Allures but to destroy. EARTHLY JOY. 143 Not all the blandishments of art Can hide the worm that gnaws her heart, And works the soul annoy ; Blight lurks beneath her balmiest breath, Her straying feet take hold on death. Seek "Wisdom ; she is knowledge, truth, The soul's superior sight. The fountain of immortal youth. And ever new delight. Her right hand offers length of days. Her left, true riches, pleasure, praise, And all things pure and bright. Her ways are pleasantness and peace ; Time fails, but her rewards, increase. '1 i EARTHLY JOY. I ask not earthly joy Which cannot long endure. But that which Time may not destroy ; The exquisite and pure. 'An I would not linger here — When called to rise and go To that all-radiant upper sphere, Unstained by sin and woe. 144 MCPHERSON S POKUS. Earth's frail and feyerisli clay Suits not the rising soul, That loves to wing her joyful way To her eternal goal. E'en now, as on the verge Of mortal life I stand. There come sweet angel-thoughts that urge My thoughts to that far land. Yes, I will bear this strife, And wait with hope, till He Who spake the world to light and life, Speak my hashed spirit free. VOTARY OF PLEASURE. Thou that now in youth enjoyest That which seems suflficient bliss, Thou that all thy powers employest. Like thy precious years, amiss ; That immortal soul debasing At the world's unholy shrine, There thy fond affections placing,— How can lasting peace be thine ? XnC VOTARY OV PLEAStJRE, Ho who yields to dark temptation, He who persc'veres in sin, Thouglitless of his high vocation Feels an aching void within. Virtue's peaceful paths forsaking, Wandering fiom the ways of right, 'Grief for guilt our souls o'ertaking, We partake the penal blight. Wisdom long hath loudly spoken. Though she speaks too oft in vain, That when Nature's laws are broken Man must suffer varied pain : Use the world, as not abusing That which to well-being tends ; Take thy lot without refusing Teachings, Heavenly Goodness sends. 145 ;l Though the things of time are twining Round the young and ardent heart, Yet, their specious lures declining. Wisely chooso the better part. Hail the light that, shining o'er thee, With its pure prophetic ray, Will dispel the gloom before thee And make sure the doubtful way. This is but the dawn of being, This, Probation's trial hour ■; Here, man seeth not, or seeing, Slumbereth on where troubles lower. 7» KG MCPHERSON S POEMS. Then, no longer idly dreaming, — Life's corrupting pleasures fly ; And, thy precious years redeeming. Lay up treasures in the sky. TO A CHRISTIAN FRIENDi My Brother I though thy lot be low. Thy burthen hard to bear^— Thy earthly pleasures dashed with woe^^ Thy earthly peace, with care ; Hast thou not still amidst the gloom Some little tints of heavenly bloom, Some flowers serenely fair — Some pure bright antepasts of joy " Which time shall never dare destroy? Those lights that cheer thee on thy way Are shadows of a sphere, To which, as fades our evil day, The spirit draws more near : Then faint not thou, but fix thine eye In patient hope beyond the sky Till that bright world appear : Life's little ills will soon be o'er. And sin and sorrow vex no more. TO A CHRISTIAN FRIEND. U7 ^0 matter where our lot be cast, If we perform our part, j| And bear the sunshine and the blast In lowliness of heart ; No matter how obseure the place In which we run our earthly race— Nor how these bodies smart. If WG secure a home above — An interest in a Saviour's love. I The trials of this sinful sphere— This doomed and passing shore, IrVhieh, though, at intervals, severe. Shall soon afflict eo more — Will be forgotten when we gaze On Glory's empyrean blaze, And all of heaven explore ; For He who sits upon the Throne Will give us pleasures like his owe. This state'of trial may be best To fit us for the sky, If here the soul were fully blest The body might not die ; Even Enoch, of angelic worth, Who died not, was not left on eartk. But taken up on high. This life is lent us to prepare .^or endless habitations there ^48 Hc phbbson's wmm. Then, when thy spirit is oppressed Aud wearied with its clay, Look upwards to thy home of rest, And faint not in the way. Be ever faithful to the Lord, Nor wander into paths abhorred, But watch, and, watching pray. Tea — listen for the Master's voice, That thou mayest answer and rejoicci- Eemember, He who bore our sins Was tempted as are we ; And know, the triumph but begins When suffering sets us free. Submit implicity to Him, Before whom bow the Cherubim, And he will succour thee ; He knows our frame, that we are dust^ And well rewards our humble trust. WHAT WE SHALL BE. Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard^ And thought doth not conceive How great the bliss to be conferred On those that hear the Saviour's wordV And Ueaupg it, believe. HESREW MELODY. 149 y pleasures that in Ed-en smiled, ilowever bright and fair, Ere sin the peaceful haunts defikd, Can with that bliss compare. We Itnow there is a better shore By no dark cloud o'ercast. To which the joyful soul shall soar And dwell delighted, evermore^ When earthly life is past We know not what -we there shall be- Yet not unlike to Him, At whose bright presence earth shall And every star be dun. HEBREW MELODr. SPRING. The sky relieved of Wintry gloom Is smilingly serene. The dews descend — the fields resume Their garb of cheerful green. Sweet sounds of re-awakening mirth Borne on the south wind's wing, .And bright things bursting into birth, Tell of the balmy Spring, m ate PHERSON S POEM?. The singing of the Me birds — The turtle dove^s soft voice — The bleating flocks, the lowing herds — Bid Judah's sons rejoice. Then, ob ; like these, no longer mut©'^. Awake the tribute dear ; Bring forth the timbrel and the lute» And bail the opening year. Shall we forego the pleasing theme ? Shall we be silent long, "When hill and dale and gushing streaaeu Are jubilant with song ? No ! Hebrews, be the duty ours To bid glad echoes leap, From favored Salem's holy towers To Judali's farthest steep. Bejoice, for these sahibrious skies, These tender, blades and flowers, Ijike love's pure light in yoiithful eyes^. Betoken happier hours. Hejoice, for e*en the winged air, The green and flowery sward, Are grateful for the smiling caje* ©f Israel's glorious Lord, WASTED GIFTS. Let pious thankfulness impart Its music to the voice, Great gladness gush from every heart, And every soul rejoice. 151 I! WASTED GIFTS. Man, gifted with a glorious soul, — Oft grovelleth in the dust. Unmindful of its native goal, Its pure immortal trust. Time, talents, many a precious gift That Sovereign Bounty lends. Are wasted in the wild unthrift, On poor precarious ends. Though lapsed from happy first estate In Eden's peaceful bowers, Thou mightst again be good and great With such angelic powers ! But why despair ? Did Jesus die, And will not Heaven forgive ? Oh ! Faith, lift up the tearful eye, And Hope shall whisper — Live. 152 MC PliERSON S P0£il3. Poor trembler ! Heaven has done its part In love to ransom thee ; — Yield thou the broken contrite heart, And Grace shall set thee free. OUR LOT. i'li ill'' ii;: Our lot in the world may be dreary, Our portion of comfort but small. The spirit bo joyless and weary, And sorrow the bosom enthrall. Even then, from kind Heaven appeareth A light, in the midst of our gloom, The soul of the lone one it cheereth. And causeth the desert to bloom. r^ he fortune we trust may deceive us. The friends that we love may depart, But sunshine will never all leave us If virtue has home In the heart. Albeit we journey in sorrow, Remote from the regions of rest. Yet here, even here, wo can borrow A beam from the land of the blest, REPROOF. 153 REPROOF. What boots it now for me to live ? Tlie few that loved me once are dead ! The joys which social love can give, No more their sunshine o'er me shed. I long for Nature's last reprieve^ That quiet which the weary crave ; This darkened earthly scene to leave And sleep serenely in the grave. Hush, mortal, hush ! — Thy Maker's will Has placed thee in this world of care, And thou its hour of seeming ill In patient hope shouldst humbly bear. Though earthly joy has veiled its ray. And thou hast wept its dim decline, The transient cloud may pass away And pure unfading light bo thine. Oh ! why should mortal man complain Of tribulation's just award, If all this weary load of pain Prepares the soul to meet her Lord. M 154 MCPH^msON's POEMS. Be this our being's primal aim — Chief end for which \^e sojourn here- To laud oar glorious Maker's name, And seek a higher, nobler sphere ! !i, RECOVERY. Disease's hand was on my heart, And darkness on my mind ; The frequent tear would sadly start, And hope was half resigned. But Mercy's healing angel came, And bursting through the gloom, Restored the eye its former flame, The check its early bloom. As if by some supernal power Revived, the spirits spring ; The soul forgets her darkened hour, And Thought resumes her wing. Great Being whom with awe we nam From whom all blessings flow ! Restorer of my fevered frame — How much to thee I owe ! JOY AND INNOCENCE. When comes at last, as come it must, Since we are doomed to die — The hour when dust returns to dust,— take my soul on high ! 155 i^'. 1 1 JOY AND INNOCENCE. (8.) The hosts around the eternal throne, Began a louder song, As man mid Eden's flowery zone. Joined Adoration's throng. As bowing lowly, pure and calm, And free from guileful art, His morning hymn and evening psalm Were offered from the heart. That pristine song was soon unsung. For sin's impending doom Darkened the scene so fair and young, And soil'd the spirit's bloom. But, oh ! again that song shall rise, Amidst the courts above. When Death shall give us to the skies, To sint; Bedeemino; Love. Nay — when this strife shall vex no more, That glorious strain shall be More sweetly grateful than before — Ascending from the free. 156 MC PHERSON S POEMS. Tho radiance of her native source— The beauty of her spring — Will give the soul more grateful force, And more exultant wing. MORTAL AND IMMORTAL. f I m To lay the wearied body down And soar beyond the sky, To wear an everlasting crown, Why call we this — to die ? To die ? Pure spirits do not die ; They but resign their clay To dwell in endless life on high, To triumph o'er decay ! For them, to close the mortal sight, To yield the mortal breath, Is but to rise to Heaven's own light, To wake from sin and death ! Then who would dread ihe mystic change That gives him to the sky. Through all the unexplored to range, From star to star to fly ? PROVIDENCE AND GRACE. 15- PROVIDENCE AND GRACE. All beings bow to thy behest — before Thee Archangels veil their faces with their wings, Cry, Holy ! Holy art Thou ! and adore Thee, With songs harmonious, — Sovereign King of kings. We, too, whom thou in innocence created, But who have gone like foolish sheep astray,— Kindred to dust, yet to the skies related. Would seek Thy footstool, and be taught Thy way. Our myriad sins rise o'er us like a mountain, But since Tliy mercies evermore endure, We would approach the rich exhaustless fountain By which the vilest may be rendered pure. We come to Thee, of all our sins repenting. Our purpose open to Thy searching view; Then righteous father, in thy love relenting, Absolve our souls, create our hearts anew. Lord over all ! thy countless creatures making The daily objects of thy pitying care — Not e'en the humblest in its path forsaking,— Warm thou our hearts, inspire our humble prayer. 158 MC PUER80N 3 POKMS. Wo plead no merit of our own before Thee— On no self-righteousness we urge our case — But, still, as oar great Refuge, we adore Thee, And plead the influence of redeeming grace. Hear us in Heaven, Thy eternal dwelling, Grant gracious solace to the laboring breast, And soothe our sorrow with the peace, foretelling Abundant entrance to our glorious rest. CHRISTIAN SYMPATHY. Every human bosom beareth Griefs that must be all its own, But the heart is cold that careth For itself alone. Not in solitary places. Not in deserts let me dwell ; But where cheerful human faces Wear affection's ypell. Would we but perform our tlut}^ — But fulfil the law of love, Earth would shine in moral beauty Like the world above. THE SOUL. 159 It is sin that makes us weary Of the objects balf-fl, This high prerogative insures, — Then why will she delay ? Why spurn for earth the abundant joy Which shall not feel the world's alloy, Nor fear the world's decay ? Vi on, GIVE THE GLORIOUS SPIRIT WINGS. 0, give the glorious spirit wings. That she may take her way Beyond the bounds of earthly things — The presence of decay ; And hold her high career along The regions that are glad with song And bright with upper day. For ain hath made the world so drear That she is but an exile here. It' ■ft 174 ilCPHERSON's POKMS. Instruct her to revere her powers As like to those above, Where rapture wings the endless hours, And all the clime is love. Instruct her so that she may soar, And soaring reach her native shore- Returning, like the dove, To that glad home, that heavenly ark, Her refuge when the skies are dark. EARTHLY HAPPINESS. If while we sojourn here we find An object of delight — A kindred heart — a cultured mind — An eye serenely bright, How briefly is the spirit blessed. How soon the phantom flies, And leaves the lone and joyless breast The thought that latest dies ! A few fond meetings of the heart, A few impassioned hours, A wild farewell — and then we part To weep our faded flowers ! Even if in Love's sweet ties we spend A long bright life of joy, The thought that this must surely end May much of bliss alloy. trut: happiness. But this cold region of deony Is not our final goal ; This load of perishable clay Can not detain the Soul. When life's refining fires are o'er, Her triumph-song may rise Upon her own immortal shore, Beneath her own glad skies. 175 TRUE HAPPINESS. Mortal ! on whose fancied bliss Falleth Disappointment's blight, Learn how much of peace we miss When we seek not joy aright. Though for happiness we sigh, Not from evanescent things Not from aught beneath the sky, But, from heavenly Hope, it springs, True, in Nature's sacred ties. In the eye with feeling bright, Much of hallowed rapture lies, Much of sanctified delight. Yet the sacred tics of love Can refined delight impart, But when He, who dwells above, Purifies the wayward heart. !f: 17G Mcpherson's poems. I to tl'is passinp; sceno have clung, Dreaming not its flowers could fade, I have wept the loved and young. In her last low dwelling laid. But though earthly hope has flown, Though I meet no kindred eye. Though I pass my days alone, Sweetest solare still is nin;h. Soon will mortal life be o'er. Soon, to dwell in bliss complete, On the glorious spirit-shore Pious love the lost shall meet. Brightly, from that distant rphere. Beams there on the soul a ray. Which, when hope is buried here, Still the drooping heart can stay. Worldlings hoard their treasures here. Christians in the realms of day, In that bright unsullied sphere Which shall never fade away. Therefore seek — with earthlv love — That which ever will endure ; Place thy thoughts on scenes above, Heaven's triumphant hope secure. X'RAYBR. 177 PRAYER. Father, sin is still oppressin;^, Yet to mercy's fount we flee, And, our wretchedness confessino-. Look for present help from thee : Send, oh ! send Thy choicest blessing, Set our drooping spirits free. If I Saviour ! sin is sorely trying ; But wert not Thou more sorely tried ? Therefore, all our wants supplying, Pity us— thou Crucified ! Meek in heart and self-denying, Keep us near Thy healing side. Comforter ! Who long hast led ua By the still small mystic voice, And in desert places fed us With the bread of Mary's choice ; Now, as oft aforetime, aid us, And instruct us to rejoice. Lord, the Father ! hear, Oh ! hear u». And thy sacred cause defend ; Lord, the son ! bo ever near us, Intercessor, Saviour, friend ; Lord, the Holy Spirit ! cheer us, And bo with us to tho end. >j ^li im IHi 178 MCPHERSON S POEMS. PRAISE. Great Being ! whose omniscient Eye, While wearied Nature sleeps, O'er all beneath the starry sky Untiring vigil keeps. To Thee, our Guide through dangers past, Our fathers' God and ours. Beneath whose smile our lot is cast, We consecrate our powers. To Thee we lift the glowing heart And bend the willing knee ; For Thou dost light and life impart, And we would worship Thee. For this fair world, for yon bright sun. For health and length of days — For all which Thou for us hast done, Thine holy Name we praise. Grant that Thy Saints may more and more Thy pure requirements see, — More humbly at Thy feet adore, Moro fitly worship Thee. SORROW MAY HER VIGILS KEEP. 179 For, sweet on Zion's sacred mount The voice of prayer to raise, Thy wondrous goodness to recount, Thine holy Name to praise. SOLICITATION. Glorious Author of Creation — Being holy, wise, and just ! Turn not from the adoration Of Thy creatures of the dust ; But, accept our poor oblation, And confirm our humble trust. In the conflict of temptation — In affliction's darkest hour, Thou hast been our great salvation. Van and rear-ward — shield and tower : Aid us in the extollation Of thy ever gracious power ! SORROW MAY HER VIGILS KEEP. Mortal from whose path has fled That which made existence bright. Tears may well be freely shed O'er thy star's extinguished light. i!m mm 180 mcpuerson's poems. Since thy friend has passed *• that bourne AVhenco no traveller returns," Mourn — but not as those who mourn One, whom hopeless love inurns. Sorrow may her vigils keep, Tears may o'er the lost be shed ; Heav'n in mercy lets us weep — Jesus wept o'er Lazarus dead ! AVHOM HAVE I BUT THEE? Almighty, whom have I but Thee On earth beneath, in heaven above? Thy Sovereign power created me, Thy spirit gave me life and love. If friendships of the world bo poor, And ill repay the trusting breast, Thy friendship, infinite and pure, Contents the heart with perfect rest. Yes ! when I rightly ask relief. Thine ear is open to my cry ; The world may fail to heed my grief. But Thou wilt succour from on high. As, when Thy chosen asked for bread, Sweet manna strewed the desert way, So Faith looks heavenward, and is fed, And guided to the realms of day. NEGIiECTKD MEUCIKS. NEGLECTED MERCIES. 181 O shame ! that in a " Christian Land" Where pure Religion's light is shining, There are who still that light withstand, The blessing which it gives, declining. O shame ! th?.t talents wisely lent Are still by most unwisely wasted, — The days of this short life, misspent, And mercy's living streams untasted ! Alas ! that such should be the case Of any who have heard the story Of Kim, the Lord ! whose wondrous grace Can make us meet for endless glory ! But pride, sek'-will, £ome favourite aim — And that dire sin — ^^Procastination''^- Make deaf our ears to virtue's claim And bar us from a great salvation ! Thou who art enthroned above, Groat source of this mysterious being, Whose nature and whose name is Love — Unseen of mortals, yet All-seeing ! Aid me, a creature of the dust. Whose soul is clogged with earthly leaven, To place with Thee my constant trust, That I may dw ill with Thee in Heaven. 1S2 MCPHERSON S P0EM3. III THE LIFE BEYOND. To think that all were starless night, When mortal life is o'er, Would quench the friendly, lingering light That cheers this pilgrim shore. For e'en while sunk in sordid gloom, We doubt the Sceptic's creed, And shrink from cold Oblivion's doom As from a hideous deed. Lives there a sojourner on earth Alive to due control, Who mourns not for the primal worth That blessed the human soul. Hence hope we for a sinless sphere, A land of life and light, Whose skies are always soft and clear, Whose bowers are ever bright. Oh, with what sighs, the wearied long To taste the living streams ; To sing the everlasting song. And realize glad dreams ! THE BETTER WORLD. 183 Yet wait t^oy man's appointed time, Augmenting still the fire That, caught from that unsullied clime, Will to its source aspire. THE BETTER WORLD. " There is another and a better world." •* Another and a better v/orld !" What comfort to the heart, What gladness to the troubled mind Does that high thought impart ! " Another and a better world !" — How pure the soul should be That dares in humble faith to hope That better world to see ! ,m From that immortal glorious sphere Beyond the darkened tomb, A single star, but dimly seen, May light us through the gloom. And, oh ! how soon would Reasca fail, Without that brighter ray. To guide us to the better world Along so dark a way ! 18i Mc piiehson's poems. I hear a deep mysterious voice That oft the heart has stirred ; It tells of songs of endless joy By mortal ears unheard ; It tells the Pibrim darklinix hero To fix his weary eye U])on that land of living light, That "better world J? on high I NOTES TO "DEVOTIONAL/ 1. This may be considored as illustr.ative of a remark in intro- cliK'tory paratrrapli of this section. The Foet essays to give a rcasoinng voice to inanimatu nature. 2. Another instance, that INIcPIierson's verse consists of simple heart-expressions, rather than of more pretentious elaborations. 3. Tliis reminds of the effects of a " sunburst " on the kndscape. Clouds break, j^lory streams down, and a pulse of admiration pervades nature. 4. A little melody, casting rays of light on the dark places of expe- rience. 5. A piece of fluent moral philosophy. 6. This • id verses succeeding, such as Immortality, Better "World, t^-c., — afibrd cheering contrast to the mournings and laments that precede. TEMPERANCE. The Temperance Reformation attracted tlie attention, and enlisted tlie sympathies, of McPhei-son, at an early period of his more mature life. One of his first literary eflbrts, of any pretension, v/as an address on the subject, read at a meeting]? in the locality where he resided. He frequently gave a ready aid in carrying out organiza- tions by means of varied services, although he lacked cither the gift or the habit, of extempore speaking in public. A reflective mind, of a moral tone, and vivid perception, would bo apt to adopt very fervid sentiments in relation to the effects of the common traffic in intoxicating lifiuors, and to the toleration and coun- tenance of such traffic, by those trom whom a different course of con- duct might be expected. In the verses which follow this notice, zeal for a gocd cause will be visible; — and the same quality is still more observable in verses which remain unpublished. In reference to Temperance, McPIierson took tlic higher position ; his creed was, that intoxicating liquors were non-requisite, — were always dangerous, — were frequently productive of varied evils, — and that the good of society demanded the total abolition of the common traffic in such articles. Who can gainsay the principle ? Principles m- ve slowly however, and a quarter of a century has, perhaps, effected as much as might reasonably be expected, when appetite and habit, and other influences, were arrayed in opposition to a question of moral and social improvement. The triumphant days, hoped for by the poet, are yet in the future ; — he had the honour, however, of being among those who saw and rejoiced in the prospect, and who faithfiilly strove for its early realization. Tr TEMPERANCE. THE PRAISE OF WATER. (extracts from a prize poem of that title.) (1.) The essence tortured from the vine Creates insatiate desire ; But water, Nature's choice and mine, Cools, quenches thirst's consuming fire. mn This, fresh from Heaven's creative hand, Descends profusely from the sky, To fertilize the barren land. And yiuld the world a rich supply. m "^ The native of the torrid zone, And he, in polar circle drear, Pleas'd with such beverage alone, Prize duly its refreshing cheer. The traveller on the desert waste Athirst and worn, imagines this As grateful to his eager taste As nectar to the groves of bliss. 188 MC PITKRSON 3 rOEMS. The product of tlio fiery art Would mock him, as the mirage, there, Pour hot Siroccos on his heart, And drive to frenzy and despair. But one sweet draught from some lone spring, O'er whicli the rippling north wind blows, Would recompense his toil, and bring A kind oblivion of his woes. So pants the hart for Judah's streams Rejoicing in their mountain course, So longs the pilgrim, tired of dreams, To drink at Joy's eternal source. Pure sparkling water yields a dower Of exquisite enjoyment — yields Fresh beauty to the rich man's bower, — Fresh vigor to tlie poor man's fields. The poor man hath a peer's delight, When Heaven descends in genial ram, To call his labours into sight, And bless him with his waving grain. Our own Acadia's Emblem dear. Spring's earliest gift to merry May, Receives full many an April tear. Before it blooms beside our way. THE PKAISE OF WATER. 18U Acadia, country of my birtli, Thy streams may not be known to Fame, 13ut those who love thee feel thy worth In all that human hearts can claim. Glad rivers course thy fertile vales, Bright lakes refresh thy verdant hills, Brooks sing to brooks along thy dales, Where clear springs run to rippling rills. Wo lack not water ! but wo thirst For those sweet streams that fill the mind ! For that deep Fount ordained to burst With mental blessings for mankind, fill ;:fiJSl Ah ! knowledge is a precious boon ; For Thought, our Angel, has desires. Wisely to be supplied and soon vVith that which feeds her glorious fires. Pure water ! even the name seems bliss ! lanthe, bring the draught I crave, That I may catch its smile, and kiss The cooling chrystal of its wave. What marvel that the Hebrew Chief — Who felt strong thirst's constraining spell, And sought kind nature's sweet relief, — Desired it fresh from Bethlehem's well. 190 MCPIIERSON*S POEMS. Brethren, when its simple cheer Prompts, as it may, the heart to sing, ■ Glad thought should seek her native sphere, And drink at pleasure's primal Spring. 1 Oh ! precious gift, who Lath not seen Its glory in the rainbow's hue, j And in the limpid sparkling sheen j Sent from the diamond drops of dew. i: 1 It takes a myriad wondrous forms — Now floats in mist along the vale— 1 Now soars in clouds — now falls in storms 1 Of rain, and snow, and sleet and hail. ^ Now, forced by man's arch-agent fire. It rises into giant Steam, V Takes mighty wings that doth not tire. |i: And measures distance as a dream. : 1 How sweet to bathe the fervid cheek. To cool the thought-encumbered brain, In some glad stream that seems to speak, Of buoyant health to every vein ! 1 1 How sweet to see it glance along In sunlit radiance to its rest. To listen to its murmured song 1 When eve is mirrored on its breast : i! 1 1 ii r THE PRAISE OF WATER. 191 The inebriate cannot prize its kiss, Its pleasant smile — its cheerful song ; For sinless nature veils her bliss From him that works his spirit wrong. Oh ! will he sink to baser ways, To swine-like wallowing in the mire— - By vitiation which obeys The tyrant call of low desire ? Can he fulfil a spirit's lot — Or represent the Eternal Mind ? The drunkard is himself a blot Disgrace and sorrow of hh kind 1 The charities that banish strife, The smiles that bid unrest depart. The harmonies of loving life, Possess weak hold upon his heart. His kindred — must we raise the veil, To let his fellow-men behold That mournful mother, weak and pale, Those children wretched, ragged, cold ? His step was music doubly dear. When he was kind and hope was nigh, But now they shrink from it in fear. And dread to meet the ** evil eye." 192 MCPHERSON S POEMS. But, all ! how changed his human voice. How chill and strange its warmest tone ! Oh fallen man ! is this thy choice — This dark transforming act thine own ? Our song would grow prolix to tell. How his example spreads his vice ; His followers know its power too well — Their dark experience should suffice. As are the sinful, were the pure, The glad, the free may bow to thrall, Let those that think themselves secure. Regard their standing, lest they fall. For ah ! the Circe of the bowl Beguiles in so occult a way, That men are neath her fell control. Ere hardly conscious of her sway. The drunkard, like a baleful star, Casts doubt and dread within his sphere ; He acts as if to rudely mar The blessings love considers dear ; To aggravate his mother's cares. And mock affection's fondest trust ; To bring his father's hoary hairs In silent sorrow to the dust. THE PBAISE OF WATEH. 193 His brothers, loved in life's young day, Confess not now his birthright ties, But pass him in the public way With burning cheek and down-cast eyes. His sisters — utter not the name, Which they, the good, must blush to tear ; It has become a word of shame To all to whom it should be dear. His friends ! but has the drunkard frieads ? Can friendship breathe in tainted air 4 Howo'er his course began, it tends To isolation, doubt, despair. Who would not fly with timely haste To stop him in his dread career, And bring him back to be replaced In lifo and love's protecting sphere ! Friends I Christians ! having shows That, fearing God, ye love your kind, Restore the drunkard to his own- Restore him to the man — the mind. Heav'n spares him that he may repent-— Then take him by the trembling hand, And woo him, from his evil bent, To strengthen Virtue's happy band. 0* I MCPHERSON S POUMS. Go seek him when the fiend has fled. When Eeason reasserts her sway, That ye may ta':e him from the dead. To walk in Wisdom's pleasant way. Go bid hira hope — he needs your aid Your effort, to support his grief, Yet bear him to his God, afraid To trust to any Iccs relief. So shall ye save a soul from deatli, And hide a multitude of sins — So gain the zeal-sustaining breath From him who smiles when virtue wine^. Pleased heaven shall shed her gentle light. In peaceful halos round your heads — And angel-guardians of the night Bring balmy sleep to bless your beds. Whilst, where the savage drunkard frowned, And famine waved her vulture wing, Contenting Plenty shall be found. And those that sorrowed, learn to sing. His wife, who watched for him in fear. While anguish rack'd her matron breast, Shall smile beside her evening cheer. And welcome home her husband-guest. THE PilAiSE OP WATER. His littlo ones shall run to greet The father they were taught to flee, Inspire hun with endearments meet, And prattle on the parent knee. His hoary sire shall bless his son — His mother clasp her ransomed boy— The grateful household, every one, And even the stranger, share his joy. Pure water ! were the cup confined To thy sweet influence alone, What ills would cease to vex mankind — What powers of darkness be o'crthrown. 195 Pure water I I rejoice to hear Thy low sweet murmurs in my dreams. For they have wings with which I near The music of the Eternal streams. When liagar vvatchcd hor fainting cliild. An angel showed a fountain nigh ; When Israel thirsted in the wild, A rock gave out the sweet r.upply. But mlraclos as great as these The wise observe around them wrought, Good yielded, evil turned aside, By ways for which they take not thought. I 4 196 KCniBRSaif S P0E5IS-. For Re, who gave the soul her dower. And taught her to revere her trust, Confers new mercies every hour — New forms of life from slumbering dust. The look still changes to a spring — The descr still has broad and quails, — The living stiil look up and sing. Because His goodness never fails. Why, man, abuse His gifts, and ioil To work yourself and others ill ; Enough the bounty of the soil, Ttie largess of the crystal rill. THE EFFORT. (to the patrons or the " olive LSA^•cn.") (2) The river of I>cath was still mighty and dark, When, praying that ita "waters might cease, Ye sent forth the Dove from the Temperance Ark>. With the * Olive Branch,' embleming peace. Althoagh ye have met with but one partial success. When compared with the talents employed, Ye have laboured for Him who has promised to bless. And whose smile is already enjoyed. IHE rREIiD. 197 Yc hiyo fi'fteJ some poor wretch from Ebriety's thrall, And restored him to freedom's repose ; Ye have rescued some spirit from Danger's appal, And dispelled the deep gloom of his woea. Ye have entered some homo which the language of startfe, And the elinins of oppression profaned, And have left it a scene where the kindness of life And the worsliip of God are maintained. Take courage, and, gath'rins; your strength for the fight, With the Demon of Drink and his woe, Press onward, difFasing additional liglit O'er the way in which mortals should gc. Your reward, which is richer than gold, ye shall find In the Disenthralled 's blessing a«d love — In the sweet sense of having done a:ood to mankind. And the Voice speaking peace from almve. SONG OF THE FREED. We are free— the strong chains of our liondage are brokes. Our banner of triumph is broadly unfurled ;; And the halo of smiles that we bear is the token That we live a new life and enjoy a neiv world. We have turned with ilrm souls from the cup that decoyed us, To the sweet gushing waters of hillside and lea ; 19S MC PJIKKSON S POKMS. We have burst from the Fpoll that had well nigli flest roved u?. And re-entered the home.-; of th(i happy and free. We are free — from the arasf) of tlie hideous Constrictor, That entices his prey with tlio basfilisk eye, And in each of our homos tlie ahtd Oflance of a victor Carries joy to the hearts that were ready to die. Our wives that were long and unkindly neglected, Look forward with hope to the bright years to be ; Our children, tliat iihrunk from tlieir sires, are respected. As the proud happy heirs of the ransomed and free. We are free — and bright flowers are blooming around i^s. Our pathway is strewn with rich gifts from above ; For the beautiful Spirit of Temperi.nee has found us, And restored us to much of life's Eden of Love. We are plenteously fed by the trenius of Labor, With the sweet fruit that teems on our liberty tree ; We are blessed with the kindness of friend and of neighbo; And content with our lot, because sober and free. We have pledged to bo slaves to the tempter no longer, We have turned from the mocker that smiles to destroy. And our fair phalanxed band shall wax stronger and stronger. Till the round ransoned world swell the anthem of joy. Heaven smiles on our efforts — our banners are brighten in or On hill-side and valley, on island and sea, We pray that the trutli shal go forth as the lightning, Till the wb.ole human race raise, the Song of the Free I vivoJ n?. tor. jtccl, le. 1 lis, RiauT priibKyKiiANcr. 199 luciiT rEPvSEVFJi.vxcj': (^To Tin: r.vTRoxs of the "olivk uhancii.") (3.) Go forth, with tho Etiihlein and Motto of Peaco, And visit tlie homes of our huid, Till the sorrows that fl<»w from Intemperanco cease, At the touch of Sobriety's wand. Go fortli ill a spirit d(^torinlned, yet meek, To adiuoni^li, to ])ity, to soothe, To strengthen the strong and encourage the weak, In the search after wisdom and truth. >ighbo- jer, >strov, stronger, " joy. tenini; I'ree I Aye, forward, confiding in ITim who looks down On your poorest endeavour in luve ; For lie, liaving sanctioned your mission, will crown Your efforts with aid from above. If ye ever should think of rehixing your wing, As ye faint with the toil of the day, Contmeplato the hearts that made happy, will sing When the Cause that ye plead shall bear sway. If ye rescue but one from the maelstrom of vice, From the pit of the morally slain. Even one, re-illumined and freed, is of price, And your labour has not been in vain. h 200 ucprerson's poems. But forward, and marshal the hosts of the land In the phalanx that never shall fall, Till llio f(je feol the touch of Sobriety's wand, And the triumph ho eo!iood by all ! TK?dPERANCE. The man who ?!triv(;th for the inns;tory Is temperate in all tliin^-s — di,-;inolined To au<;ht that can eoiiiaminnte tlie mind, Pla(Md of brow — lord of himself, and free. Blest witli tlio glori(.iis prlyilt'i;(i — " To Be," lie is most careful to preserve his heart From every snarin'j; l)]cm(li:^hinent of art, And all excess, which is idolatry. For what is lia' to him who is the slave Of Apj'etite, or unallowed (lesire ? The Good control the lusts tliat are tlie grnvo Of human peace and joy ; the good aspire ; And recognizing Virtue's high pursuit, Seek AVisdoni's tree and share iiiunoitd fruit.. A MONARCH. A monarch, resting from the fight. And fainting on the battle even, Deferred his own intense deiiidit. And gave the precious draught to heaven. THE MODERATE DRlNKIiU. thou, my brother, hear tlie call — Ik'waro tlic inobriiiliiig w'lr.Q, And, bursting tVoi:) the tcniptor's thrall, Propitiate the Power Diviuc. Escape from Folly's mildew breath, From Hinfiil Pleasure's charnel air ; To tamper with disease, is dcatli ; To sill against the soul, despair. 201 i I Thou hast a bettor son'>o than lust, A nobler life than Passion's fiio rise, indignant of the dust, Be free, and, day by diiy, aspire. THE MODERATE DRIXKER. (4.) Friend, thou may'st hate a cause of bbamc, And feel too stroiii?: to fall, — But he wlio boars the dvij':,:ard's name, And gropes in night's aytpal, Was once as conlident and proud. And seorned to think that he could bow To so debused a thrall. But mark tiio in-tructivc sequence well — Tie trustoil to himself, and fell. m 202 lie PIIERSON s rop:M3. Allured by Fashion's specious guilo, He sought tlie cheating bowl, And, lur'd by mocking Pleasure's smile, liesigncd his self-control ; Then basely, wildly, madly drank, Till unconsulted reason shrank In deep eclipse of soul ; And he whom love had blessed, became An object of contempt and shame ! Alas ! how fearfull}'' deranged The likeness of his Lord ! The " human face divine " how changed, How forfeit high rcv/ard. His mind, onco toned to cheerful thought, Became a fearful waste, where nought But hideous fancies rise ; And gibbering fiends, with ghastly glare. Whisper delirium and despair. 0, shun the rock where lie was wrecked,* The snare by which he fell ; Preserve true manhood's scif-respcci, And honor virtue w^^ll. False joy may have a syren breath. But ah I her feet go down to death, Her steps take hold on hell. Then leave, Oh, leave her slippery way ; Seek virtue's path, and reason's ray. THE MAncii or tiis drunkat^d. 203 Reflect, bow false tlie lurid light That centres in the howl ; Reflect, how ruinous the blight Of Error's fell control. Then use the boon of life's brief hour To keep still pure the glorious dower Of life's best life— the soul ; Blessed in thyself, by heavenly plan, Be blessing to thy fellow man. Feel'st thou the bands are waxing strong ? Assert thy freedom 7iow I And stand amidst the ransomed throng, With heaven-aspiring brow. The good will take thee by the hand, And greet thee to their happy band, And hear thee breathe their vow ; Oh, turn from folly's dark'ning way. To wisdom's bright and bright'uing day. THE MARCH OF THE DRUNKARDS. They come froni^'palacos and halls — They come fiom festal shrines. They come from bare and joyless stalls, Whero meagre famine pines. 204 510 rilEHSON S POEMS. They come to break tlio kindly ties, To cloud the world with woe, — To mock the o-roans, tlicy cause to rise, The tears, they cause to flow. Can music rise where drunkards tread ? Can sounds but those of fear ? Their shuddering world is one of dread -Deep sigh and scalding tear. "Wronged suQbrlng woman's maniac cry- Weak childhood's piteous wail — The broken heart's last withering sigh, lliso o'er them on the g;de. The wide world hath few forms of woe Like those which haunt their air ; The dark abyssmal depths below, Give type of their despair. Men speak of loving life's sweet ties, Of glorious claims of soul, — Such have slight beauty in the eyes AVhich seek the blighting bowl. They hear of Nature's drink divine, The chrystal from the spring ; Why ask that spirit of the vino That holds the spirit's sting ? hemoxsti^ance. 205 They take the luring draiiglit, designed To drown all high desire, And madly quoncli rGir.orsG of mind With floods of liquid fire. They change the *' human face divine, To loathsomeness and shamo, They desecrate the spirit's shrino, And spurn the soul's high aim. If They bear a galling weight of chains That press them to their graves, Yet serve the demon that maintains Dread cmplie o'er his slaves. Oh I stop, nor steep your souls in crime. Nor earn an outeai-'t name, Nor madly seek, with varied woo, The drunkard's doom of shame. REMONSTRANCE. (5.) Forbear, ye Mamraonitos, to ply The man-debasing trade, Wliich, rife with crime's condemning dye, Is active to degrade. Forbear, for filthy lucre's sake, The higher laws of heaven to break. \\ 20G MC rUERSON 3 P0KM9. How vast the sum of human woe, The ills that ache the heart ; From wholesome plants and genial fruit, Distilled by wicked art ; The spirit forced from genial grain Has men in many myriads slain. \V here'er Heaven's blessings are abu?ed There is no smile for peace ; Wliere'er the liquid fire is used The better feelings cease ; And lust and wrous; and cruel strife Shut out the charities of life. But ah, the soul, the deathless soul, O'erwhelmed with sinful gloom, Unmeet to reach yon blissful goal Shall dread a ponal doom ; — Mn.y sink in deep self-sought despair — The victim of Corruption's snare ! THE FIELD. The free must arm for more effective war Against the demons whom their souls abhor. Rise, fellow men 1 the banners which we keep, For moral Freedom, brook no idle sleep. -"^^^ ABJUllH TIIS BOWL. Ii07 To rest from action ere our field be won, Is to forego, the good already done — To lose the auspicious day — the hour of prime I And give the Spoiler fearful rallying-time ! ! To breast the billows of so vast a sea Of opposition, good men should agree. Ours be the ear responsive to the call, To save the drunkard from perdition's thrall ; Ours be the eye, that while it loves the light, Fails not to see the poor inebriate's night ; Ours be tlie unwavering, persevering part, And ours the generous, genuine Temperance heart, That nobly vigorous, faints not in the way, O'crcomes all obstacles, makes no delay ; And deenip the greatest of its conquests small, Compared with triumphs which may rescue All ! ii m ABJLTwE THE BOWL. Abjure the bowl — the tempting bDwl Which lends but frantic joy, And is not " wreathed with flowers of soul JJut cliains that oft destroy. It is to poor deluded man As Circe's * up of yore, And desecrates his mortal ppan With ills unknown before iicpiir.nsoN's POEMS. Stranze that a LeinQ; half divine, Pcssossed of dcathlcs.s trust, Should inadlj t;ury at tlio wine And ci'ovel in tho dust I Indul,i^e thy lauda^do dosiro For flights mid purer air, But bow ?iot to the liquid fivo Thiit fccathos wiih fell despair. J*»: As thoTi wouldst broak ()ppresslo:\'s ch:r,:i, Spurn Appetite's control; If thuu ait free from darkening stain, IVcservc " the wbitenGE] of thy soul. n Let not so dark, so f<)ul a l)l;:^ht^ Obscure thy earthly span, Assert in heuven- inspiring might Tlio dignity of man. THE niOGEESS OF TEMPERANCE. The cry of mortal misery wont up From myriads drugged with desolation's cup; "Weak tender babes, and mournful motliers pale, The drunkard's victims, raised tlieir piteous wail ; Heaven felt compassion fur their bitter woes, And tho bright Star of Temperance avoso. •iflE ?:iOGHC3!! OF I'KMPDRANCt. 209 Then erowt.ls, tliouirjjt l)3t, vi'tun.e'l with sfladdenino: sont";;, And brought now p3ac3 to ho.-^onis ontniQjod long ; Tiicn proved man's heart tlie li^2,ht of woman's truth, While woman found thi; lover of her yontli ; Tiion little children, old in grief and care, First learned to smile, and breathe Affeetion's air { While fervent '(ope, and Poaee, the tinud dove, Returned with t'lonty, at the call of Love, To make the rescued spirit doubly gay, And guide it, r/nigijig, on it.i heavenwar;! way. If mortal man may liear the voice of fame, The moral champion hatli the Cov-emost claim 5 But ho, so bold in every righteous cause. Is apt to shrink from popular applause ; His heart best pays him — he hath inward storo-— And, Heaven approving, what can Earth give more? False fame may stalk with armies in i's train ; True, bids each strive for blessing, not in vain. The world may raise the martiril victor's name, No suffering.^ dim the moral hero's aim ; And, wh^n the laurel haih foregone its bloom, Sweet flowers of memory strew the crood man's tomb. What though no column pointing to the sky, May tell the pilgrims whore his ashes lie, His name, in honour kept, from day to day, — May live, when towering cenotaphs decay. Some will have wealth, though wrung fioni misery's grasp, And forced from famine in its final gasp, Add hence — -Distilleries and their adjuncts, rise. Fountains of ill — -mocking the angry skies. Belching thick blackness o'er the realms mind. 210 MC I'HERSON S rOEMS. O'er health, and Iiopefs, antl homes of humanlfind. jMuch hatli been done ! but piteous still the caso Of countless myriads of the human race. Day dawns upon us faintly from afiir, And slowly rises llefoi uiation's Star I That star shall culminate, that Moral Day Extend its hcalins; animating sway ; Peace, like a river of refreshing flow ; And smiles of joy succeed the tears of woo ! dacular voices, heard in many a clime. Proclaim the auspicious movements of the time. Faith lifts her eye, and Hope's angelic wing Ripples the waters of Recovery's spring ; Improvement's flag is gloriously unfurled ; The bow of promise spans the sufFerlng world ! Much hath been done ; — but what stern toil remains Herculean task, to break the drunkard's chains — Control false custom — free the moral slavif — And raise the soul from 31ammon's iron 2;rave ! But who will falter? — wiio withhold his name To save a brother from the paths of shame 'i O Sons of Freedom I well niio;ht bitter tears Bewail the carelessness of thoughtless ye? s;. Proceed in faith impenetrably strong. Cheered by sweet hope witli a celestial song, — And though the victory make long delay, Be found still constant — still in duty's way. Head, heart, and hand, should be united now, — The strong, the weak, to speed the Temperance plough. Gold is not spared to dazzle and deceive, Give ye of yours to strengthen and retrieve. THE rPsOGRESS OF Ti:MPJ-::K.\NCt\ 211 Men plaeotl on Ingh, lilco watch-towel's, ought to show True light and guidance to the crowds l)olow ; ]3ut crowds, the sinews of the world, should feel Qliat they, tliemselves, can help or mar tlieir weal — - Can shun the pathways of disastrous fate And rise superior, tho' of low estate. But in high place, is low example, too ! Which tens of thousands may have cause to rue. Love ye y ur neighbours, Ministers of Peace, Who hold aloof and see men's woes increase ? Siy is your faith evinced, your pity proved, Your duty done, if ye pass by unmoved — Some poor weak wretch who asks your aid to rise. From dark abasement, to be good and wise ? Shrink ye from contact with such men as these ? Shrank your Great Master from earth's dire disease? Unglove your white hand, seek the poor man's shed. And raise him, temperate, from the living dead. But go beyonJ, and point him to the skies. And lure him kindly, till ye gain the prize. Withhold no longer — ^join the Temperance cause, And stand true Champion for its righteous laws ; Think not of supererrogation here — Your Christian duties call you to our sphere ; Give name — example — varied talent — all — And work, for blessings, if ye preach, like Paul ! I iiic PHt!:ii'?o:; 3 poems. TEMPERANCE AND PEACE. As picrocth Day's l»vi,2;lit orb, tlio p]oom Tiiat n!2;litly o'or t'ho earth provails, E'en so shall Tomnoraneo Truth iUnme That darkness which tlio soul assails; That worse tlian Sty<];ian glooui, dispersed TJy Christian Chanty's pure ray, "TIio wondcrinr!; world siiall hail the burst Of moral Freedom's glorious day .! Oh I haste the briirht the happy time When man shall war no more with man, When all on earth in every clime Shall sliare Salvation's i^racious plan ; When hearts, Iloav'ns altars, now profaned, Shall duly l^i^el their priceless worth, "When Paradise shall he re2;ained, /i.nd, o;aee more, anofcl;^ .walk on earth! NOTES TO "TEML'ERANCE," (I.) A small prize, OiTorcd fc* llic best |tO('m on the Piibjcct of Temponuice, resulted in the verses ciitUIcd " rniise of Wutor." Tin* arii;;Ie was ])riiite(l in a piuuidilct t\nm, iind ratlier cxton'-ivcl y cir- culated. The cxtiMC'ts jziven coiiinin ii'juut li:i!f llio i>oeMi an publiolied. It was oiie of t!iose eilurts w'loso money reward was by no means coramousui'uto whli tlio labor and talent required for iu production. (1.) Povor il yoa^^ n!]jo a p(^no;li!'al d'^votol to Temperance, nnil nppropriately desi;j:uat id tiio " Oiive BraDcli/' was pulilis!ied in Hali- fax. It was cdiicd, for some time, by JNIiss Sarah llcrhert ; — Jolm Mc'Phersou occasionally contrii)uted to it* cohimus. Ver VwS entitled " Tho Elfori," and oilier piecci in tins ijcclion, were writleii fur tUo •' Oiivc Brunch." (.3.) Tho virtuo of perseverance has been found of special con- sequence in Tem])eran;'c ; i; i; a .irrcat requisite in all jrood causes. The linc^ to w'lt -li tlits note huo reference, were among those written for the '' U.ive li..;neii." (4.) Moderate dvir.kino', as a Pi;pport of the liqr.or frafTic, and as aironliun' tiMirotatiou to cxccsi'!, iiu.s frc(jucntly been u subject of Temperance atlvocaiL's. (3.) This, and othor pieces in the collection, and more especially Fomo liner, not printed, nii-iht bo understood as jiaraphrascs on some very cmpliatii' |);issm;4'cs of Scriptni-e. rticPlicrson ,vas a student of JScrijjtiire, well inelin(Ml to bo iuiiuencod by its teaehin;;s on tbemed whieh he adopted. If any snp])o-;e tl-at liis zeal was evinced by over- warm cxpressior., they may Iind that tiie sacred writings gave good preecdeut for moi'O eariie.-;t reinousiranoe. un( Lei arc r nol alt Na ma Ot rel "I wi! as th< \V( an ar sc ad el( su til Cl cl S tl OCCASIONAL. INCLUDINO riECES DESCRIPTIVE, DIDACTIC AND PERSONAU The term " Occasional," as applied to literary efforts, is generally understooil as Kii^nifyin'? those literary products, which, instead of beinfj parts of series, or in accordance with some pre-arranged plan — are rather the effects of sonic passing thought or suggestion. The verses wliich follow have been so designated, because they did not appear to come distinctly under any of the preceding sections, although they may approach one or other of them at several points. Many scenic allusions may recall the division entitled " Lovo of Nature." Those relating to the household and the family circle, mav remind of the ve>'se3 more immediatelv " Domestic and Social." Others are fraught with incidents related to the "Personal." Tho religious characteristic so prevails as in some places to suggest tho " Devotional " classification : while moral and reformatorv features will be found to link tho section with that of " Temperance." Tims tho closing division of Mcl*horson's poems may be deemed, as in some degree, harmonizing the other parts. The hope is that they may convey both pleasure and proiit ; that the volume vlii bo welcomed in many circles as conducive to tho utility which w'as among tho poet's fondest ambitions, as well as to tho enjoyments arising from innocent sources, to which his mind was so sensitive. The blending of exterior comeliness or beauty with usefulness* seems specially provided for in the works of the Creator : the stream adorns while it fertilizes the smiling valley ; thr ^ ' go is delicately elegant, as if grass and grain were intended as much for ornament as sustainment; the clouds which waft refreshing vapours hither and thither, pi-csent, in form and colour, objects of great attraction to tho cultivated vision ; — Ho who crowneth the year with His goodness, clothes the lily ot tlio field in textures which outvie the robes of Solomon. Rational nature, surely, might learn lessons from this, so that boneficcnce might become one of the daily attributes of intellect. 'J*' ^l■\ .'r-v \ «-- OCCASIONAL. CHEERFULNESS. (I.) The outward world is cheerful — the pure air And its gay winged inhabitants rejoice, — The flocks and herds that make the hills their choice As they the wold's luxuriant herbage share ; — The winds and waters have a low sweet voice, And breathe the same soft murmurs everywhere. All things seem grateful to the Sovereign care That erst pronounced the new Creation — " Good! " And bade the soul be happy, if it would, In that sweet garden which He made so fair! Light laughs upon the billows, wliich seem glad. Making wild music round the good ship's way ; O man, immortal, why art thou so sad. Whilst all things else are innocently gay. m .1, ■1 The outward world is cheerful : Beauteous flowers (That yield their sweetness to the murmuring bee, Their perfume to the winds that fan the lea, And woo the village maidens to their bowers, To pass the golden noon in guileless glee) — ■ 10* '119 MC PIirUiSON 3 POEMS. Burst into bloom beneath the genial showers ! Wliil-t — wlicro Acaiba's April day-orb pours, T!iroagii pailhig clouds, lii.s iiinru than April beams liy wood-nynjpli-nouks and naiad haunted .streams Gay fluttering myriads sport away tlie hours. Tbe outward world is chL-erful ; — Nature's brow Is wreathed witii ra})!:ai-e as a face with smiles When first chaste love lias sealed its saered vow, And breathed its Eden o'er the heart's jxreen isles. The outwnrd world is cr.eerful. Man, alono Of all heaven's eresiures, wlllfally repines. And, like a peevish i:Ci)ool-boy, Irets and whines, And vents his heart-wrung anguish in his groan, Because, though yonder genial sun still shines, Ills Maker's will accords not with his own ! 01) ! were his principles of action s-hown In wise observances of Nature's laws, And right ^ubniission to the great First Cause, How would he thrill at Rapture's mystic tone ! did he yield to jmeh serene control, What springs of grateful happiness would start, From deeply pious impulses of soul, And wells of gladness gushing in the heart ! Too huuililo for the festive halls of Pride- Too irontle for the ieaiousies, so rife Among the lucre-loving sons of strife— ^The Enchantress, Cheerfulness, loves to reside Whcry, 6»lreains decay. Though all earthly couifort fail thee, God will be thy constant stay. Heavenly hope shall sweetly chBM(t VISIONS. Fair Maiden of the lustrous eye, And pale, pure intellectual brow,- Beloved of the days gone by, Who re art thou now ? ■ ^'] Thy smile was like a livincj beam Upon the desert of my breast ; But thou hast gone — and I must dream In wild unrest. Unsunned by that celestial eye, Uncheered by that persuasive tone, Unblessed by that responsive sigh^ I feel alone. When thou, my <>ontle love, wast near, 3Iy heart was iigiit, my spirit glad ; But thou hast left tiiis darkened sphere. And I am sad. Yet, in my visioho of the night I feel as if I could rij jiae ; For I behold thy form of light. And hear thy voice. UfTOTTP TH^rOTIT?. 223 TInu fsocmost of the spirit-laml. Anil sp.'iakest of that world above, Whose bv.vurs are l)fi;j;!it, wlioso air is bland— Whose life is luve. Wfill — T will pass as best I may The years th:it seem so drear and long, And then, l.iy down the load of clay And join thy son^. i '1 I ■'« KIOIIT TIIOUuIITS. I askel thj S.mi'I'-, SIeo;T. (That is so like to death, PulsL'lesj!. and j)as8i«»«de.«-s, and deep, In all but mortal bieath.) il ,i n ^Miat tlj:n[^s dost ihon lidi^ild In earrh, or sea, (u- sky? What radiant mysteries untold Uiifure thy dreaming eye? 'I ^1 Sleep seomM to nn?wjr — " Much Fro'.n wakin^r eves eoiicealt'd, Of sue!) as t may tell, and such As may not be revealed." 224 jicpherson's poems. What seest thou, Sleep? " A pure immortal shore Where those who wake on earth to weep Shall wake to weep no more.'* What Jost thou yet behold ? ' ' A still more glorious dream— A city having streets of gold Beside a living stream." Who dwells therein, O Sleep ? •' The ransomed of the Lord, Who, brought through tribulation's deep, Enjoy the great reward. With these a glorious band Who were not doomed to die — The bright ones of the spirit land — The dwellers in the sky." Again what seest thou ? " The throne of the Great King, Before whom men and angels bow And strike their harps and sing." What hearest thou, O Sleep ? Songs of enraptured praise Which high intelligences keep, And sainted spirits raise. THE ETENING SHADES OF LIFE. 225 The burthen of their song Is — " Holy is the Lamb, And might and majesty belong Unto the great I AM ! " h' " THE EVENING SHADES OF LIFE." When day's last gleam of glory dies, And Evening breathes her tranquil tone, I love to stray from human eyes, And pass sweet memory's hour alone. Morn sjDeaks of prospect dear to youth, And wears a countenance of cheer, But Evening tells a tale of truth That sad experience sighs to hear. Our course began with hopeful trust In kindred love and friendly aid ; But, lo ! our idols dashed to dust, Our altars, trampled and decayed ! While spectros of departed years Flit round us with regretful sighs, And move the wearied heart to tears For lost delight and broken ties. 4 The wise, whose hearts had ceased to yearn, Forewarned us of the world's deceit ; But generous youth is loath to learn That life's fair aspect hides a cheat. 220 lie PIIZRSON a rOEM3. Yt't, w'lcn w) v!s? to r.nn'nirs s^'ilj, .\\h\ u.^k tti '^\^i ni) |»!(>iiii.'CMl fk.c'ii, ]'3x|jL'r!eiu:L' lift^ the; ^ll'llill;^ vc.I, Autl bii'^lK.'S t'ju irustin,^ vxtiiu'ss cjcs. Untutored in tlrj w irM's cnl I \viy5!, And hopoful in it.s iin.flf.rt'd ti»no, The young and j )you.s liL-ait oWys Too off, no ini|)ulsL' but its own. It looks at will on cloudless sk'.cs, That lovo would woc'p to see o'orcast, And r. (Hilly dooms that smiling eyes, A\ ill lend it suii^hlnc; to the last. Tut ((ill I that cavtldy tlionght could rango On sulijjcts free trim griet"\s a[i))al I) Tinje flies, and hiin'jjs a mournful chaniro— You;li fa ies and fetds ail! etion's thiall. IIovv blest, then, he that timely, here Looks fosw n-d to his heavenly re.-t, ;?jt'fore " the evening sliados" a;)[)ear, And life forgoes its early zest. Cbis vex'd pvobatlonavy state, Whoso hours of rapture seem so brief, s not the sport of penal fate — Not all a pilgrimage of grief. Miough oar Mi's Ion I votaries shall see Their gold grow dim with tiiiu's alloy, [iho truth that m ikes the captives free Imparts au emiicssness of joy. EErnLDixa t:is promissd lant). 227 Dicii :)Li):x:; t:i:^ i':i:)mis:::) land. OI)'flicnt to iris vwv^y vnw — His yiAL'v':; hi-li^ b^^liij. t— 'J'lio Proplict xtudil (111 Pisjali's brow An.l viewed t^o Land oF Rest ; To wiiioh through hn;y and Wi-ary years Amivlst alt'ornato h<' - and fears, Jehovair.s (Av -od ; And wlileli, with ng streams Was daiiy prescu. . ..^ci- dreams. ''■ J The dlmo of many a mountain sccno 3Ia^n'.Ii:;ently jvraiid, Thy ernn;3 of bright pironnial green, Uy f.-igrant brec^.;s fannM, The elimj denied to I.•^rae^^s fear.? Till faith s'lOLihl have resigned her fears, Was gloriously at hand — And, far and near, enriched Ins sight With one wide prospect of delight ! a J>at sa.lno?s o'er his pp'r't foil, Ai 1 te.us Wjre [».'n:ij to start; For leelings, tliat at times rebel, Surcharged W.^ h\i\\\ii\\ liearL : IIj kn.'W tii.it ere thj !i u^t lu leJ Cuuld reae'.j the land before hiiu spread, llii spirit iilioald deparL : H "V^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I ! S a 1.8 1.25 1.4 16 < 6" ► i? / Ptiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4S03 228 IICFUEBSONS POEMS. He saw it with his failing eyes, But might not rest beneath its skies. The thought that he should sit at last Within its verdant bowers, And, all his weary wanderings past, Repose among its flowers — The thought that still from day to day Had nerved his heart throughout the way, And oft renewed his powers, — That thought, the nursed of years, had flown, And left his heart a sombre tone. But — turning to his Father — Lord ! The Patriarch-prophet bowed In meek submission to the word, That sometimes smites the proud. He felt how frail was mortal dust. Confessed his last sad trial just. Shook oflT the darkening cloud— And giving up his wayward will. Adored Eternal Goodnes^ still. The hope that had his soul sustained Along the Desert's way. The hope of better life, remained. To cheer his latest day ! He knew that, though he might not sleep Where Hebrew maids at eve would weep And Gentile pilgrims pray. 1 80 BRIEF IS LIFB. 229 His spirit, ready for her flight, Should dwell with Jacob's God in li2:ht. own, He might not join the songs of Praise, The grateful and the deep, That Israel's rescued sons would raise On many a starlit steep — But, he may hold sublimer Lyre Aiding the blest celestial choir. Who heavenly anthems sweep ! So, bursting from the ties of Time, He sought the glorious spirit-clime. SO BRIEF IS LIFE. Death equals ! Yes, the rich, the poor. Whom little vulgar aims divide. Must all the same sad change endure And darkly moulder side by side ! So brief is life — so insecure ! So vain a thing is human pride ! The rock of Tyre — the proud remains That o'er Zenobia's city lie, — The rubbish on a thousand plains Where once a world sent up its cry,— All prove that man, despite his pains. Must loose his hold on earth, and die. 280 MC PHERSON S POEMS. Tlio wrcfc!) w\n iitiaOs his wiM his god, Til J sufFjiliig outcast whom hu spurns, Alike, liuMcatii the vallry'.s clod The liouiy sexton, Time, iimins : — The ditteriuii: weahh (or \\hic!i we ijkd And bow to eriuie, to dust letuins. Confining inSnite desires To this poor perishable scene, "NVe miss what most the heart rer[uires— • That peace unspeakably Fcrene, "With which the Lord of Life inspires The wise wlio on His mercy lean. Here, Sin obscures and saddens all ; Here towering minds to meanness stoop ; Here private wrongs and outrage, gall More deeply than misfortune's swoop ; Here vile detraction' "ows fall — The wicked thrive- ^ug righteous droop. But when our baseless hopes are o'er — When ;ar.llii-s of our jrl »rious truif-? AVliy «l) \V2 WisliJiii'd wnr'.j djlay U.i:il tjc "rrave djiiuiiJs our dust? THE PRISONEU OF THE BASTILE. Unbar not now my dungeon door- Set not the lielples>« free ; Yo cannot youth and hopu restore, And \v!iat i: light to me? y.y heart tVoiii every huaian tic Long yoar.-< agi was wrenched : Then nuiv the old and friendless dio Whore life's best lights were quenched. I They led him forth ; — ho Telt the air- Beheld the earth and sky — But nature soem'd no longer fair To his delightless ejo. IIv3 wandered on, but saw no faco At wlilch his bosom thrilled ; lie sought his own — another ruco The old possessions filled. 232 UCPHERSONS POEMS. " Take — take me back !" the old man said ; The world is dark and strange — None live to shield my aged head,— I cannot bear the change. Let that bright orb the world illume For earth's tyrannic lords, But give me back the place of gloom That with my fate accords. My soul was torn from beings dear, At manhood's busy stage, What now, alas ! remains to cheer . My dim and joyless age ? I speak, yet hear no fond reply- No kind consoling tone ; I gaze — yet meet no kindred eye ;— ! give me back my own. If I could weep, perchance this gloom This frenzy might depart, — But quenchless care seems now to doom My outraged human heart. Affliction's wild, yet sweet relief, Has not been mine for years, And worn by uncompanioned grief These eyes have now no tears. Then take me back ; — the dungeon's gloom Hath so familiar grown That light were but a stranger doom Than life liy'd out alone. DREAM. 23a Farewell ! ye prove not all too cold To mourn for such as I, Farewell, ye leave the poor and old Whose hour of rest is nigh. DREAM. "I had a dream that was not all a dream/'—BTRON. " that for me some home like this would smile."— Campbell. Methought I had a pleasant dream, Of scenes, in which I loved to stray And find the objects of my theme, From sunny morn till close of day. While hope, that sometimes comes to cheer The poor man's path with cheerful gleam, Half whispered — " If a friend were near This dream would not be all a dream." A cottage veiled by waving pines That taste had left to please the eye— . A home that held some sacred shrines, Looked upwards to a smiling sky. Farm-buildings, barn, and lattice near, Screened from the north by circling trees ; An orchard there— a garden here — And gay flowers fragrant to the breeze. 284 iccraisiuBON*s feO^MS. Green waving fields of grass and gra'n. Rich pastures cropped by peaceful kinc— And placid flocks that clothe the swain, Bade frugal labor cease to pine. *• that some home like this were mine " — Burst from my full heart like a prayer— What cheering San-beams then wouM shlno Upon my dark cold niglit of care ! ' ' Then, whrn the fire of Genius flamed, And tluillo.1 the proudly nonseinus soul, The eagle, Thought, might sonr unblamed, And spurn de[)rossion's dull control. Then love, while circled by its own, Would meet their g:izo with hnppicr eyes, And breathe a more ec.st.-itic tone And balm inhale fiom briuhtcr skies. INVOCATION TO SLEEP. Balmy power ! whoso silken w'ng Jiulls the wearied frame to resf. Coma, O come, and sweetly bring Sjlace to my acliiag breast. Tjtl anX Firtiin2 fjel tliy balm Sofrly o'er their senses ste;:! ; let Sorrow, know thv calm, Want and 2coe, thy soothing feel. I08T AT 8AI, 53n Let me in thy silent bower Taste of Lethe's fabled stream- Feel thy sweet oblivious power, Sleep, without a restless dream. no cs. \ Or if dreams my couch attend, Let them wear no sable frown ; But the raptured spirit lend Such as sleep with blessings crown. Balmy sleep ! w'.nso sllkon win.:; Lulls tho wearied frame to rest, Coma, come, and swjutly bring Solace to my aching breast. LOST AT SE>. (t) "When thy daring bark departed O'er the waste of waters blue, And AfFviction's tribute started For the gentle and the true, "We expected soon to greet thee, To thine own, thy native slioro,— But on earth we may not meet thee. For thy mortal race is o'er. 2:6 MCPHSRSOW S POEMS. Oft, from vision'd sleep awaking, Bade we yon dim taper burn ; Oft, the sleepless couch forsaking, Watched we for thy hoped return. Long ere darkling doubt assailed us, Friendship at thine absence wept ; And, when life's last solace failed us, Love his aimless vigils kept. Yet, amidst our tribulation. One sweet solace still remains. In the light of that salvation Which the wearied soul sustains. Though we still must sadly mourn thee As the lov'd and lost of Time, Have not guardian angels borne thee To their own immortal clime ? Freed we trust art thou from sadness. In a world exceeding fair ; And we hope that, crowned with gladness, We may breathe its balmy air ; We would greatly joy to greet thee E'en on this sepulchral shore. But we hope that we shall meet thee. Where the happy part no more ! THE SmPWBXCKEP. 237 THE SHIPWRECKED. 3, As Day's last parting light was shed I sat beside the deep, And thought upon the shipwrecked dead That in its waters sleep ; The brave, the fair, the young, the old— The rich with all their shining gold. O'er whom its billows sweep ! Beneath the dark insatiate wave What thousands find a watery grave I When burst the dark tempestuous storm Amidst the lightning's glare — When frowned Destruction's awful form, What frantic fear was there ! When life's last hour drew near its close. What loud tumultuous cries arose — What shrieks of wild despair I No rescue nigh— earth's visions o'er— The seaman sank afar from shore 1 Ye wanderers of the dark blue wave, The sport of every gale. Whom nought but help from Heaven can say© When storms your path assail — Where'er life's fragile bark is cast, The soul is safe from adverse blast, If moored *' within the veil ! " gallant hearts ! much need have ye To trust in Him who rules the Sea I i 238 UCPnERSONS F0EM8. MArwIXER'S SONG. Tlio sua bus set, iho shides of cvo Glitlo softly o'er the sea, And bring to all a sweet reprlero, A dream of love to mo. For, freed from toil, I fix my gazo Upon the first pale star That wakes with soft religious rays, Fond thoughts, of scenes afar At this calm hour a lady mine, Who dwells beside the sea, Is constant at the vesper shrino To pray to Heaven for me. She, too, observant of her vow, "The registered above," Beholds that glimmering planet now, And names her absent love. I almost think T see her face — Her sweet yet chastened smile, And o'er her lovely features trace Her inmost thoughts the vrhile. TOE RETI&ED 8AIL0B. 289 Sho TvaAGS tho blissful moments flecl— Thu lu »ks of fi)iKl rt'^rot — Tlie sig'is wu breatlietJ — tliu tears wo sliecl- Our hopos when lust \\c aiut. waft our gallant sliip, ye winds, Tlio bouhding billow.s o'er, Till it the destined haven finds, And I my native shore. THE RETIRED SAILOR. When first I heard the thrilling talo Of mighty oeean's reign, I longed to hoist the adventurous sail And cleave the liquid plain. But would the dream to leave my home, To try the changeful sea — Oh ! would the restless wish to roam Had never come to me. il Tossed by the spirit of the blast Where warring waters ravo, Upon the higli and giddy mast Above the yawning grave, — Rcmoto fi'om all the heart holds dear, Sick, sick upon my cot. With none to speak a word of cheer,— This oft has been my lot. 240 HC PHERSON S POEMS. Dread hunger, thirst, and polar cold, • Let others brave for gain ; Keep, merchant, keep your proffered gold, I cease to tempt the main. Beside ray own hearth's cheerful blaze, Content, though small my store, I pass my unambitious days In peace unknown before. TO THE MAllINER. j> Hail Mariner ! whose feelings are as warm And simple as in childhood — who has won The name of " Ocean's simple-hearted son Hail, thou, familiar with the Almighty's form. Seen in the lightning's far-surrounding flash- Heard in the thunder's overwhelming crash And all the voices of the mid-sea storm. Remember Him, Who lets the waters bear Thy gallant bark, wherever thou wouldst roam, Who holds the winds that waft the traveller home, And makes His children His peculiar care. 0, then, remember Him, in storm or calm, In Morn's glad hymn, in Evening's solemn psalm, And in the life-breath of unceasing prayer. THE mariner's RETXIRJ*. 241 Id, MARINER'S RETURN. I wandered far from my native land, O'er many a stranger scene, But I look once more on the rugged strand, And the hill tops gaily green. The surf that breaks on her seaward rocks, Hath a welcome in its roar, To a heart that, tired of the word's rude shocks, Would mix in its wars no more. 5h— h I come — I come to the laughing streams That will greet uie with sweet song — To the dear old scenes of my school-boy dreams. And the happy household throng. I come from the bu«y world's alarms, With a new and strengthening zest. To household friends in whose fostering arms My cares shall be lulled to rest. 'oam, sr home, n psalm, I suffered much since I left them last ; Fierce heat and polar cold ; But the future joy may redeem the past, And repay me a thousand-fold. I have braved the storm on the wave-washed dcck- I have run on a dread lee-shore — Yet escaped with life from tlie shattered wreck, To return to my own once more. 11* I 242 MC PHKRSON S POKMS. I wandered far with the hope of wealth That was destined to depart, But I thank Thee, Lord, that I still have health, And the boon of a grateful heart. My " lov'd ones ' ' lung to be once more blest With the sight of my storm-beat face ; My roof tree waits for a weary guest, I haste to tlie dear old place ! I wandered for, but my native vale Shall hear my soul rejoice, And the cheek of the watcher growing pale. Be bright at my well-known voice. I come from the angry tempest's roar, From the deep sea's troubled foam. To the quiet scenes of my native shore, And the dear delights of home. LINES FOR THE LADIES.— No. L TO ACCOMPANY THE PIANO OR THE SPINNING-WHEEL. (5.) Girls ! how highly pleased we feel With humble admiration, When blushes on your cheeks reveal Fair Hebe's bright carnation. But, ah ! we cannot brook to see A lass her form defacing, — '■ Wc cannot bear that you should be J^elf-s.'ierificed to ** lacing !" : HEEL. LINES TO TilKI LADIES. Consumption, fragile beauty's foe, Among the sex so frequent, May be, as learned Doctors show, On "modern lacing" sequent. And then by fragile shoes and hose Which fashion-traders take, you May both your bloom and eoinlbrt lose — May health indeed forsake you. If ye were fashioned out of taste We might excuse the passion For living delicately laced And dying ** in the fashion.''^ But, trust me, Nature, when she made Dear woman's form of beauty, Knew how the shape should be arrayed. But fashion swerves fioiii duty, We read that men, in I'unnor days, Armed *' cap a pie," when banded, But women had no name fur stays. Their waists at will expanded. And that the dames, in times of old Of mighty men, were mothers. Is proved by Greece and Home, — and told, By Homer and some others. 243 I I had a sweetheart once — a maid Whose form was fairly moulded, Whose eye beneath its silken shade A lofty soul unfolded. 244 MC PIIERSOK 3 FOEJOS.^ I hopeil — in truth, a Happy lot. The future fomlly tracing ; But, wlioii about to sIku'C my cot,. Sl>c Ml a proy to lacing 1 I moumei! her loes in silent woo Like any otlier lover, Until a lass who lacked a beau I happened to discover. Hw cheek was like ' the red, red rose '- Her waist a pi'oper feature ; Tlicre was no hectic near her nose— She was a prudent creatui'O. E'en now (but lately made a bride) In wetlded beauty blooming, She sits her clean-.swe{>t h It, (1.) The lines here pjiven, arc but extracts from a comparatively long poem, composed of a scries of sonnet-Iiko verses. Part of the remaining passages were nearly illegible, and to others objections might appear, which would require correction by the author. In this, and other of his poems, McPherson evinced very strong feelings on the subject of war; he saw great present evils vividly, and thought he might speak out plainly, as became his idea of a true bard. (2.) The writer's own experience evidently tinges these and Evening Shades of Life, and otiier verses of this section, as it did so prevailingly, tlic " Personal " poems. (3.) The strain here is more imaginative and ambitious than usual, in McPherson's poetry. Its management tends to prove, that to the addidional training and experience which ho so much desired, he might, if spared, have aimed above the sweet lyrical department to which he had chiefly devoted his attention. (4.) This, and pieces which immediately follow, remind of the Author's experience in sea affairs : — they are indicative of a class of subjects apt to be familiar to a Nova Scotian, who finds waters of Ocean, or Bay, or Gulf, in comparative proximity to every acre of the Province. (5.) The lively, and somewhat sarcastic and playful style, indulg- ed in these and next succeeding verses, appear in strong contrast with the laments which had become so frequent in consequence of privation and disappointment. McPherson has more than once intimated, that his literary powers should not be judged exclusively by -what he had accomplished, but rather by what might have been eaected under happier circumstances. GENERAL NOTE. The Bmall volume now presented, will be found peculiarly indica* tivc of the author's experience and chnracrter. Prominent among its recommendations are, very fluent verse, good moral tendencies, and hcart-jxpresniun which appeals to the hearts of readers. Several imperfections, typographical and other, j.itiy, no doubt, be discernable in the book. Some of these may be attribt/iable to the Btato of parts of the copy, which required revision by the author, — and some to the hurry with which the press-work was prepared for y and performed. Long delayed, from several causes, when taken up, the economizing of time became of consequence. Much of the edit- ing was attended to at hours beyond the usual time of retiring to rest. The volume, including the memoir, contains 300 pages, as inti- mated in the Prospectus. Some advantages might have been obtalaed by having the mechanical part of the work performed out of the Province; but home-manufacture was thought especially aT)j^,ropriatt in the publication of a volume, written by one whi» hoped to be remembered as, " The Bard of Acadia." A few grammatical inaccuracies may appear, and may be accounted for by circumstances ah'cady mentioned. In one place, for instance, the word " forgot" is used instead of forgotten ; — for this, excuse might be given, in reference to requirements of metre, and in refer- ence to respectable precedent al.«o. Among several unpublished manuscripts is an address to England, including advocacy of more attention to Public Education, reproof of War principles and practices, and commendation of the Christian amenities and Charities ot Life. McPhcrson wx^M about as strongly in reference to War, as he did concerning Intemperance. Lines entitled "Pastime, ' were referred to in the Memoir, as illustrating a simple incident in the writer's history ; only a part of the copy of > this piece was found in preparing for the Press, so that it docs not appear as intended. A blank for date occurs in, memoir, under title of Localities,— the settlement alluded to took place, it appears, about 1812, or 1813. In selecting for publication, several of the poems were somewhat abbreviated : thus, less finished paessages were omitted, and space was gained, for other verses, within the prescribed limits of the volume. By dates attached to some of the manuscripts, most of the poems given, appear to have been written within a period from the year 1844, inclusive. Some of the verses styled " Occasional " would have been other' wise classed, if they came under more ii'no!' \ » ,>'. The "Harp of Acadia" is now re^^^L tally commended to that patronage, which was a cherished hope by the Author during the eomposition of its vQjps^ Pec. 19, 1862. 1 14 5J^ 3c_^ J. S. T. suliarly indica- nt verso, good to the hearts of , no doubt, be bi/tabie to tho the author,— s prepared for 'hen taken up, ;h of the edit- etiring to rest. pages, as inli' been obtained ed out of the y aT>j^»ropriat(; hort' '' to be bo accounted for instance, •r this, excuse , and in refer* s to England, )n, reproof of tho Christian ut as strongly *ance. Lines illustrating a ' the copy of at it docs not realities, — the or 1813. 5ro somewhat nd space was lie volume. o{ the poems rom the year e bef-n other- Dded to that r during the J. S. T.