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 Microfiche 
 
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 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques 
 
 1980 
 
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CANADA 
 
 NATIONAL LIBRARY 
 BIBLIOTHEQUE NATIONALE 
 
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Virginibus pueriaque caiifo.-HuiiAVK. Lih. iii. Ode I. 
 
 QUAi^T6TT€ op Lovei^S' 
 
 We will live, my love, and play, 
 i^et grey l.eards wag as wag thev may ; 
 teuns that set repair their light, ' 
 Our brief day has one long night. 
 
 — GoLDWix Smith's Bay LtavtH. 
 
 Lovt various minds does variously inspire. 
 
 — Dryden. 
 
 JOHN ALLISTEB OURRIE. 
 
 TORONTO: WILI lAMSON 6i CO, 
 
 1892. 
 
« mm -^pf^pi"^- 
 
 ^'^ ^^5 6 
 
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 h^ yy ^^ 'J 
 
 Entered according to the Act of Parliament of Canada, in the 
 year one thousand eip-ht hundred and ninety-two, by Wil- 
 LiA>|«0N & Co., Toronto, at the Department of Agriculture. 
 
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 $i 
 
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 TO 
 
 MY CRITIC, MY FRIEND, AND MY INSPIRATION, 
 
 IS 
 
 DEDICATED. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
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INTKODUCTIOJ^. 
 
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 There is no excuse to offer for these verses. 
 They were written more for pleasure than for pub- 
 lication, in the few spare moments that fall to the 
 lot of vspaper man. If they meet with public 
 
 approval, well and good ; if not, fhe consolation 
 remains, that few ever succeed in this department 
 of literature. 
 
 Much is demanded of the modem verse writer 
 His work must be clear and natural ; it must com- 
 bine the real with the romantic, and, above all, 
 the treatment must be both robust and artistic. 
 If I have failed in this respect it is not because I 
 do not comprehend the ideal, but because of the 
 greatness of the task. 
 
 J. A. C. 
 
 Toronto, May 7th, 1S92. 
 
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 TO MY BOOK. 
 
 I DO not ask to rule in other hearts ; 
 
 I do not wish to govern other minds ; 
 
 I do not seek the goal Anilntion finds, 
 Nor yet the pride and cares that Power imparts. 
 But all I ask is Love that ne'er departs : 
 
 A heart that round my own for life entwines ; 
 
 A moment's joy to those who read these lines, 
 My trilnite to the Muses and their arts. 
 
 Dear little book, if such should be your lot, 
 
 To please, and bring fresh hopes in darkest days, 
 
 To lead some hearts to Love—Life's brightest spot- 
 The author's aim will live in you always. 
 
 And this is fame enough, it matters not 
 Although his l)row be not entwined with bays. 
 
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 31 C5lttat:tette of gx3tJer0* 
 
 • ■♦■»- 
 
 Comt live with me and he my lore, 
 And ice will all the pleasures prove 
 That valley.^, groves, and hills, and fields, 
 Or woods or sleepy mountain yields. 
 
 — Christopher Marlowe. 
 
 I 
 
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 I 
 
 II 
 
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 -»"»•♦- 
 
 THE SUN LOVER. 
 
 The momiiig star burnrs Ijrightly in the east, 
 
 A herald for the coniiiig God of day. 
 The moon has fled, tlie cricket's song has ceased, 
 
 Night's curtains on the hills are growing gray : 
 The stillness of suspense steals tiirough the air, 
 
 Stirred with strange rustling,^ like the hurried flight 
 Of darkness' dusky win<(s. 
 Or ear-l)orn pulses indicating care, 
 
 That keep sweet slumber in the restful night, 
 From weary workers in vain worldly things. 
 
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 12 
 
 A (J UA R TK TTE OF L VERS. 
 
 
 
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 Hark ! in the pause of jnorn's expectcancy 
 
 A robin's song comes, and tJic l)nbbling strain 
 Of stirring silver-liutc.l melody 
 
 Awakes tlie woodland choristers again : 
 The shore-lark to the goklen-curtained dawn 
 
 Soars higher and higlier, singing and swinging until 
 The rocks and lakes resound. 
 The oriole on the leafy, wooded lawn 
 
 Warbles to the swallow on the hill, 
 Life's morning song of love, sublime, profound. 
 
 Brighter and lirighter grows the eastern sky, 
 
 As from their nest, beside some edgy pool, 
 The wild ducks rise, and swiftly westward flv 
 
 Till lost in those blue lakes so calm and cool 
 Impictured in the rud<ly western cloud. 
 
 The owl, with weird hoot and ghostly flight, 
 Seeks silence in the swamps. 
 Out on the lake the loon, with mirth endowed, 
 
 Laughs at the quickly disappearing night, 
 With all its stars, its mysteries and pomps. 
 
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 A QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 13 
 
 8ing, all ye silvery-turoatcd songsters ! sing, 
 
 In one glad l>ursl of music and of praise ! 
 Sing till tlie woods and valleys ring 
 
 A joyous anthem to the God of days. 
 Now, as the orbed son of Light and Love 
 
 O'er the liorizon peeps in steadfast Hight, 
 Hail to the (Jod of day ! 
 sovereign sun^I that on thy path aljove 
 
 Marks out the milestones of the day and night, 
 Welcome at morn with nature's gladdest lay ! 
 
 Up from the grass and lily-cups the dew 
 
 Springs like a In-ide to meet a bridegroom lorn. 
 The petals of the llowers unfold anew, 
 
 And turn to offer incense to tlie morn. 
 Forth from his hive the bee, with drowsy hum. 
 
 Sails with the wind to seek some quiet spot 
 Where roses nod and smile. 
 Deep in the jiinky petals, where the sun 
 
 Warms but not lights, he dreams, the world forgot. 
 Drunk with perfume, and with his love a while. 
 
 fe*'!*?'*;''** 
 
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 14 
 
 
 A qUAirrETTE OF LOVEn^. 
 
 What is tliis feeling in my tired heart, 
 
 That stirs so strangely at the dan'n of day? 
 What is it makes my sluggish pulses start, 
 
 And drives my ])ain iiud anguish all away? 
 What is it makes the liirds so blitlijly sing? 
 
 Why is it that the forests tind a voice 
 To praise the sun a))ove ? 
 Why is it tliat the hills and valleys ring ? 
 
 Why is it that the sun makes earth rejoice? 
 Is it because the sun vj, (vul of Love? 
 
 i 
 
 Then if it is, l^eloved my Sun art tliou ! 
 
 Our life shall be one long and en-Uoso day ; 
 I'll press a thousand Jdsses o,n thy In'ow, 
 
 And thus do homage to thy sovereign sway. 
 Why sliould I own a care? Wliy fear to die ? 
 
 Love is enough ! The sun will rise again, 
 And thus will love return. 
 Why mourn the past with either tear or sigh ? 
 
 Love is not lost ; love always will remain ; 
 
 Then let iis love while youth's mad pulses l)urn. 
 
1 
 
 A Q UA R TE T TE OF LO VERS. 
 
 Th^n love I'll follow like the vagrant bees, 
 
 That seek the rose, and in its petals swoon. 
 Ah, those are days I have not drained the lees, 
 
 And love is young, and life is at its noon. 
 A kiss to me is more than riches rare ; 
 
 A smile is heaven for a moment seen 
 In some s^eet, loving face ; 
 The halo of the sun is in love's hair ; 
 
 Tlie blue of heaven is in her eyes, I ween. 
 And in her arms I'll find a resting place. 
 
 15 
 
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16 
 
 A QUAirrETTE OF LOVERS. 
 
 ) 
 
 3- 
 
 THE STAR LOVER. 
 
 Tiii;ke is a rapture stirs my soul to-uight ; 
 
 Wliat it can be, ah ! well, I cannot say : 
 There is a love-song in my heart that might 
 
 Stir sluggish pulses under passion's sway, 
 Could it find wonls — alas ! the thought is vain ; 
 
 Ah, well ! I know my darling thinks of me, 
 And as she sees yon star, 
 Like some Ijright gem set in a rosy main, 
 
 It speaks to her of love and constancy, 
 Of faith in one true heart that loves afar. 
 
 If^ 
 
 Oft have we sat Ijenealh the swaying vines. 
 
 When Summer swooned in Autumn, and the rose 
 Scattered its petals on dame Nature's shrines. 
 
 Filling the air with fragrance at the close 
 Of some sweet day, when life was young : 
 
 And as the pulse of love shot through my soul. 
 So strong and yet so free, 
 I clasped her in my arms, and though the tongue 
 
 Stirred not ; the love-light to her dark eyes stole, 
 'Twas then, star, our troth we pledged to thee 
 
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I 
 
 A QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 
 
 star ! how I have loved so long aiul well ; 
 
 Toll her, I pray thee, that I love her still. 
 Tell her when Winter's icy mantle fell. 
 
 Tossing the Autumn loaves in heaps at will. 
 When rohins bade farewell to leafless wood, 
 
 And .southward fled in searcli of Summer days, 
 My heart still yearned for her : 
 And in the long dark nights, in dreamy mood, 
 
 I sat and thought of her, and watched thy rays, 
 For thou art, star, to me love's harbinger. 
 
 Tell her, O star ! when sunny Spring at last 
 Kissed all the \Vinter's frosty frowns awav, 
 
 When in the sky and nortiiward hurrying fast 
 With many a -honk," «'hank," honk'' before twas 
 day, 
 
 The wild geese flew like white-ro!>ed angel thrones 
 W ith sun still set gleaming on waving wing, 
 I tliougnt alone of her ; 
 And as the birds broke into woodland songs, 
 To greet the morn, thy rays still lingerin^^ 
 Smiled sweet farewell like Love's own messenger 
 
 17 
 
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 18 
 
 A i^UAHTETTE OF LOVEnS. 
 
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 •huie came, and roses came Avitli June ; 
 
 My heart burned with unsatisfying love ; 
 Birds sang to mate, in lyric, and in rune ; 
 
 Stars smiled on lo\ e-lorn lilies from alxn-e ; 
 The crickets chirped along the winding lane, 
 
 And Nature's whirring lullaby at night 
 Soothed fev ^-throbljing heart ; 
 And as thy rays stole through my window pane, 
 
 I thought of her and hailed thy silvery light, 
 A pledge of constancy, to love apfirt. 
 
 st^ir ! we do not live and hope in vain ; 
 
 Well have we named our honors after thee, 
 Faith, hope, renown, aml>itions that remain. 
 
 We call them stars, and wear, that all may <ce. 
 Those marks of honors won in stirring strife. 
 
 On tented field, or in the reahn oi mind : 
 But love compared to those 
 Frail honors won in dull and sordid strife, 
 
 A rain-drop to the ocean unconfined — 
 Love is a star, its acolyte the rose. 
 
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 A (,>UARTETTE OF LOVERS. 19 
 
 If we have love what need we cure for pain ? 
 
 Sorrow may come, hut love will Ijanibh all ; 
 Hopes may grow dim, l)ut hopes return again ; 
 
 If love remains, no anguish can appal ; 
 Storms hide the stars, but still the stars will shine ; 
 
 Though anguish stirs the soul, still love supreme 
 Triumphant rules the soul. 
 Beloved, such a love I know is mine ; 
 
 I cannot give you else, and should you deen« 
 Love is enough, then love has found its goal. 
 
 Good night, star ! a kind, a sweet good night, 
 
 Then welcome dreams, that bring my love to me ; 
 Those moments when, in realms of sweet delight, 
 
 My darling speaks, and as slie smiles I see 
 The old love in her eyes, and sno'.vy arms 
 
 Clasped round my head, a thousand kisses burn 
 Upon my cheek and brow, 
 ecstacy of dreams ! how sweet tliy charm., 
 
 In dreams the lover always would sojourn, 
 And dream oi her he lo\-es, as I do now. 
 
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 20 
 
 A QUARTETTE OF LOVEB^. 
 
 THE SEA LOVER. 
 
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 Tis evening, and hccart-sore I seek the ser,, 
 
 To watch the waning glories, and once more — 
 Strange nurse of many moods and mystery — 
 
 To listen to thy wild and weird roar. 
 Thy waves are breaking on the sandy beach, 
 Like weary runners falling from the race ; 
 The pebbles grate and grind, 
 Like rain drops on a roof in lieu of speech ; 
 Nature's own image is thy plastic face, 
 Moulded to suit the currents of thy mind. 
 
 Awhile the sun in golden glory waits, 
 
 Up-borne like victor on his brazen shield. 
 Without night's dim and dusky gates 
 
 Only awhile, and then he sinks to yield 
 Unto the silver sickle in the v.est, 
 
 Witti its bright pilot-star and milky way, 
 The sovereignty of night. 
 Tremulous glinnnerings of ghostly light invest, 
 
 The starry sky, and in the northward play ; 
 The sea n.oans mournfu'ly in mysterious might. 
 
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A QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 
 
 21 
 
 -*«*■• 
 
 Dim and inyaterioua sea, so sadly stmiige, 
 
 The music of thy song stirs in my heart 
 Responsive chords, and minor keys arrange 
 
 Tliemselves, and strange vibrations m it ^Vcwi. 
 Is there no one to love me ? nor an eye 
 
 To khidle at my footsteps ? Not a tear ? 
 No hand to sootlie my brow ? 
 No one to care or weep if I should die ? 
 
 I am alone with thee, sea ! and here 
 We mingle sor *ows and to sorrow l)ow. 
 
 Lost ! is my love lost ? Lost for evermore ! 
 
 Are tliere no deeper words my anguish to proclaim 
 " Lost !" eclioes back the Sea. " Lost !" in its roar 
 
 The spirits of the dead in groans exclaim. 
 The foam Hies on the beach, and in the west 
 
 Dark clouds roll up, and now the vaporous breeze 
 Sings as it stronger grows. 
 The stars are blotted out ; my soul finds rest 
 
 In the mad turmoil of the wind and seas, 
 The liorizon echoes as the tempest l>lov,-s. 
 
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 22 
 
 A QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 
 
 \} 
 
 Hcark ! now the surf is breaking on the rocks, 
 
 The vault of heaven is searched with lightning red 
 The waves fall on the sand with mighty knocks, 
 
 Wildly the gulls are screaming overhead ; 
 And for a moment as the lightni:»g lit 
 
 The foam-wreathed waters, through the drift rain, 
 Fast driving sails reveal. 
 The warring elements in passions fit 
 
 The anguish of my mind, the maddened main 
 My heart uplifts, as loud the tlnmders i)eaL 
 
 Morn comes, and with the morn the calm, 
 
 The passions of the elements are spent 
 In vain fury, and the morning psalm 
 
 Of Nature polyphonic echoes lent, 
 With quiring woods, in motets to the day, 
 
 And soothe tired hearts of nature and of man, 
 With easeful melody. 
 The sun, with blazing axletree, its way 
 
 Makes high in heaven, and only feathery fan 
 Of frothy sands recalls the angered sea. 
 
 ■■IWHI 
 
A (jUAIiTETTB OF LOVERS'. 
 
 Rock me to sleep, sea ! In thy embrace, 
 
 So soft and yet so strong, I sometimes feel 
 As if 'twere happiness to swoon, and face 
 
 Eternity which thy dark depths reveal. 
 Proud in my strength, I spurn thy spumy wave, 
 
 And yet with all my youth, and vaunted power, 
 I am a child to thee ; 
 And as thy waters my hot pulses lave, 
 
 Love is forgotten in thy foamy shower. 
 Rest, tired heart, here in the heaving sea ! 
 
 A shadow falls upon tiie shining sand ; 
 
 A smiling face looks sweetly (nit to me : 
 A moment, and I clasp a loving hand. 
 
 All is not sadness on thy shore, O sea ! 
 Heart-ache and passions burn the brain, 
 
 Still hope lives on, like thy eternal power, 
 To soothe the tired l-.eart. 
 O darling ! l)y this opalescent main, 
 
 Love came to us like rainljow-tinted shower, 
 Ood's promise that we cannot live apart ! 
 
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 ».'■««. 
 
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 1: 
 
 24 
 
 A (iUAUTETTE OF LOVEltS. 
 
 ■ « 
 
 [ %' 1 
 
 THE MOON LOVER. 
 
 TiiK sun has set, and in the darkening east 
 
 The pale-faced moon peeps o'er the distant iiill.^ ; 
 Whilst in the woods all sounds of song have ceased', 
 
 Save where the bob-o-Hnk so bithely trilU 
 His monody, so sprightly, sweet and clear, 
 
 In one continuous ecstacy, until 
 A thousand echoes throb among the trees, 
 That all who heed may hear : 
 Love rules the woods, the vale, the twinkling rill ; 
 Love breathes in song, and lingers on the In-eeze. 
 
 moon ! what is there in thy silvery l)eams, 
 
 That stirs strange feelings in my weary breast ? 
 Can it be fear, or hate ? and yet it seems— 
 
 No—no— it cannot be— this sad and sore unrest 
 Cannot be love ; the old, old love that clings 
 
 Still to the heart like ivy to the wall 
 Of some old house, wliere once reign'd mirtli and song, 
 And to the ruin brinL's, 
 
 With each recurring summer, spring and fall, 
 A wealth of verdure that the past prolongs. 
 
 I 
 
 J. 
 
 •<i.-.««tji:iSit: 
 
I 
 
 A QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 25 
 
 moon : bring back tlie loving past to me, 
 
 Tin; past that comes but in a fevered dream ; 
 When we together sat, and watched the sea, 
 
 And saw thy silvery light in one l)road stream 
 Flow from our feet, until it seemed to meet, 
 
 Like Love and Friendship, in the long ago. 
 Mingling in one intoxicating mist ; 
 While throbbing pulses beat. 
 
 And, as I spoke of love in accents low, 
 Her eyes turned up to mine— I looked and kissed. 
 
 O moon ! bring back those happy days of yore, 
 
 ^Vhen man was free, and in the tangled wood, 
 Thy fitful beams fell on the leafy floor, 
 
 Where fair Diana with her crescent hood. 
 Her silver bow and her hoarse-throated hounds, 
 
 Followed the chase from evening until morn : 
 When piping Pan, and all his merry crew, 
 With mirth and mingled sounds 
 
 Of revelry, drank deep, and Plenty's horn 
 O'erflowed with fruit and everything that grew. 
 
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 26 
 
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 A QUARTETTE OF LOVEIiF;. 
 
 O moon ! bring back lliose brave old days again, 
 When heroes stood upon the sounding shore, 
 
 And sang their love songs to the raging main- 
 Love songs of those tlieyM left for evermore. 
 
 Bring back those days wiien, 'neath the castle wall. 
 The troubadour witli his low, loving lute 
 
 Sang of Ids love to her who loved him well. 
 Ere wealth appeared to pall 
 The tide of passion, and to institute 
 
 That mockery, false love, an earthly hell. 
 
 moon ! pale and impassive as the grave, 
 
 Thoii beamest down ujion the weary earth, 
 Fit emblem of the glorious past that gave 
 
 Heroes and poets endless fame and birth : 
 Emblem of the immortal names that cling 
 
 To those who lived and knew how passions burn 
 Deep in the human heart, and overflow 
 Till future ages ring. 
 
 What if their ashes find no costly urn. 
 Their names shine like eternal Alpine snow. 
 
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 Z^fWKik-- ■:.i!mfB*''-*M 
 
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 A (QUARTETTE OF LOVERS. 27 
 
 U moon ! fit emblem of a hopeless love ! 
 
 Stirring the secrets of the mighty deep 
 With thy mysterious power from above ; 
 
 Fanning the embers of the heart that sleep 
 Deep in the ashes of falne Hope, to blaze 
 
 One fleeting moment, then to sink and die, 
 With thy strange loving liglit so calm and cold. 
 Oft from thy starry maze 
 
 Hast thou looked down and heard the weary sigh, 
 That of a breaking heart so well betold. 
 
 Ah, it is well ! draw o'er thy fickle face 
 
 The fleeting mantle of a fleecy cloud, 
 Ah, it were well if I could thus eti'ace 
 
 Her image from my heart, and 'mid the crowd 
 Forget that e'er I loved. Yet strange, to-night 
 
 The old, old love comes, and I long to fly 
 Far, far away, perchance far up to thee. 
 So that from thee 1 might 
 
 Look down and see her once before I die, 
 Then swoon into Death's strange, unfathomed sea. 
 
1 
 
 Sonnets. 
 
 3 
 
 Ah, Lovt ! could you ami I with him conspire 
 To fjrasp this sorry Scheme of Thinfjs entire, 
 
 Would not we shatter it to hits—and then 
 Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire ! 
 RuBAioYT OF Omar Khayyam ; 
 
 Edward Fitzgerald. 
 
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 ^oxxxxi^tet. 
 
 ••• 
 
 WORDS CANNU'J^ 'J ELL. 
 
 WoitDs cannol tell how dearly I love tliee, i 
 
 Nor yet the sweetest stiains of music ever known ; 
 
 Bird notes in springtime or the ocean's moan, 
 Are discords to those songs that come to me 
 Nightly in dreams, while in these dreams I see 
 
 1'hee by my side, my arms around thee thnnvn — 
 
 You smile, and then I deem you all my own. 
 The vision fades in all its ecstacy, 
 And I am left alone ; my love's in vain ; 
 
 You love me not ; no need to speak of this ; 
 If I could hope— well, life wcndd once again 
 
 Seem v/orth the living, and I'd deem it hliss, 
 For thy dear sake, an empire to obtain ; 
 
 Or barter hope of Heaven for thy kis.s. 
 
.i^ 
 
 
 SOXyETS. 
 
 PEACE AND LOVE. 
 
 I KNOW a valley wliero the wiM-flowcrs grow. 
 
 A valley in the dear and distant west, 
 
 Wliere daffodils and daisies never liressed 
 15y mortal foot are nodding, where the glow 
 Of summer's sun is dancing to and fro. 
 
 Like fairy fingers, on the rippling breast 
 
 Of singing streams, that sighing seem cra'crssed 
 By drooping alders, dreaming as ihoy ilow. 
 There will we fly, my loved f)ne, far away. 
 
 Forgetful of all false and fickle friends ; 
 Unmindful of the sorrows of the day. 
 
 We'll live for love, a love that never ends ; 
 And in unbroken happiness for aye 
 
 Find peace on earth which all true love attends. 
 
 m 
 I"} 
 
SOyXET.^. 
 
 33 
 
 THK BUJiO-LINK. 
 The bob-o-link is calling from the wood, 
 An.l as hi8 plaintive notes fall on my ear- 
 t'alling, yet calling, unto loved one near- 
 Darkness, and many mingled sorrows brood 
 Deep o'er my heart ; thoughts constantly obtrude- 
 Thoughts of the love I have for thee, my dear, 
 Love yet unanswered, and a foolish fear 
 Come, that I neither could nor woul(( elude. 
 Oh ! lor one moment in my arms to hold 
 
 Thee clinging to my breast, and thus to know 
 Tliat thou art mine, and on thy lips untold 
 Unnumbered kisses, dearest, to bestow ; 
 Thy throbbing heart to mine thy love unfold, 
 And make me liappiest mortal here below. ' 
 
,is- 
 
 34 
 
 SOXXBTS. 
 
 /* 
 
 TO kp:ats. 
 
 Li.Kr, some cool draught quaffed from a livirg spiiiig, 
 Set in the shade of an eternal liill, 
 Where nature broods, and all around is still, 
 
 Save for the song of birds or hum of wing, 
 
 That to a man fresh hopes and courage bring, 
 So do tliy soothing accents softly fill 
 The veins with long forgotten fires, until, 
 
 Youth comes again, with love enthroned as king. 
 
 Dear mother Nature kissed thee on the brow, 
 Whispered her sweetest songs into thine oar, 
 
 Taught thee to sing once more of myth and bou'^di, 
 Of piping Pan, of nymphs and Satyr's sphere ; 
 
 That we might at the shrine of nature bow, 
 And learn tlie lessons that love lonos to liear. 
 
SOXNET.i. 
 
 35 
 
 /* 
 
 TO NOTTAWASAGA RIV^ER. 
 
 Flow on, like some fair, faint and fading dream, 
 Suggestive of forgetfulness and love ; 
 Flow on, old Nottawasaga, whilst the dove, 
 Or golden swallow, in thy glassy stream 
 Kisses its fevered ])reast, and the shrill scream 
 Of blue-jay, and of fislier high alcove, 
 'Mid drooping birches echoes. The foxglove. 
 And ox-eyed daisy on thy margin, seem 
 Enamoured of their image in the wave. 
 The tiger-lily's flaming crest on high, 
 Rears in the verdure, like a belted brave. 
 
 Here could I dwell unsighed, without a sigh, 
 Forever, and no ulher l)lessing crave 
 From earth or Heaven, except that thou l)e nigh. 
 
nMnhmm 
 
 36 
 
 SONXETS. 
 
 TWIN SOULS. 
 
 Years ago, e'er yet the world began, 
 
 Our souls were formed some future day to meet 
 
 Here on this earth, and here with love to greet. 
 Obedient to a mighty power and plan 
 Fixed from eternity — this life a span — 
 
 Some kindred soul, and thus oi" lijve complete. 
 
 Love such as this is more than hie replete, 
 For love rules life, the universe, and man. 
 
 What agony of happiness and bliss 
 
 Mingled with sighs — unspoken love — there came 
 When our souls met, and one long, lingering kiss, 
 
 Spoke from eternity, and we became 
 One soul. What greater joy could come than this, 
 
 To love an<l be beloved, one and tlie same I 
 
SOXXETS. 
 
 37 
 
 M 
 
 ACK08S THE STUBBLE FIELDS. 
 
 We crossed the stubble fields at eventide ; 
 The sunset glinted in her golden hair, 
 Kissing the rose-leaves on her cheeks so fair : 
 
 And as we slowly sauntered side by side, 
 
 I could not speak, my heart was filled with pride. 
 An Autumn sadness filled the smoky air 
 On every hand ; the forests were a glare 
 
 Of gold and crimson, scattered far and wide. 
 
 But when we reached the wood, and far away 
 We saw the silent sea, and overhead 
 
 The robins, grosbecks, and the blithe blue-jay, 
 Sang their sweet carols to the summer dead, 
 
 I spoke, and learned she loved me from the way 
 Her blue eyes softened as "good-bye" she said. 
 
 .«isa«M^.-« 
 
,'^g;'mmmmmmmmm 
 
 HWWilWy.ifiiiilHai 
 
 38 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 TO A GRASSHOPPER. 
 
 How playfully you hop among the grass, 
 Now clinging to the blades that droop and sway 
 Like clustering vines upon an Autumn day, 
 
 But for a moment ; onward swift you pass, 
 
 A streak of light, in green and gold cuirass. 
 You chirp and dream the happy hours away ; 
 No worldly cares upon your shoulders play ; 
 
 Your pleasure-house it is not built of glass. 
 
 Well did the wise old Greeks thy image wear, 
 Wrought of the finest gohl, with rarest skill, 
 
 Upon their brows and in their wavy hair, 
 Symbolical of Nature and her will. 
 
 Give you but ease, man is not half so fair, 
 He grasping dies and never gets his fill. 
 
 m 
 
 U\ 
 
 " 
 
SOXXETS. 
 
 39 
 
 ■' 
 
 TO LAKE HURON. 
 
 How calm and still tliy waters sleep to-day, 
 Old Huron, bluer than tiie cloudless skies, 
 And calmer than the myriad stars that rise 
 
 In midsummer, and niglitly take their way 
 
 Majestically past island, rock'and hay, 
 To sink at morn, a.^ darkness swiftly flies 
 Before the day star, in immensities, 
 
 While thy deep waters turn to rosy gray. 
 
 But I have seen thee in thy wilder moods, 
 
 When jagged lightnings searched thy inky dome. 
 
 Covering thy pulsing waves with .silver hoods ; 
 Shi^.s crushed like egg-slicUs in thy angry foam ! 
 
 Kven tiien I loved thee, and though dangers brood 
 Upon thy waters, still they are my home . 
 
40 
 
 SOXXL'TS. 
 
 CUPID IS DEAD. 
 
 Cvvii) ia (lead ! farewell to love's desire ! 
 
 Farewell to the fond kiss that formed a part 
 ^ Of that sweet calm that soothed tlie stricken lu art ! 
 
 Farewell to love, with its inspiring fire, 
 
 Its warm embraces that seem not to tire ! 
 Farewell to sorrows sweet when friends depart, 
 Farewell to meetings when the pulses start, 
 
 Cupid is dead ! gold is his funeral pyre ! 
 
 The last of all the Uods of ancient day, 
 He held in homage human hearts below ? 
 
 Venus and Juno he escaped till they 
 
 Wove golden nets, then he was caught you know, 
 
 And in a coquette's heart was stowed away— 
 He lived a moment, then he died in woe. 
 
 ki 
 
 y m 
 
SOXXETs. 
 
 41 
 
 1 
 
 MY FIRST LOVE. 
 
 ' I'l^ vvlicu the rosy petals of the day 
 
 Are scattered softly on my bedroom tloor, 
 Chasing the shadows out night's dusky doo!, 
 
 I wake, and all the old desires that stay 
 
 Locked up within my heart hold sovereign sway : 
 I part t!ic cascn^.entj and I seek the shore. 
 To greet the one I love so well once more, 
 
 And for u moment on her hosom play. 
 
 There is no other face one half so kind ; 
 
 'I'here is no other eye so blue to me ; 
 Nor yet a bosom that I e'er could find, 
 
 Filled with such moods and i>asJ^ions wiM and fr 
 There is no fairer cheek kissed by the wind, 
 
 Than my fir.^t love's, that I love still-the Sea. 
 
 ee ; 
 
MM 
 
 "vm^ ■**«?•?.' 
 
 ! 
 
 !l il 
 
 42 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 A DROP OF INK. 
 
 A DROP of ink ! and yet perhaps it will, 
 Enshrine my love in monument more ilear, 
 And more enduring— this Mack, inky tear — 
 
 Than Parian marl)le carved with rarest skill, 
 
 Or castle set upon some lofty hill. 
 For graven stones, or l)attleitient8, I fear, 
 'Neath ravages of Time soon disappear, 
 
 And ashes leave. Fame's purpose to fulfil. 
 
 Therefore beloved, if this song should live, 
 Time and decay its purpose cannot swerve ; 
 
 'Tis all I have, this sonnet, and I'll give 
 It as a pledge of love to thee, to serve, 
 
 The part of monument more fugitive. 
 And thus in Time's decay our love preserve. 
 
 ¥ 
 
1 
 
 SOXXETS. 
 
 4d 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 Rejoice, O Earth ! the icy bonds that long 
 Have hehl thee in their i^orean embrace 
 Are melting one by one, as tears efface 
 
 Cold, stony grief ; and overhead tlie song 
 
 Of Nature echoes all the woods among, 
 Smoothing the frown upon thy rugged face ; 
 While Spring and youth and v/ooing we can trace 
 
 In wood and wold among the feathered throng. 
 
 Incarnate April, with her smiles and tears, 
 Bedecks the daedpl Earth in bright array. 
 
 Whilst at her girdle are the keys of years 
 That lock the summer tomb where winters stay 
 
 Ihe broken whips of hail, the chilly fears- 
 Rejoice, O Earth ! Death reigns but for a dfiy ! 
 
 J 
 
44 
 
 SOXXETS. 
 
 CAMERON'S ISLAND.— GEoRtiiAX Bay. 
 
 The sunlight twinkles through the trembling leaves ; 
 The waywurd wind whispers its weird song 
 Through poplar and througli pine the live day long , 
 
 And in the waters of the channel weaves 
 
 Laughing webs of gold that blue relieves. 
 The crickets chirp, and day and night, along 
 The sobbing shore, the sea-gulls' screams prolong 
 
 The sound of surf, where rock the l>illow cleaves. 
 
 Here in this solitude of rocks and bays, 
 Far from the noise and tumult of mankiutl, 
 
 Give me but health and ideal summer days, 
 Books, a near friend, the waters and the wiml, 
 
 I would not ask for lands that others praise ; 
 A fairer spot than this they could not find. 
 
 I 
 
SOXXETS. 
 
 45 
 
 MV LADY'S SLIPPKK. 
 
 Have you not seen some jewel quaintly set 
 In cunning carving cut in massive gold, 
 Whose workmanship and beauty such a hold 
 
 Takes of your fancy that you would forget 
 
 The jewel, though a priceless one.? And yet, 
 Robbed of the jewel, you the work l)ehold. 
 Its beauty fades, no longer is extolled. 
 
 Not so this slipper with its red rosette. 
 
 Sweet satin, cabinet of all that's dear, 
 Fit setting for a jewel that I prize 
 
 Far more than diamond or an opal tear ; 
 Happy the mortal's fate that kneeling ties 
 
 Those ribbons, and he well might worship near 
 A shrine less worthy, or goddess less wise. 
 
4« 
 
 SOXNETS. 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 Thekl are no colors in God's lieaven-bent h(nv, 
 Nor is there music in the (quiring spheres, 
 Can paint thy smile from out these youtliful years, 
 
 Recall the music of thy voice so low 
 
 And sweet, dear mother, in the long ago. 
 But gone art thou, Ah ! how the bitter tears 
 Burned deep into my heart! How memory sears, 
 
 But cannot heal those wounds, while tears still tiow. 
 
 Back from those bright and happy days gone Ijy, 
 Echoes of childish mirth and cradle song. 
 
 Thy guiding hand and presence then were nigli, 
 And I am weary, and life's road seems wrong. 
 
 I miss thy smiling face, thy watchful eye. 
 Life's heaven was short. Eternity's is long. 
 
 i 
 
 ■'^V'ttfVfl^'Kmr ■•S^;JM' 
 
IRonbeauj:. 
 
 -•->♦<-•- 
 
 With faired ideas my bo.som I .stortd, 
 AlliLsirt to none hut the nymph I adored , 
 And the more I with study my faury refined, 
 The deeper impression she made on my mind. 
 
 — William Shexstonk. 
 
Uonifj^axxx, 
 
 ->*<- 
 
 BREAK, iMIGHTY SEA. 
 
 Break, mighty sea, upon thy silvery shore ! 
 
 Thy voice to me sounds of the evermore ; 
 In foam-edged flatness waste thy giant'power, 
 Thy wrath is but the creature of an hour ; 
 
 A calm, a storm, a tempest, all is o'er! 
 
 But can the wounded heart forget its sore, 
 As lightly as the sands the ocean's roar, 
 Its surf-wreaths and its storm-swept Ihower ? 
 
 Break, mighty se«,! 
 Break, mighty sea, and let thy voice ador. 
 The Hand that tempests makes and calma restore 
 That Hand can heal the wounds that griefs devour 
 And guard the soul like castellated tower. 
 Forget and rest, O heart ! for evermore. 
 
 Break, mighty sea ! 
 D 
 
50 
 
 RONDEA rx. 
 
 
 WHEN NE\V YEAR COxMES. 
 
 When New Year comes, old friendships we renew, 
 The past we scan, 'tis oft a sad review ; 
 The good done, opportunities eni)>raced. 
 The promises we've kept, and tears effaced, 
 Are juml)led up in memory's New Year stew. 
 
 f 
 
 Acquaintance with ourselves, 'tis true — 
 We seldom keep this little thing in view — 
 Had been forgotten, ])ut must he retraced 
 
 When New Year comes. 
 
 Farewell to folly, falsehood and their crew 
 Of mocking phantoujs, let the tried, the true, 
 Be the new motto on our ])annors traced, 
 And let th ot motto never be disgraced. 
 f ) then, old year, a long, a last adieu 
 
 When New ^'ear '.omes. 
 
 "■"• 3» 
 
hiT-MiiMMlt^JUM 
 
 RONDEAiW. 
 
 51 
 
 f 
 
 THOU ART NOT HERE. 
 
 Thou art not here, my heart is sad to-night, 
 Hours follow hours in slow and sullen flight ; 
 
 The wind is sighing through the city near ; 
 
 Its sobbing moan falls on my weary ear, 
 I cannot rest, and tears l)edi;n uiy sight. 
 
 i\ 
 
 
 The world no longer seems so glad and l)right ; 
 Song does not charm nor poesj' delight 
 
 The heart. Hope and ambition disappear, 
 
 Tliou art not here. 
 
 Could'st thou but read this loving lieart aright ; 
 
 Could'st thou but know my soul has lost its light ; 
 A sigh might come, perchance would fall a tear, 
 For one who sighs, beloved, with heart sincere, 
 
 Thou art not here. 
 
 ■■■ **m ' ""' wiiiwi ii 
 
 'ffW- 
 
I 
 
 52 
 
 RONDEAUX. 
 
 h \ 
 
 WHEN MORNING COMES. 
 
 When morning comes, the robin's roundelay, 
 
 Welcomes the advent of another day. 
 The busy bee that toils so oft in vain. 
 Gathering his luscious store for others' gain, 
 
 Is on the wing for clover meadows gay. 
 
 The rising sun, with golden-fingered ray, 
 Brushes aside night's shadows dim and gray. 
 Nature heralds the dawn with sweetest strain, 
 
 When morning comes. 
 
 The glittering dew-drops linger not to stay ; 
 A brighter color glints the fountain's spray. 
 
 And earth is filled with gladness once again. 
 
 'Tis thus in life, for after care and pain 
 Comes death, then heaven, and sorrows pass away 
 
 When morning comes. 
 
ROXDEA UX. 
 
 53 
 
 COULD I FORGET. 
 
 Could I forget your fragrant hair, 
 The glints of gold that linger there ; 
 Your sparkling eyes in loving mood, 
 Like dewy violets from the wood ; 
 Your cheeks like roses bright and fair, 
 No roses with them can compare ; 
 Your smile so sweet dispels despair, 
 Your voice so low, how it deludes, 
 
 Could I forget 
 
 Could I forget that love affair ; 
 It was last summer — on the stair, 
 
 I held your hand, and as you stood— 
 
 But it's unkind to thus allude 
 To wounds that Time should soon repair, 
 
 Could I forget. 
 
 
i 
 
 54 
 
 RONDEA UX. 
 
 A FRIEND I'LL BE. 
 
 A FRIKND I'll be, when aummer days so sweet 
 Strew all their treasures at lier twinkling feet ; 
 When on the lawn or sauntering 'mid the trees, 
 Love spasms other fellows sometimes seize, 
 If " blazer" coats or tennis shoes they meet. 
 
 When, Love's light in her eyes, my footsteps greet, 
 I know too much to seek and court defeat, 
 So simply say, if only her to teaze, 
 
 "A Friend I'll be." 
 
 But often when we seek some quiet seat. 
 The music of her voice makes life complete : 
 I wonder if I dropped upon my knees, 
 And said, "I love you," would she be displeased, 
 Or answer '• Yes," or simply say so neat, 
 
 "A Friend I'll be." 
 
 
 I 
 
roxi)i:a ux. 
 
 55 
 
 I 
 
 ■' 
 
 LISTEN, ROSE. 
 
 LisiTEN, Rose, attentive, pray, 
 
 To the words I fain would say ! 
 It was " love " I should have writ, 
 "Love" to "friendship"' must submit, 
 
 If a rhyme it would delay. 
 
 Rhyme we always must obey, 
 Though our thoughts it won't convey, 
 '"•^o this message please transmit. 
 
 Listen, Rose. 
 
 Cleverness we must display. 
 If our thoughts are led astray, 
 
 Love we never can permit 
 
 To usurp the place of wit. 
 Still "twas "love" I meant to-day. 
 
 Listen, Rose. 
 
 Wff^ 
 
i 
 
 Son06. 
 
 Ala^! by some dei/ree of woe 
 
 We every bliss must fjaiv : 
 The heart that ne'er a transport bioivs, 
 
 That never feels a pain. 
 
 — Georoe Lyttleton, 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 "^ 
 
1:4 
 
I 
 
 §CI«0». 
 
 • •• 
 
 THE REASON. 
 
 Why do you love me, tell me ? 
 
 Why do you kiss my cheek ? 
 Why do you sigh so often ? 
 
 Why do you seldom speak ? 
 Why do you look so sadly ? 
 
 Why do you whisper low? 
 Is it you love another ? 
 
 Tell me if that ia so ? 
 
 Why do I love you, darling? 
 
 Dearest, I cannot tell. 
 Why do I sigh so often ? 
 
 'Tis that I love so well. 
 Why do I look so sadly ? 
 
 Dearest you ought to know. 
 'Tis not that I love another, 
 
 But that I love you so. 
 
60 
 
 SOXGS. 
 
 THE LACLOCHE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Sing not to me of stately parka, 
 
 With solitude oppressed, 
 Speak not to me of level plains, 
 With sultry winds caressed ; 
 Nor yet a stretch of silver sand, 
 
 Kissed by an ocean wave ; 
 Nor dusty city with its filth, 
 
 Suggestive of the grave. 
 But give to me majestic hills, 
 
 With hoary-headed peaks ; 
 For there 'mid rocks, jn silent tones, 
 
 Tht voice of nature speaks. 
 There, where the storm-king wastes his power, 
 
 Where foot of man ne'er trod, 
 I see the weakness of mankind, 
 
 The majesty of God. 
 
 Jit 
 
SOXGS. 
 
 61 
 
 MY FAIRY. 
 
 Fairy's eyes are sapphire blue, 
 Brighter than the summer skies ; 
 
 Love shines in them fond and true, 
 Faithful love that never dies. 
 
 Fairy's lips are rubies red, 
 Set beneath a Grecian nose ; 
 
 He who kisses them forgets 
 Earthly fears and earthly woes. 
 
 Fairy's heart, a diamond pure. 
 Rarer than yet set in ring ; 
 
 He who gets it well might feel 
 Prouder than a crowned king. 
 
 I 
 
 
 ^■^ 
 
62 
 
 SONG"^. 
 
 t> 
 
 ONLY A SONG. 
 
 The road is dark and dreary, 
 
 Aiid the niglit is bitter and cold, 
 As I stand in the street, with the world, aloue, 
 
 And my heart so sad and weary ; 
 The hopes of my youth are gone, 
 
 And my limits are growing old ; 
 Not a friend do I meet, no home of my own, 
 
 And the road so dark and dreary. 
 
 A song comes through a window - 
 
 A song of the long ago, 
 That my mother sang, and my darling, too ; 
 
 But my heart is so sad and weary. 
 Was it the singer't- voice ? 
 
 Was it the accents low ? 
 Gave my heart a pang. Ah me ! it is true 
 
 That the road is dark and dreary. 
 
SONGS, 
 
 Gone is the singer's voice, 
 
 Dead are the lights within. 
 There is nothing left but the falling tears, 
 
 And a heart so sad and weary. 
 Was it the music stirred V 
 
 Something the soul may win, 
 Though of Love bereft, and hopeless for years, 
 
 And the road so dark and dreary. 
 
 63 
 
r I 
 
 64 
 
 SONGS. 
 
 Ir 
 
 THOSE HAPPY HOURS 
 
 At evening when the shadows fall, 
 
 And softly o'er the seas 
 The weird songs of sea-birds come 
 
 Borne on the fitful breeze, 
 I think of one who used to sit 
 
 With me at eventide ; 
 And someway I can't help but think 
 
 She still sits by my side. 
 
 As darkness onward steals apace, 
 
 And shadows longer grow, 
 I dream once more of happy days 
 
 Spent many years ago ; 
 I feel once more the loving kiss, 
 
 Which still clings to my brow ; 
 And snow-white arms about my neck, 
 
 I think I feel them now. 
 
 ,1 
 
SONGS. 
 
 'Tis but a dream, a cliangeful dreaij, 
 
 Alas ! I sit alone. 
 The night has come, the music ceased, 
 
 The sea-birds all have flown. 
 Those cherished wounds in secret scanned, 
 
 We love them well, it seems, 
 The happiest hours we ever spend 
 
 Are those we spend in dreams. 
 
 65 
 
 THE END. 
 
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