IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 & 
 
 ^' 
 
 '<if /£P. 
 
 <j. 
 
 
 'V.^ ^ < % 
 
 Q- 
 
 ^ 
 
 i^. 
 
 :a 
 
 f/j 
 
 fA 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 ^ m '""^ 
 
 S i;S 1 2.0 
 
 U 11.6 
 
 y] 
 
 .^'W- 
 
 
 
 'el 
 
 ■c'l 
 
 'T^.^l 
 
 4>^ 
 
 o 
 
 /, 
 
 ^f 
 
 '% 
 
 /a 
 
 m 
 
 7 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 m 
 
 V 
 
 ^v 
 
 \\ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 # 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 1S> 
 
 
 % 
 
 ^^ 
 
 <-'* 
 
 "<i.^ 
 
 ^> 
 
CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut canadien de microreproductiond historiques 
 
 1980 
 
 I 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exomplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du 
 lioint de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la m4thode normale de filmage 
 sont indiqu^s ci-dessous. 
 
 D 
 D 
 □ 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 Covers damaged/ 
 Couverture endommagde 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaurde et/ou pellicul6e 
 
 Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes g^ographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Relid avec d'autres documents 
 
 □ Coloured pages/ 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 □ Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagdes 
 
 □ Pages restored ind/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes 
 
 I — I Pages detached/ 
 
 Pages ddtachdes 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 □ Quality of print varies/ 
 Quality indgale de I'impression 
 
 □ Includes supplementary material/ 
 Comprend du materiel supplementaire 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along inte.ior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serrtte peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge intdrieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas 6t6 film6es. 
 
 D 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seuls Edition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 -'"scurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont 6t6 filmdes d nouveau de fapon d 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 D 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppl6mentaires; 
 
 □ This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 Ce document est filmd au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 
 
 
 
 
 14X 
 
 
 
 
 18X 
 
 
 
 
 22X 
 
 
 
 
 26X 
 
 
 
 
 30X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ^■^^ 
 
 m^^^m 
 
 i7y 
 
 
 
 
 IfiX 
 
 
 
 
 20X 
 
 
 
 
 24X 
 
 
 
 
 28X 
 
 
 
 32X 
 
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 National Library of Canada 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la 
 g6n6rosit6 de: 
 
 Bibliothdque nationale du Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed bctginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol -^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 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 images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmd, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprim^e sont film6s en commengant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, selon ie cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film^s en commenpant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la 
 dernidre image de chaque microfiche, seron ie 
 cas: le symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre 
 reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir 
 de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la m6thode. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 32X 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
J 
 
 «■?'! 
 
 -^ - ,yl^ 
 
 
 ■^>v.>---: 
 
' -'f' •'<''• '■■'■y.'.r,"^,-. ,,.^,, 
 
 at] Wild Fiowers : 
 
 M IHf W?^'"^iNG3 
 
 iO^" 
 
 JOHNSON 
 
 :H of her LIYE. 
 
 'A. orkock, 
 
 ■ng from tjw, hnmnii m!iia 
 *' ground . 
 
 • aiiiiful,— 
 
 • •unO.. 
 
 
 ACM. 
 
„W5&^' 
 
 
 \ 
 
Ganadian Wild Flewers: 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM THE WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 MISS HELEN M. JOHNSON, 
 
 OF MAGOG, P. Q., CANADA, 
 
 WITH 
 
 A SKETCH OF HER LIFE. 
 
 BY REV. J. M. ORROCK, 
 EDiTon OF "Messiah's Herald," Boston, Mass. 
 
 Good thoughts spring from tho Luuiau mind 
 Like flowers from out the ground : 
 
 Attractive, fragrant, beautiful,— 
 To make our joys abound. 
 
 ]3 O S T O X : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. M. OliUOCK, 
 74 KNEELAND STREET, 
 
 1884. 
 
 
ps sMl'l 
 034 C 3 
 
 69428 
 
 ( 
 
 ■ /- / 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year If 8i, by 
 
 J. M. OUUOCK, 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 J. K. BALLOtT, PRIXTEB. 74 KNEELAND STREET, nOSTO^^ 
 
 J 
 
28 
 
 Ivtint!^. 
 
 An observance of the hand of God in his providences, as 
 well as of his Spirit in the written Word and in the Imman 
 heart, lias led to the publication of this book. Though more 
 tlian twenty years liave passed since Miss Joiixsox died, her 
 name is like " an ointment poured forth." Many who never 
 knew her personally seem to know her well from her poetic 
 writings : for "as fragrance to tlie sense of smell, music to 
 the car, or beauty to tlic eye, so is poetry to the sensibilities 
 of tlie heart, — it ministers to a want of our intellectual na- 
 ture ; this is the secret of its power and the pledge of its per- 
 petuity." A IGrao volume of her *' Poems " was published in 
 Boston, in 1855, but has long been out of print. In 1S04 the 
 Rev. E. II. Dewart publislied in Montreal a work entitled 
 " Selections from Canadian Poets," in which ten of her poems 
 were inserted and a very appreciative notice of her given. 
 She also wrote for several papers, so that in various ways her 
 thoughts have been widely disseminated. A desire has often 
 been expressed to have them collected into one volume; but 
 to have all thus republished would not be best. I have there- 
 fore attempted only what the title indicates — to make selec- 
 tions from her writinrjs ; and conclude to send them forth un- 
 der a name which she herself chose at a time when she had 
 thoughts of getting out a book. Let critics remember that 
 they claim to be only *^ Canadian wild flowers** ; yet we feel 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 sure that some of them, for beauty of form aiul f ni^rance of 
 truth, will not unfavorably comimre with some of the culli- 
 vpted productions of our classic poets. Miss Johnson was 
 better known by her poetry than by her prose writings, yet in 
 the latter are found so many grand thoughts that I have cop- 
 ied from them freely. The biographical sketch, it is hoped, 
 will add interest to the book, especially as so many of her 
 diary notes have been interwoven. Some of her pieces are 
 here printed for the first time. The prize poem on " The 
 Surrender of Quebec " is given in full. In the Preface to her 
 "Poems" she said : "I have been cheered and encouraged 
 by the thought that perhaps through my instrumentality the 
 heart of some humble believer might be comforted, and some 
 wretched wanderer, weary of the vanities of earth, be directed 
 to the only source of life and happiness. Should such be the 
 case, the brightest hopes of the authoress will be fulfilled, and 
 she herself be amply compensated for her care and la')^!'." 
 With a sincere desire to aid in the direction thus indicated 
 this little work is now sent forth. 
 
 J. M. O. 
 Brookline. 2[ass., 
 June 22, 18S4. 
 
 « I 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Life-Sketch : 
 
 PAOR, 
 
 IJlrth-place — The Forest (a poem)— Conviction of sin- 
 Baptism and Resolutions — Experience — Diary notes in 
 verse— Sufferings— Last poem— Tlie One Name and Tlie 
 Adieu (poetry)— Deatli. .... 9-34 
 
 KuiiAL Scenes : 
 
 Tlie Walk in June, . 
 
 An Evening Meditation, 
 
 Xature's Kesurrection, 
 
 Tlie IVinVa Nest, 
 
 Gather Violets, 
 
 To a Dandelion, 
 
 To a Robin, , 
 
 God is There, 
 
 The Canadian Farmer, 
 
 The Return, 
 
 The Old Sugar-Camp, 
 
 To a Rabbit, 
 
 The Old Man, 
 
 The Fading and the Unfading (prose). 
 
 On Receipt of some Wild Flowers, 
 
 The Sick Girl's Dream, 
 
 Tlie Last Song, 
 
 An Evening Scene, 
 
 Autumn Teachings (prose), 
 
 The Watcher, . . . . 
 
 37 
 43 
 45 
 46 
 47 
 48 
 60 
 51 
 5^ 
 54 
 57 
 59 
 CO 
 62 
 62 
 63 
 65 
 66 
 68 
 60 
 
6 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 IH [ 
 
 rATiiioTic Poems: 
 
 The SuiTcnder of Quebec, 
 
 Song of the English Peasant Girl, 
 
 A Nation's Desire, 
 
 Canada's Welcome, 
 
 Our Native Land, , , 
 
 The Appeal, 
 
 I Love the Land whco I was Born, 
 
 The World to Come, 
 
 Tempehance : 
 
 A Welcome to a Temperance Picnic, 
 
 A Life-Scene — Tlio Letter, 
 
 Tlie Pledge, .... 
 
 Sighs on" INIohtality: 
 
 What is Your Life ? 
 
 Life, .... 
 
 The Silent Army, . . 
 
 The Dying Warrior, 
 
 On Seeing a Skull (prose), 
 
 Tliouglils on Death, 
 
 The Battle-Field, 
 
 Dead and Forgot, 
 
 Dear Emily, 
 
 On the Death of a Friend (prose). 
 
 The Heavenly Helper, 
 
 The Promise, 
 
 The Dead Christ (prose), 
 
 The Complaint, 
 
 The Mixed Cup (prose), 
 
 I Shall Depart, 
 
 Time Flies, 
 
 A Voice from the Sick Koom (prose), 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 71 
 
 82 
 
 83 
 
 £ 
 
 84 
 
 80 
 
 87 
 
 80 
 
 02 
 03 
 
 05 
 
 101 
 
 102 
 104 
 100 
 107 
 108 
 111 
 112 
 114 
 115 
 116 
 118 
 120 
 120 
 122 
 122 
 124 
 125 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Songs of Hope: 
 
 " lie aiveth Songs in the Night," 
 
 Thn Last Good Night, .... 
 
 Retrospective and Prospective (prose), , , 
 
 Hope, ...... 
 
 Earth Not tlie Christian's Home, 
 
 "We Sorrow Not as Otliers WiLlioiit Hope" (prose), 
 
 Tlie Messenger liird, ..... 
 
 Our Sliip is Homeward Bound, . . , 
 
 Midniglit, ...... 
 
 Easter Sunday (prose), .... 
 
 Tlie Risen Redeemer (prose), .... 
 
 Dost Tliou Remember Me ? . , , 
 
 '"T is I— Be Not Afraid," .... 
 
 Tlie Only Perfect One (prose), . . , 
 
 The Dying Christian, .... 
 
 The Request, . . . . , 
 
 Complete in Ilim (prose), , , • . . 
 
 Trust in God, ..... 
 
 A Paradox (prose), ..... 
 
 " Thou Shalt Know Hereafter," 
 
 Thine Eyes Shall See the King in His Beauty (prose), 
 
 All Is Well, 
 
 We Shall Meet, . . , . , , 
 
 What the Daughter of the Cloud Said (prose), . 
 
 This is not Home, . . . . , 
 
 The Soul's Consolation (prose), 
 
 " We See through a Glass Darkly," . 
 
 Words of Cheer for Fainting Christians (prose), 
 
 Miscellany : 
 
 The Dying Year, 
 
 Incomprehensibility of God, 
 
 The Star of Bethlehem, . . . 
 
 God Made Me Poor, .... 
 
 I'AOK. 
 
 mo 
 
 131 
 132 
 132 
 133 
 13G 
 137 
 138 
 140 
 141 
 142 
 143 
 144 
 145 
 140 
 147 
 148 
 149 
 150 
 151 
 152 
 153 
 154 
 155 
 15G 
 157 
 158 
 159 
 
 162 
 162 
 163 
 104 
 
8 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 :i ! 
 
 i! f 
 
 The Stranger Guest, 
 
 A Long, Delightful Walk (prose), 
 
 " The Servant is Not Above his Master," 
 
 Elijah, . . . . , 
 
 The Sacred Page, 
 
 Behold how lie Loved Us, . . 
 
 Love Your Enemies, 
 
 The Orphan, 
 
 Sententious Paragraphs (prose), 
 
 "Ye Did It Not to Me," . 
 
 Hear and Help Me, . . 
 
 Farewell, .... 
 
 No Mother, 
 
 To a Mother on the Death of her Child, 
 
 In Goodness is True Greatness, 
 
 Similes (prose). 
 
 The Crucified of Galilee, , 
 
 The Ascension, 
 
 The Hebrew's Lament, 
 
 When Shall I Receive my Diploma? (prose), 
 
 Alone with Jesus, 
 
 The Lost Babe, 
 
 The Day of Wrath, 
 
 The Believer's Safety (prose), 
 
 PAGK. 
 
 165 
 
 16G 
 1G7 
 1G9 
 171 
 172 
 174 
 175 
 178 
 179 
 180 
 181 
 182 
 
 184 
 185 
 187 
 188 
 190 
 101 
 192 
 194 
 195 
 197 
 
|Eif< mtcft. 
 
 ■S3 
 
 ^I^HE hill country of Jiidea, which furnished a horn t- 
 \\\ for the virgin niothei' of our Lord, is not the only 
 rural region from whence have come women en- 
 
 "^^ dowed with intelligence and integrity, philan- 
 thropy and religion, who by pen and tongue have 
 brightened and blest the liearts and homes of thou- 
 sands. Nurtured amidst the wilds of nature, instead 
 of the bustle and bewildering attractions of city life, 
 they have grown strong to do battle for the right and 
 to bear testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus. Of 
 tliis class is the one whose life and labors we are now 
 to consider. 
 
 Memphremagog is an enchanting lake, two-thirds 
 of which lie in the Eastern Townships of Canada, in 
 the Province of Quebec, and the upper third in Ver- 
 mont. Its extreme length from north to south is 
 about thirty miles, its breadth varying from one to 
 three miles. It is semi-circular in form and bestud- 
 ded with islands ; while on its western shore rise 
 mountains of no ordinary attractions, among them 
 Owl's Head, which towers about 2,500 feet above the 
 surface of tiie lake, affording from its summit a pano- 
 ramic view of surpassing loveliness. It was at " The 
 Outlet " of this lake there was born, Oct. 27, 1834, 
 Helex Mar, the youngest daughter of Abel B. and 
 
 if 
 
10 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Polly Johnson; and there she spent — with the ex- 
 ception of the time devoted to attending or teaching 
 school — almost her entire life. Of cities she knew 
 nothing by experience ; but as her reading was exten- 
 sive she knew much of the world by mental surveys. 
 The book of Nature was her delight. Its illustra- 
 tions of stones and streams, lakes and rivers, moun- 
 tains and forests, birds and flowers, were ever attract- 
 ive to her. At an early age she began to exhibit rare 
 poetic talent. Of " a number of short pieces, written 
 between the ages of twelve and fifteen years," the 
 following, entitled " The Forest," has been preserved. 
 It appeared in the Stanstead Journal — a paper to 
 which she afterwards frequently contributed. It was 
 probably the first article she ever had printed. 
 
 " Let others seek sweet fiieiulsliip's voice 
 
 When grief the spirit bends, 
 Let them find solace in the tones 
 
 Of their beloved friends; 
 But oh ! when sorrow o'er me broods, 
 Give me the dark, the dark green woods. 
 
 ** Wlien pleasure lijj;hts the sparkling eye, 
 
 And swells with rapture proud, 
 Let others spend their joyous mirth 
 
 Within the giddy crowd; 
 But when o'er nie no clouds are seen, 
 Give me the forest, dark and green. 
 
 ** When pure devotion fills the heart, 
 And breathes a yearning prayer. 
 
 Let others wander to the church 
 And pay their tribute there; 
 
 But if o'er me such feelings steal, 
 
 In the dark forest let me kneel. 
 
 *• When dtjatli comes o'er the pallid brow 
 To number with the dead, 
 
LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 11 
 
 Let others choose some lovely grave, 
 
 Where tears will oft he shed ; 
 But let me, let me find a tomb 
 Deep in the forest's darkening gloom." 
 
 Her life was not one of thrilling adventure, hair- 
 breadth escapes, and deeds securing worldly applause, 
 but quiet, unobtrusive and useful. Her constitution 
 was naturally weak — ^her brain too active for her body, 
 and as a consequence much mental and physical suf- 
 fering was her portion. To her studies — French, 
 Latin and drawing, besides the English branches — 
 she was very devoted. Nothing pleased her better 
 than to be alone with books, pen and pencil, or to 
 wander forth in garden or field. Being of a very 
 bashful and retiring disposition she felt alone even in 
 company. Her diary leaves give evidence of this. 
 Under date of June 19, 1852, for example, she writes : 
 
 "How lonely I feel to-day I and my rebellious 
 heart will repeat the question, Why was I created 
 thus ? I stand alone, and why ? 1 know it is my 
 own self that makes me so ; but how can I make my- 
 self otherwise ? I have tried very, very hard to over- 
 come my — what shall I call it ? bashfulness ? It 
 seems as though it could not be wholly that. I have 
 seen those the world called bashful, but they were not 
 at all like myself. Oh, no ; I am wretched at times 
 
 on account of this . When I see myself all alone 
 
 — different from those around me — I cannot stay the 
 burning tear though I would gladly repress it. I 
 cannot soothe the anguish that fills my heart, and yet 
 I feel that this is wrong, — that it ought not to be 
 thus. Why should I feel so keenly that I am alone ? 
 that I am strange ? Earthly scenes will soon be over, 
 
 ' 
 
 it 
 
 11 
 
12 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 and if I am only a Christian I shall never feel alone 
 in heaven. Oh, glorious thought ! there will be no 
 strange being there. God, prepare me for that 
 blissful world and I will no longer complain of my 
 loneliness on earth — no longer sigh that I am not like 
 others." 
 
 At this time Miss Johi'^^son was not a professed 
 Christian. Her parents had endeavored to bring her 
 up in the fear of the Lord and a belief of the gospel, 
 and to attend the services of the sanctuary. Her life 
 had been one of strict morality. She believed in God 
 but had not taken Christ as her own personal Saviour 
 and confessed him before men as she felt sIk^ should. 
 Her conviction of sin however was deep and pungent. 
 On another day in the same month, she says : — 
 
 " Earth, thou art a lovely place, and some of thy 
 inhabitants are as lovely and happy as thyself. See 
 that beautiful bird, with shining plumage and bril- 
 liant crest, and hear the melodious notes that arise 
 from its silvery throat ! Its form proclaims beauty, 
 and its song haj)piness. See those snow-white lambs 
 skipping over the verdant grass, — now nestling sport- 
 ively beside their bleating mothers, then springing 
 forward, bounding from knoll to knoll, and filling the 
 air with strains of joy and delight ! See yonder but- 
 terfly weighing itself upon that brilliant flower : his 
 gorgec^is wings are expanded and glittering in the sun 
 like sparkling gems 1 See those bright-eyed children ! 
 their glowing cheeks, their beaming eyes, and above 
 all their clear and merry laugh proclaiming happiness 
 pure and unbounded. Earth is truly lovely, but its 
 inhabitants are not all happy. Oh no, not all, for one 
 who loves the beauties of earth, rejoices in the loveli- 
 
f 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 13 
 
 iiess of nature, and finds her chief pleasures in the 
 spreading grove, by the babbling brook^ among the 
 brilliant flowers, is sad and unhappy. And why? 
 Bt'cause she has learned too soon that there is no such 
 thing as [real and abiding] happiness on earth, that 
 the fairest plants wither, that pleasure is a deceitful 
 phantom — false and fleeting. Truly she has learned 
 all this, and will she never learn to raise her eyes to 
 that bright Avorld where true happiness only resides, 
 and to trust meekly in Him who is the only Dispenser 
 of peace and joy ? " 
 
 Later we have another entry in which, after again 
 referring to the beauties of nature, she exclaims : 
 
 " life, life ! I fain would read thy mysteries : I fain 
 would draw aside every vail and behold for what pur- 
 pose I was created. Was it to be an heir of sorrow ? 
 was it to live for myself alone, and then pass away 
 and let my memory perish with me ? IS'o, I was born 
 for a better — a higher and more holy purpose. I was 
 not born to pass a few moments on tlie stage of life 
 
 and then disappear forever "With a shudder I 
 
 turn away and would gladly forget to think. O 
 thought, thought ! thou wilt distract me, — thou hast 
 almost hurled reason from her throne. Thou bitter 
 tormentor ! depart, if but for a moment, and let me 
 once more ii' J peace. But no ; the more I seek to 
 elude still nearer the demon pursues. thought, 
 thought ! it rushes forth from my soul like the wild 
 outpourings of the volcanic mountains and overwhelms 
 me with its burning tide till body, mind and soul — 
 all, all are exhausted and lie like a straw u])on the 
 roaring bosom of the deep. Oh, that I could arise, 
 mingle with the gay, and forget my own deep and 
 overpowering thoughts. But no ; such thoughts, like 
 the soul which gave them birth, can never die. O 
 
 :M 
 

 14 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWKIiS. 
 
 ■I\ 
 
 thought, what art thou? A blessing to angels, a 
 curse to me. Distracted soul, sink into repose : others 
 arj happy, and wast thou born to be more wretched 
 than they ? Truly thou Avast, and why ? Because 
 thou livest only in the regions of thought — thought 
 which is burning my brain and piercing my lacerated 
 heart. And yet a thought freighted with light beams 
 through the dark clouds which its darker sisters have 
 thrown around me, and the only inscription which it 
 bears is, * Live for others.^ And another thought fol- 
 lows in rapid succession, — ^like a far-off echo it repeats 
 the words of its predecessor, ' Live for others,' and 
 then adds (while a vivid flash of the lightning of 
 truth lights up the darkness of error), ' Live for God 
 and for heaven.' A loud crash follows. Peals of 
 thunder shake the atmosphere of my soul ! Self has 
 fallen: I will live for others, for God and for heaven.^^ 
 
 This was a grand resolve ; but not yet was the soul 
 
 to be out of prison, the pilgrim to be freed from the 
 
 Slough of Despond. Once more she has to write : — 
 
 " Everything is beautiful, and all nature is glad and 
 rejoicing. Arise, my soul,, and be thou glad likewise. 
 Cast off thy gloomy fears. The God who made all 
 the beautiful things by which thou art surrounded is 
 not unmindful of thee. Oh, wondrous condescension ! 
 God is not forgetful of me. He gazes upon me with 
 an eye of compassion ; he pities my distress and my 
 weakness. Amazing love ! Oh, that I were more wor- 
 thy of it ; Oh, that I loved him as fervently as I ought ! 
 But my heart is callous, and I am nothing but a poor, 
 cold, vile and helpless sinner : nothing but sin dwells 
 in my heart. It is the seat of every vice, every evil 
 thought, and every depraved passion. [Jer. 17 : 9, 
 10 J Mark 7 : 21-23]. Dark and gloomy clouds en- 
 velope my soul. A weight of sorrow presses upon 
 
LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 15 
 
 my heart, and I vainly strive to free myself from its 
 influence. Everything looks dark. * My God, my 
 God, why hast thou forsaken me ? why art thou so 
 * far from helping me ? ' ' How long wilt thou forget 
 me, Lord ? forever ? How long wilt thou hide thy 
 face from me ? ' * Mine iniquities are gone over my 
 head : as a heavy burden they are too heavy for me. 
 Lord, all my desire is before thee ; and my groaning 
 is not hid from thee. Make haste to help me.* * My 
 soul fainteth for thy salvation, but I hope in thy 
 word.' my God, hear my erv, and ansAver my peti- 
 tion." 
 
 " Tuesday, June 29, 1852. The sultry fires of the 
 day have yielded to the cool breezes of evening. A 
 misty cloud hangs over the once azure sky, and the 
 deep, heavy roar of thunder shakes the quiet air. 
 Nearer and nearer still it rolls its deep-toned voice, 
 and all nature seems to reply. The vivid lightnings 
 flash. The fountains on high are opened, and the 
 rain pours down in torrents. Wilder grows the 
 storm : the winds are released from their ^ prison- 
 cave,' and armed with fury they rush madly forth ; 
 brighter the lightnings glare, louder the thunders 
 roar. The whole fabric of nature seems in commo- 
 tion ! Oh, who can gaze upon such a scene without 
 emotions of awe, wonder and admiration ? Surely 
 such an one must possess a stony heart and a cold 
 nature. There is beauty for me in the lightning's 
 glare — there is music in the thunder's peal ! God 
 grant that there may be beauty and glory for me in 
 the day when the thundering notes of the last trum- 
 pet shall shake the heavens and awaken the sleeping 
 dead, — ^Avhen *the elements shall melt with fervent 
 heat,' and every soul of every tribe, and tongue and 
 nation shall stand before the judgment-seat to receive 
 their final doom ! O grant that the Judge may be my 
 
 \ ' ■ 
 
 i;.i 
 
 I*. 
 
 
 V\ I 
 
 
10 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 friend, and that I — tlie poorest, the lowest, the vilest 
 of sinners — may lind a seat at his right hand ; and 
 thi' vaults of heaven shall forever ring with the 
 praises of a redeemed sinner, saved only through the 
 grace and blood of the crucihed Saviour." 
 
 But the hour was at hand when there was to come 
 such relief to the troubled soul as it had never before 
 experienced, — when the divine Comforter was to take 
 of the tilings of Christ and reveal them to the longing 
 heart, — and this maiden avow herself before the world 
 a disciple of Christ. How was this to be effected ? 
 
 Sunday, July 25, I had an appointment to preach 
 in Magog, and after the forenoon service expected to 
 baptize a young lady who had been a schoolmate of 
 Miss Johnson. In view of that arrangement I urged 
 that they should both go together in the ordinance, 
 but could get no encouragement that it would be so. 
 We went to the church, where I preached from Col. 
 3 : 1-4, and after sermon announced the hymn, — , 
 
 " Gracious Lord, incline thine ear, 
 My request vouchsafe to hear; 
 Burdened with my sins, I cry, 
 Give me Clirist, or else I die. 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 Father, thou hast given thy Son, 
 Bruised for sins that I have done; 
 To that refuge now I fly; 
 Christ is mine — I shall not die." 
 
 The effect and what followed I will allow her to relate 
 in her own words : — 
 
U': 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 17 
 
 " Oh, the agonif and the iierfc.ct peace that I have 
 this (lay onjoyod! The agony in the morning was 
 ahnost insupportable. It seemed then utterly impos- 
 sible for mo to take up so heavy a cross as to follow 
 my Saviour in the ordinance of baptism. The very 
 thought was dreadful, and yet I knew tluit it was my 
 duty. I felt that the anger of God would be kindled 
 against me, — that his Holy Sjnrit would not always 
 strive with me. I threw myself upon my knees ; but 
 could find no peace there as long as I continued 
 ])roudly obstinate. I started from my knees and 
 seized ^ the holy Book of God '; but there was nothing 
 there to comf(n't me. I paced the room hurriedly, at 
 every ste]) exclaiming, ' What shall I do ? ' and yet 
 I knew what to do, but would not do it. Thus the 
 morning passed away, and tremljling with emotion I 
 entered the house of God. The sermon seemed de- 
 signed expressly for me. At its clase I grew more 
 agitated. The last hymn was read, and after singing 
 we were to repair to the water, where one happy 
 being was to follow her blessed Saviour into a 
 watery grave. Oh, I shall never forget that liymn, — 
 never, no never. The closing line of each verse 
 seemed as an echo from my own heart, *Givo me 
 Christ or else I die'; but as the last line of the last 
 V(}rse fell upon my ear — * Christ is iii'inc, I shall not 
 dic,'^ — I think that then I did truly feel determined 
 to come boldly forth and claim the precious promises 
 of God as mi/ own. 
 
 "We sought the water's side, when Josephine 
 asked me in a trembling voice if I would bo baptized. 
 I thought she expected an answer in the negative — 
 at Itiast I knew that she might reasonably expect it, 
 for I had told her plainly in the morning that I could 
 not. My heart was too full to speak : I only bowed 
 my head in token of assent. I shall never forget the 
 
 ^1 
 
 iu 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 
 
18 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEBS. 
 
 look of joy thfit beamed in her countenance, nor the 
 emotions that tilled my own bosom. I saw Eliza en- 
 ter the water. Oh, glorious sight ! I never saw, 
 never imagined so beautiful a scene. Every fear van- 
 ished, every cloud withdrew from my soul, and I 
 longed to enter the waving flood. my Saviour ! I 
 did not enter it alone. Surely it was nothing short 
 of the almighty arm of God that supported mo then. 
 I never in all my life had so little fear of man : I had 
 no fear then. Truly it was a foretaste of heaven. 
 Oh, happy, thrice happy moment ! it was worth a 
 whole lifetime of sorrow. If I could always feel as I 
 did then my heart would never again be bowed down 
 with grief: but that very afternoon Satan began to 
 whisper: 'You will not live up to your profession; 
 you have deceived yourself and others ; you are still 
 a wicked creature ; you arc not a Christian '; and yet 
 by the grace of God I was able, in some degree at 
 least, to resist him. 
 
 " When I partook of the Lord's supper I felt a rep- 
 etition of the happiness I had while obeying the com- 
 mand of my Saviour and following him into a watery 
 grave. How vividly the last supper which Christ 
 partook of with his discij^les presented itself to my 
 mind ! and then I looked forward with joyful hope to 
 the day when all the saints of God shall eat bread in 
 his glorious kingdom, — when all of every ago and 
 climo shall bo gathered around the table, and Jejus 
 Christ himself be in their midst. It was a soul-in- 
 spiring thought, and for all the wealth of a thousand 
 worlds like this I A,ould not have been absent from 
 that communion — from which I had so often absented 
 myself. Yes ; I had never before partaken of the 
 Lord's supper ; and it was my own wicked heart which 
 had kept me away, for God had called loudly upon 
 me, and his Holy Spirit had again and again striven 
 
^*Ji 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 19 
 
 with me. Oh, what a sinner I have been, and what a 
 longsutt'ering God I I wonder that he did not cast 
 me oli' forever. Oh, what mercy 1 * Bless the Lord, 
 my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy 
 name. Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all 
 his benefits.' And now, have I forsaken all for 
 Christ? Have I thrown myself — body, soul and 
 spirit — upon the altar ? I do want to sacrifice every- 
 thing for Christ, and bi/ the grace of God I will ^Dcir- 
 form the following : — 
 
 " 1. When my duty appears plain I will do it, what- 
 ever may be the consequences. 
 
 " 2. I will never be ashamed to confess Christ be- 
 fore the world. 
 
 "3. I will consecrate my talents entirely to the 
 Lord. 
 
 "4. I will never employ my pen in writing any- 
 thing which I might regret at the bar of God. 
 
 "5. I will never permit any one of my composi- 
 tions to bo printed unless I can in sincerity ask the 
 blessing of God to attend it. 
 
 " G. As I shall be brought into judgment for every 
 idle word I say, I will endeavor never to engage in 
 trifling conversation, but on every proper occasion to 
 speak of the wondrous grace of God. 
 
 "7. I will, whenever a good opportunity occurs, 
 warn my young companions to flee from the wrath to 
 come. 
 
 "8. I will strive to set my affections on things 
 above, not on things on the earth. 
 
 '' 9. By the assistance of the Holy Spirit I will en- 
 deavor to keep evil thoughts out of my heart, and to 
 meditate upon the law of God. 
 
 " 10. I will never pass a day without seeking some 
 secret place at least twice a day, and pouring out my 
 soul in prayer to God. 
 
 
 ■ VVl 
 I if 
 
 t , 
 
 
w 
 
 20 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 "11. I will study the Holy Scriptures, and en- 
 deavor to understand what 1 read. 
 
 " 12. I will try to do all I ean. 
 
 " (jod, assist nie to perform what I have written 
 in thy I'ear and to thy glory. 1 am perfect weakness : 
 but 'thou knowest my frame, thou rememberest that 
 I am dust.' I know thou art merciful ; Oh, give me 
 a more- exalted faith. J [('![) me to come boldly for- 
 ward and eliiim thy ])r()mises as mine. Humble my 
 ])rid(! ; keep me at thy feet ; let not the temptations 
 of Satan overcome me, but mny I trust myself in 
 thine arms. May I love thee fervently, above every- 
 thing else — better far than my own life. I can do 
 nothiug uuless thou dost assist me. Oh, support me, 
 and save me at last in thy kingdom, for Christ's 
 sake." 
 
 In the evening of that ever memorable Sabbath she 
 offered aloud a few words of prayer at the family 
 altar, and next day (as she was then teaching) had 
 prayer in her school : thus she " confessed with the 
 mouth the Lord Jesus " while in her heart she be- 
 lieved that God had raised him from the dead (Rom. 
 10 : 9). Immediately after the Son of God himself 
 was baptized, he was iu the wilderness "tempted of 
 the devil "j it need not be thought strange therefore 
 if his fcllower.i soon after their baptism are also 
 grievously assaulted by the same adversary. This 
 young Christian did not escape him entirely; yet 
 from that day until her death, though conscious of 
 much weakness and imperfection, having many dark 
 days and great sufferings, she never renounced her 
 allegiance to the King of kings, who had bought her 
 
rr.n 
 
 LIFE-SKETC'il. 
 
 21 
 
 witli liis blood. A few more solec-tious from hor 
 diary will show the working of her mind about this 
 time. 
 
 "AiKj. 7. A calm and quiet morning. A soothing 
 calm steals over my soul. Faith, with triumpliant 
 wing, rises far above the scenes of earth and points 
 to that glorious world where Christ ])leads for mr. be- 
 fore the throne of his Father. Tlie doul^ts wliich 
 have so long filled my heart are sinful and dislionoi'- 
 ing to God, and I will no longer give place to them : 
 I will look away from myself — from my sins — to th(5 
 holy Lamb of God. I will trust wholly in him and 
 in his merits alone for accei)tance.'' 
 
 " Sunday, Aug. 8. "What I have done to-day would 
 once have seemed impossible, the cross that I have 
 taken up would have seemed almost insupportable. I 
 could not have believed the last time I attended the 
 prayer-meeting tliat at the next one I should stand uj) 
 as a witness for Christ. But thank God! my proud 
 heart has in some degree been huml)led, and the dear- 
 est hope I now cherish is, that Christ may not be 
 ashamed to confess me before his J^'ather and all the 
 holy angels." 
 
 " Aiuj. 22. While standing this evening by the 
 grave of one dearly beloved in life, and cherished more 
 fondly now that death has taken her from my embrace, 
 I could not stay the soaring flight of fancy, which 
 would portray to my mind in vivid colors our meet- 
 ing at the great Resurrection morn ; and the thought 
 that that meeting was so near — that in a very little 
 while the grave should lose its power and that she 
 would come forth robed in immortal beauty, filled my 
 soul with transport and almost brought to my lips the 
 yearning cry, * Come, Lord Jesus, and come quickly.' " 
 
 On the 27th of August Miss Johns ox closed her 
 
 i ( 
 
 • \ 
 
 I 
 
 4\ 
 
 I 
 
 ' I 
 
 -. i\ 
 
 
 li m 
 

 22 
 
 CANADIAN WILD Jj'LOWERS. 
 
 school, and after spending a few weeks at home went 
 to tho academy at Derby Centre, Vt. Under date of 
 "Wednesday, Oct. 2(j,'^ we have this entry in her 
 journal : — 
 
 "Attended the exercises to-night and read a com- 
 position. They could not have liked it, for it was 
 upon a subject which must be disagreeable to the 
 world ; and yet it is the subject nearest my heart — 
 . one that I love to dwell upon and to hear about : the 
 coming of my blessed Saviour. When will the glori- 
 ous morn a^^pcar ! Loud and repeated cheers were 
 
 given when Miss read her composition. Well, 
 
 it was good ; such as would suit tho world, but not 
 me — strange being tliat I am. But I shall not always 
 be so : in heaven I shall not be a stranger. There I 
 can convf^rse with the saints dearly-beloved : for their 
 conversation will be on the things of God ; and my 
 Saviour himself will deign to address me there! 
 Why should I not then long, aye lonr; to obtain that 
 blissful state ? And yet I sometimes fear that I shall 
 fall far short of it, for I am so vile and polluted." 
 
 The "composition" referred to we do not find 
 among her papers; but much that she has written 
 shows that she was indeed deeply interested in "that 
 blessed hope " (Tit. 2 : 13). She was a decided pre- 
 millennialist, and stood identified in her church-mem- 
 bership with the Evangelical Adventists. On com- 
 pleting her eighteenth year (Oct. 27, 1.852), she said: — 
 
 " This evening, while looking back through all the 
 events of my life, what is there that rejoices me 
 most ? It is one that the past year has brought forth, 
 — one that will ever be remembered with deep and 
 powerful emotions : the day that consecrated me to 
 
I^uii 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 
 the Lord, v/hen I breathed forth with a fervent heart, 
 'Give me Christ, or else I die,' and I was enabled to 
 take up my cross and follow my Saviour in baptism." 
 
 Here there is no regret expressed for the step she 
 had taken, nor did she ever feel any, though she 
 greatly deplored her weakness and unprofitableness 
 in the Bord's service. And why not ? Listen to 
 her, under date of June 13, 1853 : — 
 
 " How sweet, when the soul has no earthly support, 
 to fly to the Kock of Ages ! The Saviour is precious 
 to the heart of the pardoned sinner. There is noth- 
 ing like the love of Jesus. He is not like other 
 friends — oftentimes wearied by our complaints and 
 the repetition of our sorrows, but is always longsuffer- 
 ing and delighting to hear and answer every cry of the 
 burdened spirit ; smiling ever in the darkest of afflic- 
 tions, and forever dropping the balm of consolation 
 into the distracted breast. Oh, A'/hat a privilege to 
 have such a friend — such a sure and steadfast friend 
 — such a wise and omnipotent friend. And he is m>/ 
 friend ? Yes ; he is ' the sinner's Friend,' and there- 
 fore mine : for surely nothing but wondrous loue 
 could have led him to die a cruel and ignominious 
 death for me, polluted as I am. O Jesus, thou art my 
 friend and I will be thy friend ; thou didst love me 
 first and I do love thee, but not as fervently as I 
 should, nor so much as I desire. God, give mo 
 more of thy Holy Spirit ; may it consume every unhal- 
 lowed passion, tear every idol from my heart, and con- 
 secrate that heart entirely to thee." 
 
 The only journal jiotes of considerable length which 
 Miss Johnson seems to have made were for the years 
 1852 and 1853. Those for 1855 and 18G0 were 
 
 '4*. 
 
 f' i;; 
 
 ^1 
 
 \ 
 
 M 
 
 '■n 
 
m-.m 
 
 T 
 
 24 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 entered in a " daily miniature diary." We find none 
 for other years, though she always kept her pen and 
 pencil busy in some way as long as she had strength 
 to write. The diary for 1855 is in rhyme — usually 
 six lines being allotted to eacli day. While some of 
 the verses are playful and witty, most of them are 
 religious and plaintive. The following are given as 
 specimens : 
 
 '* Arose at six o'clock today: 
 How swift tlie moments sped away 
 
 Engaged in household duties; 
 Then Virgil claimed awhile my care, 
 And Pope of time a larger share, 
 
 With all his sweets and beauties." 
 
 *' Mr. Goodenough and wife 
 
 Came here yesterday; 
 Through the changing scenes of life 
 
 Onward be their way; 
 And never may their path be rough 
 So long as they are Good-enough." 
 
 ** Received of Robinson to-day 
 For my ' Address ' a little pay: 
 The first of cash I ever had 
 For writing verses, good or bad. 
 O Lord, whate'er my gains may be 
 The tenth I dedicate to thee." 
 
 \ 
 
 " I would not seek the haunts of mirth, 
 For in the gayest scenes of earth 
 
 Are hovering grief and care; 
 But oft I find a soothing power. 
 At twilight's calm and peaceful hour, 
 In secret prayer." 
 
 *' Jesus, oh, precious name! 
 How sweet it sounds to me; 
 Come want, come grief, come death or shame 
 I'll cling, my Lora, to thee." 
 
LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 25 
 
 4 
 
 ill 
 
 " I'd rather be distressed with doubts 
 
 And find no sweet release, 
 Than be content to settle down 
 
 In false repose and peace ; 
 But, ah ! I wish I knew my name 
 In the Lamb's book a place could claim." 
 
 - -,f 
 
 " While here distressed I lie, 
 
 What joy my heart doth thrill 
 At the enchanting thought, 
 That Jesus loves me still 1" 
 
 " Sweet Sabbath morn! to me it brings, 
 As if on angel's airy wings, 
 
 Visions ot peace and rest: 
 I seem to stand upon the plains 
 Where an eternal Sabbath.reigns, 
 
 And dwell the pure and blest. 
 
 lis 
 
 I ' 
 
 ■ t 
 
 i vs 
 
 " I wept — when lo, my heart to cheer 
 
 J sobbing whispered in my ear: 
 
 ' Dont cry, for I will serve the Lord ;' 
 How sweet the sound I what great reward." 
 
 [Psa. 126 ; 5, 6]. 
 
 ** How little comfort have I known 
 In this dark vale of tears ! 
 For Sorrow marked me for her own 
 
 In childhood's early years, 
 And ever since, by night and day, 
 Has hovered round my lonely way." 
 
 Hi 
 
 ** 'Twas nearly two — but sleep had fled 
 
 My pillow for the night; 
 I rose — but all was dark around, 
 
 And I could find no light; 
 And then I knelt and prayed for those 
 Who, like me, found no sweet repose." 
 
 " Sick, sick, sick. 
 
 And gloomy all the day; 
 Sick, sick, sick, 
 Thus life wears away." 
 
 ^^B 
 
 4; I 
 
 
 ' '*' 
 
 ^Pl 
 
 
 ife 
 
 
 ; 1 ; * ■ 
 
 i 
 
26 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 il 
 
 " Murmur not, my troubled soul, 
 At thy Father's dealings; 
 Wild the billows round thee roll: 
 
 Yield not to the feelings 
 Of despair that gather round : 
 Troubles rise not from the ground." 
 
 [Job 5 : 6-8]. 
 
 ** How many souls around the throne 
 
 Once suffered here like me, — 
 Like me discouraged, tempted, tried, 
 
 But now for ever free : 
 They shout their griefs and trials o'er; 
 Then let me fear and doubt no more." 
 
 " At home all day ; I cannot pray, 
 Can neither read nor think : 
 O God, I cry; the waves roll high, 
 Support me or I sink." 
 
 " Did I murmur that the rod 
 Was so heavy, O my God? 
 I forgot the cursed tree, 
 I forgot Gethsemane, 
 I forgot the grief and pain — 
 May I ne'er forget again." 
 
 " Unworthy, wretched as I am 
 I hope for mercy through the Lamb: 
 His name, his glorious name prevails 
 When every other passport fails ; 
 It opens Heaven's eternal gate; 
 Then, doubting soul, why longer wait? " 
 
 " Sabbath after Sabbath comes ; 
 
 When will dawn the endless day? 
 Swiftly roll the wheels of time. 
 
 Swiftly pass the hours away; 
 Brighter and brighter from afar 
 View we now * the Morning Star.' " 
 
 *• And we, alas I are called to part: 
 * Farewell ' is said, with aching heart; 
 But God will watch o'er thee [ ween, 
 
!> H 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 27 
 
 And guide thee through each trying scene. 
 My dearest sister Josephine 1 " 
 
 " The glorious sun 
 
 His race has run, 
 And sweetly sought repose: 
 
 O that for me 
 
 This life might be 
 As bright — as calm its close! " 
 
 " What an awful peal of thunder I 
 O my soul, be still and wonder; 
 Yet another, and another — 
 Each one louder than the other; 
 God of heaven, I see thy power, 
 May I feel it hour by hour." 
 
 " A thousand twinkling stars to-night 
 Look down with soft and silvery light 
 And tell the majesty divine 
 Of Him who gives them leave to shine. 
 Oh, what an atom must I be, 
 And yot He loves and cares for me I" 
 
 " The wheels of Time — how swift they roll! 
 Dost thou consider, O my soul. 
 That it shall soon be said to thee: 
 * Time was, but time no more shall be ' ? 
 Then seize upon the pj'esent hour; 
 Improve it to thy utmost power." 
 
 In the fall of 1856 Miss Johnson was prostrated 
 by disease, and nearly all the time afterwards con- 
 fined to the house. So numerous and complicated 
 were her difficulties as to baffle the skill of all the 
 physicians who saw her, and no one knows the amount 
 of suffering she endured. Her mind however was 
 active and vigorous, and though there were seasons — 
 sometimes quite protracted — ^when to her the heavens 
 above seemed as brass and the earth iron, yet God did 
 
 ■Si I 
 
 fi 
 
 H.i 
 
 i 
 
28 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 not forsake her : the sunshine succeeded the stornip 
 and the peace that Jesus gives was poured into her 
 wounded heart. Referring to her afflictions in 1858 
 and the two following years she writes : — 
 
 " Those were days and nights of anguish, but I now 
 look back to them with feelings of regret, for my feet 
 had only touched the dark waters and my lips had 
 only tasted the cup from which I was to drink the 
 very dregs. Early in the spring of 1858 I was seized 
 with fever and acute inflammation of the stomach, 
 which brought me to the verge of the grave. I could 
 feel the warm tears of beloved ones upon my cheeks, 
 as they bent tenderly over me ; I could see the dark 
 vale just ahead (though there was a light amid the 
 darkness), but my sufferings were not to be so soon 
 terminated. Gradually my disease assumed a chronic 
 form, and physicians said there was no hope. The lit- 
 tle nourishment I could take distressed me so terribly 
 that the very thought of eating made me shudder, and 
 my stomach Ijecame so sore that I could not be moved 
 from one side of the bed to the other without utter- 
 ing a cry of pain. Winter, spring, summer and 
 autumn in turn visited the earth, and with each I 
 thought, aye, longed to depart ; but the great Ileliner 
 had his own purpose to accomplish, — ^there was a lit- 
 tle fine gold but the dross rendered it useless. The 
 ordeal through which I am passing is indeed a terri- 
 ble one, but I know where peace and consolation are 
 to be found, and there are times when I can say in 
 sincerity, ' Thy Avill be done.' " 
 
 Thursday, Jan. 1, 1863, she wrote : — - - 
 
 "Bright, beautiful day. Many people on the ice. 
 Edwin [her brother] there. Over our dwelling is a 
 shadow J it falls upon our spirits and we are sad. 
 
'? ]■ a! 
 
 
 LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 29 
 
 fl: 
 
 Will it never be removed ? God grant we may be 
 pjitient and grateful for the blessings we do enjoy, 
 for are not friends — true, tender friends, the greatest 
 and holiest of blessings ? and while we have them 
 God forgive us for murmuring at his dealings." 
 
 The last entries in her diary are : " Feb. 2. Very 
 sick " ; " Tuesday, 8rd. No better." It is uncertain 
 when the following lines were written, but it might 
 have been about this time : — 
 
 " I'm goinc; homo to that bright Land of rest 
 Where pain and .^rief and sicl<ness are unlcnown; 
 Tlie year begins in sorrow, but will close 
 In joys that never end — I'm going liomc! 
 Last year the warning came on sunken eye 
 And wasted cheek. I gazed and thought to spend 
 My Christmas with the angels. Clod knows best; 
 And here I linger, weaiy sulTei'cr still. 
 The morning comes long walched-for, long desired; 
 The day drags on, and then the sleepless night: 
 But this will have an end — it must be soon." 
 
 Al)out six weeks before her death she was taken 
 with nausea and vomiting : everything she took dis- 
 tressed her, and for the last twenty-three days she 
 took no nourishment save what water contains. Her 
 prayer— 
 
 " Close to the Cross, close to the Cross, God grant I may be 
 
 found 
 When death shall call my spirit hence, or the last trumpet 
 
 sound," — 
 
 was indeed answered. Her end was very peaceful 
 and happy. For several weeks not a cloud seemed to 
 pass over her mind ; and though often in great dis- 
 tress there was no impatience manifested, nor did a 
 murmur escape her lips. She said, " It is nothing to 
 
 i ( 
 
 v'i 
 
 ■il 
 
 
I II ill 
 
 30 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 die : * the sting of death is sin,' and when sin is taken 
 away the sting is gone." On another occasion she 
 remarked : " I have often heard the words sung — ' 
 
 ' Jesus can make a dying bed 
 Feel soft as downy pillows are ' — 
 
 and thought they were not strictly true ; but now 
 I know that they are perfectly, 'perfectly so." Once 
 as we stood by her bedside she observed her moth- 
 er and sister weeping, and with a countenance beam- 
 ing with joy (sufficient to remind us of 1 Pet. 1 : 8) 
 she expressed surprise, remarking : " It seems to 
 me I am only crossing a narrow brook, and as I 
 look back I see you all coming — we shall soon meet." 
 Her view of her own weakness and sinfulness was 
 indeed clear, but she had such unwavering faith in 
 her Redeemer as enabled her to say : " Dying seems 
 to me like laying the head back and closing the eyes, 
 just to open them in a few moments on the joys of 
 paradise." The following lines, written with a pencil 
 on the cover and blank leaf of her French Testament, 
 were the last she ever wrote. They are dated March 
 3 — ^just ten days before her death — and give indubita- 
 ble evidence of the clearness of her intellect and 
 the strength of her faith while passing through " the 
 valley of the shadow of death " : — 
 
 vj^** Jesus, I know thou art the living Word I 
 Each blessed promise to myself I take; 
 I would not doubt, if I had only heard 
 This — this alone, ' I npuer will forsake! * 
 
 I have no fear — the sting of death is sin, 
 And Christ removed it when he died for me: 
 
LIFE-SKETCH. 
 
 31 
 
 ^i . 
 
 Washed in bis blood, my robe without, \dthin, 
 Has not a stain tliat God liimself can see. 
 
 Wrapped in the Saviour's arms I sweetly lie; 
 
 Far, far behind I hear the breakers roar; 
 I have been dying — but I cease to die, 
 
 My rest begins — rejoice f orevermore ! " 
 
 Having expressed a wish to bo visited by all her 
 acquaintances, many called to sec her, with whom she 
 conversed freely on the interests of their soul. With 
 great composure she made arrangements for her 
 departure — leaving books and other articles to her 
 intimate friends. One day she made a request that 
 I should preach her funeral sermon. For a moment 
 I hesitated because of relationship (liaving married 
 her sister Josephine), then remarked, that I supposed 
 there would be no impropriety in doing so, as I recol- 
 lected that Whiteficld preached his wife's, to which 
 she immediately added, "And "Wesley preached his 
 mother's." On asking if she had thought of any pas- 
 sage to be used as a text, she replied : " I first thought 
 of the words, ' I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with 
 thy likeness ' ; but you know that is all about /, and 
 now I feel that Christ is all — it is all Christ : so I have 
 thought of his words in the 11th of John, ' I am the 
 Besurrection and the Life.' " She also suggested to 
 her sister that the following hymns (which were 
 favorites with her) should be used on the occasion : 
 
 " Come let us join our cheerful songs 
 With angels round the throne ; " 
 
 " On Jordan's stormy banks I stand 
 And cast a wishful eye," — 
 
 ;h- 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
CAXADIAX WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 " Joyfully, joyfully, onwnrd T move, 
 Bound for the land of bright glory and love." 
 
 The joyous (^liiirju^tci' of tlui hyiiins will at once be 
 noted ; and this was the very reason why she selected 
 them : she considered that they would be more expres- 
 sive of her condition than the mournful ones which 
 are so frequently used at funerals. Two of her poems 
 seem so appropriate here that we insert them. The 
 former was written in June, 1850, and the latter 
 bears dat(^ " Nov. DO, 1801 " :— 
 
 TIIK ONE NAME. — ACTS 4 .* 12. 
 
 " WluMi round my dying bed ye stand. 
 And kiss my cheek and clasp my hand, 
 Oh, whispcM- in my failing ear 
 The only Name 1 care to licar, — 
 Tlie only Xamo that has tho power 
 To comfort in tlic dying hour. 
 
 " Let neither sob nor sigh be heard, 
 But still repeat tliat sacred word, — 
 Until tlie solace it imparts 
 Descends like balm upon your hearts, 
 And I in triumph gladly sing: 
 *0 dreaded Death, where is thy sting?' 
 
 " And when released from sin and clay 
 My happy spirit soars away. 
 And pauses at the heavenly gate, 
 Where saints and smiling angels wait. 
 And views tho city bright and fair, — 
 That Name shall be my passport there! 
 
 ** Oh then, in calm and holy trust. 
 Give my poor body to the dust — 
 Assured that God will guard the clay 
 Until the Resurrection Day, 
 When he on whom my soul relies 
 In thunder tones will bid me rise. 
 
LlFK-SKKTOll. 
 
 33 
 
 " Amid tho eartli-dfivouriu!? storm, 
 Made like my Saviour's glorious form, 
 lledecmcd from sickness, deatli, and pain, 
 I shall awaku to life ai;ain; 
 And soul and l)ody both sliall be 
 With Christ througliout eternity." 
 
 .1 
 
 THE ADIEU. 
 
 " You will miss me when I am gone — 
 At morning, at night, and noon: 
 I have needed your arm to lean upon, 
 I shall need "it no longer soon. 
 
 ** I've been helpless for many years, 
 ' No burden ' you always said; — 
 I have claimed your pity, your prayers and tears 
 You will miss me when I am dead. 
 
 ** How many a dreary night 
 
 You have watched by my couch of pain, 
 Till the streaming in of morning light — 
 You will never watch again. 
 
 ** God taketh not all away 
 
 The bitter and sweet he blends, 
 And I bless his name by night and day 
 That he has not denied me friends. 
 
 "You have shared the heavy load. 
 
 Which alone I could not have borne; 
 I am going now to a bright abode. 
 But I leave you, alas ! to mourn. ; 
 
 " You will miss me when I am gone, 
 As you never have missed before I 
 I have needed your arm to lean upon ^ 
 
 But soon I shall need it no more. 
 
 " I lean on my Saviour's breast 
 In this hour of morlal pain; 
 Oh, strong are His arms! and sweet my iestl 
 Farewell! till we meet again." 
 
 The expected hour though long of coining arrived 
 at last. As long as she seemed to realize what was 
 
34 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 II!,. 
 
 transpiring around her, and when too weak to con- 
 verse, she would signify by a word or motion that «he 
 had peace and all was well. About a quarter past 11 
 o'clock Friday night, March 13, 18G3, "the silver 
 cord was loosed," and she sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, 
 aged twenty-eight years, four months, and sixteen 
 days. On the Tuesday following we buried her from 
 the village church, where ten years before she had 
 decided to come out openly on the Lord's side. It 
 was crowded. Three ministers, from as many differ- 
 ent denominations, assisted me in the services. Her 
 mother and sister (the wife of Dr. G. 0. ISomers) were 
 too feeble to attend. But we hope soon to greet her 
 where — ^to use her own words, 
 
 *' Earthly love is like the starlight lost 
 In glorious sunshine, and the things of time 
 Shrink into nothing: even death itself 
 Fades like a shadow in the noontide bla2e, 
 And life — new, glorious, everlasting life — 
 Expands the soul, and all it ever dreamed 
 Of heavenly bliss becomes reality." 
 
 Above the stillness of death we hear the words of 
 inspiration : " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the 
 death of his saints " ; " Thy dead shall live again " j 
 and in hope we wait. The weary pilgrim has reached 
 lier resting-place. She lies in the chamber of Peace, 
 whose windows open toward the sunrising. 
 

 
 
 1 
 
 --'•'i 
 
 it 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 ji 
 
 i\ 
 
% 
 
 Thou King of kings, Almighty One 1 
 
 bend unto me the ear 
 That listens to the music 
 
 of every rolling sphere, 
 And guide, oh guide my feeble hand 
 
 to strike my slumbering lyre 
 To strains harmonious and divine, 
 
 and every thought inspire. 
 
 —Poems, p. 9. 
 

 I 
 
 '' jl 
 
 
 iural ^(tm^. 
 
 THE WALK IN JUNE. 
 
 A walk in June, in early June, 
 
 Our sweet Canadian June — 
 "When every tree is all in leaf, 
 
 And every bird in tune ; 
 When laughing rills leap down the hills 
 
 And through the meadows play, 
 Inviting to their verdant banks • 
 
 The old, the young, the gay. 
 
 When not a cloud is in the sky, 
 
 Nor shadow on the lake 
 Save what the trees that line the shore 
 
 And little islands make, — 
 When every nook where'er we look. 
 
 Is bright with dewy flowers. 
 And violets are thickly strewn 
 
 As though they fell in showers. 
 
 Hov/ sweetly on the balmy air 
 
 The children's voices ring I 
 And even I renew my youth 
 
 With each returning spring. 
 Oh, we may keep a fresh young heart 
 
 Though outward beauty fade, 
 If we but cherish there a love 
 
 For all that God has made. 
 
 I do not call a happy man 
 The man that's rich or great j 
 
 ?'M^ .''iii 
 
38 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 lili' 
 
 It I 
 
 Kor him who stands with folded hands 
 
 And says, " It is my fate I " 
 But he is blest who cheerfully 
 
 Endures or does his part, 
 And looks on earth, and sea, and sky 
 
 With ?.n adoring heart. 
 
 He wanders by the pebbly beach 
 
 And by the summer brook. 
 And thoughtfully he turns the leaves 
 
 Of Nature's blessed book. 
 In forest shade, on hill, in vale, 
 
 Where'er he walks abroad, 
 There goes an humble worshipper — 
 
 A lover of his God. 
 
 The cares that trouble other men 
 
 For him have little weight ; 
 He values glory at its worth, 
 
 Nor cringes to the great. 
 His simple pleasures never fail, 
 
 Nor make his nature cold, — 
 And though the years may come and go, 
 
 He never can be old. 
 
 You call the picture overdrawn — 
 
 But such a man I know ; 
 Whose presence, like the morning sun, 
 
 Dispels each cloud of woe. 
 And trustingly I cling to him 
 
 As only true love can, — 
 My comforter, protector, guide, — 
 
 My love, thou art the man ! 
 
 And you are teaching me to look 
 On nature with your eyes ; 
 
^-m 
 
 KURAL SCENES. 
 
 The pleasant change within my heart 
 
 Each day I realize. 
 The world is brighter now to me, 
 
 A holier thing is life 
 Than even on that happy day 
 
 When first you called me wife. 
 
 The trifles that perplexed me then 
 
 Now leave my spirit calm, — 
 And for the deeper woes of life 
 
 I have a healing balm. 
 I see the hand of God in all, 
 
 I know that he is just ; 
 And where I cannot understand 
 
 I've learned to wait and trust. 
 
 Oh, I remember well the day — 
 
 'Twas in the month of June, 
 When every tree was all in leaf, 
 
 And every bird in tune, — 
 We walked together, arm in arm. 
 
 As we are walking now. 
 But I was young, and Time had left 
 
 No traces on your brow. 
 
 I listened with a strange delight 
 
 To every word you said. 
 And then to hide the burning tears 
 
 I turned away my head. 
 I dared not trifle with your love. 
 
 Though till that magic hour 
 I had not cared for aching hearts 
 
 If they but owned my power. 
 
 I never felt so vile before — 
 So humbled in mine eyes j 
 
 39 
 
wmmm 
 
 40 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I wondered what you saw to love : 
 I thought you must despise. 
 
 !For I was gay, and you were grave, 
 And I was vain and proud : 
 
 You loved the meadow and the grove, 
 And I the laughing crowd. 
 
 I told you frankly of my faults. 
 
 You would not hear me through ; 
 You said you were ?^n erring man, 
 
 And etfcf'uixjv angeis iow. 
 But would i show my better side ? 
 
 And would I deign to hless ? 
 You held my hand — what could I do ? 
 
 And so I answered, " Yts." 
 
 Do I regret it ? Nay, my love. 
 
 For were I free as then 
 The man I chose I still would choose 
 
 Before all other men. 
 And I would say. For life or death. 
 
 For happiness or woe. 
 Where'er you dwell there I will dwell, 
 
 Where'er you go, I go. 
 
 r That was a day, and that a walk 
 ' To be remembered long : 
 It changed the current of my life. 
 And made each thought a song. 
 There was a glory in the sky, 
 
 A glory on the trees. 
 And the perfumes of Paradise 
 Were poured on every breeze. 
 
 I scarcely seemed to walk the earth, 
 My spirit was so light ; 
 
RURAL SCENES. 
 
 'Twas easy then to shun the wrong, 
 
 So easy to do right. 
 New hopes began to bud and bloom 
 
 Like blossoms in the spring, — 
 My heart overflowed with tenderness 
 
 For every living thing. 
 
 I was no more the thoughtless girl 
 
 By idle fancy led ; 
 Life seemed to me reality, 
 
 And yet I did not dread 
 To walk along its roughest path : 
 
 I should not walk alone, — 
 Another and a better life 
 
 Was blended with mine own. 
 
 One blessing mor^i^nd theii^you said 
 
 Our joy would be complete ; 
 Your prayer was answered when I sat 
 
 At the Eedeemer's feet. 
 And deeper, holier grew our love, — 
 
 Our union was to be 
 Not only for a lifetime here, 
 
 But for eternity. 
 
 Thus peacefully we passed along 
 
 Till that eventful day 
 "When all the labor of our hands 
 
 Like chaff was swept away : 
 We saw our home made desolate, 
 
 Our pleasant cottage sold ; 
 Men called us poor, but we were rich 
 
 In better things than gold. . 
 
 !For we had lived an honest life j 
 We could look up and say : 
 
 41 
 
 !" i! 
 
 MM 
 
42 CANADIAIf WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 We never wronged a fellow-man, 
 Nor turned the poor away. 
 
 We held a treasure in our arms 
 Which every care beguiled ; 
 
 He never sorrowed, never sinned- 
 For Jesus took the child. 
 
 There is a little mound of earth 
 
 Where, when the spring appears, 
 We watch the budding violets. 
 
 And water them with tears. 
 Oh, it were more than earthly love 
 
 That soothed a parent's woe 
 When there we laid our darling down, 
 
 Full twenty years ago I 
 
 Sometimes my heart grows sad and sick 
 
 When to the past I turn. 
 And for a sweet and gentle voice 
 
 To call me mother yearn. 
 I see the silver in my hair, 
 
 The lines upon your brow, — 
 And oh, I wish our boy had lived 
 
 To be our comfort now ! 
 
 One moment — then the wish is o'er : 
 
 The sun begins to shine; 
 I lift my heart in thankfulness. 
 
 And say, "Thy will is mine." • 
 'Tis true, of poverty and pain 
 
 We both have had our share. 
 But do you think in all the world 
 • There is a happier pair ? 
 
 I know the harvest-time is near, — 
 I know the Reaper stands 
 
■"■^"■n, '•' FT!]; 
 
 
 IIUKAL SCENES. 
 
 Before us, and I tremble much 
 
 Lest he unlock our hands. 
 But God will be our strength and shield, 
 
 Our refuge in that hour ; 
 And he will join our hands again 
 
 Beyond the Eeaper's power. 
 
 Now let me wipe away those tears ; 
 
 Forget my gloomy talk, 
 And with your own improve the scene 
 
 And sanctify our walk : 
 So that with Nature's melody 
 
 Our hearts may be in tune, 
 And send up incense like the flowers 
 
 This pleasant day .in June I 
 
 43 
 
 I'M 
 Hi 
 
 AN EVENING MEDITATION. 
 
 How softly yonder pale star beams above my head 
 to-night I How beautiful it appears in the azure vault 
 of heaven where twilight holds the connecting link 
 between day and night. Oh, if my soul were freed 
 from its clayey fetters how swiftly it would fly (if 
 such a journey were possible) to the boundaries of 
 that sweet star ! Can that fair planet, seemingly so 
 pure and spotless, be inliabited by beings as frail and 
 erring as ourselves ? Can there be any sad souls 
 there to-night — any who are weeping over blighted 
 hopes and blasted prospects ? It may be so ; and yet 
 perchance such a thing as a pang of sorrow and a 
 burning tear are unknown, for it may be sin has never 
 entered there. Vain, useless conjectures I But will 
 
;!♦,, 
 
 44 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 the veil which hides the scenes of other worlds from 
 our eyes never be withdrawn ? . . . . Surely it is 
 because God is merciful that I have been spared 
 through another day. I cannot forbear wondering 
 that I have been spared so long, — ^that I have not 
 been cut down as a cumberer of the ground. God, 
 according to thy loving-kindness preserve me. Grant 
 that I may yet bo an humble instrument in thy hand 
 of doing something for the good of thy cause. For- 
 give my numberless sins and at last receive me to 
 glovy.—Jubj-20, 1852. 
 
 It is a lovely scene ; the sun has set. 
 
 But left his glory in the western sky 
 Where daylight lingers, half regretful yet 
 
 That sombre Night, her sister, draweth nigh, 
 
 And one pale star just looketh from on high ; 
 'Tis neither day nor night, but both have blent 
 
 Gl'heir own peculiar charms to please the eye, — 
 Declining day its sultry heat has spent. 
 And calm, refreshing night its grateful coolness lent. 
 
 The lake is sleeping — on its quiet breast 
 Are clouds of every tint the rainbows wear, 
 
 Some are in crimson, some in gold are dressed. 
 Oh, had I wings, like yonder birds of air. 
 How I would love to dip my pinions there. 
 
 Then mount exulting to the heavenly gate, — 
 A song of love and gratitude to bear 
 
 To Him who gives the lowly and the great. 
 
 In earth, and sea, and sky, so glorious an estate. 
 
 It is the time when angels are abroad 
 
 Upon their work of love and peace to men, — 
 
KURAL SCENES. 
 
 45 
 
 Commissioned from the dazzling throne of God, 
 They come to earth as joyfully as when 
 The tidings ran o'er mountain and o'er glen, 
 
 " A son is born, a Saviour and a King," — 
 For they have tidings glorious as then. 
 
 Since tokens from our risen Lord they bring. 
 
 That life has been secured, and death has lost its sting. 
 
 The twilight deepens ; o'er the distant hill 
 
 A veil is spread of soft and misty grey ; 
 And from the lake, so beautiful and still. 
 
 The images of sunset fade away ; 
 
 The twinkling stars come forth in bright array. 
 Which shunned the splendor of the noontide glare,— 
 
 A holy calm succeeds the bustling day. 
 And gentle voices stealing through the air. 
 Proclaim to hearts subdued the hour of grateful prayer. 
 
 PP' 
 
 i: 
 
 ^11 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 tl.' 
 
 
 ''i 
 
 ■ ' 
 
 
 ■:i'' 
 
 J 
 
 •i 
 
 NATURE'S RESURRECTION. 
 
 Hark ! it is the robin crying. 
 
 He has heard the voice of Spring ; 
 
 Prom the woods the crow is flying, 
 And the jay is on the wing. 
 
 Slowly now the sun is ranging 
 Each day nearer to the west ; 
 
 All things tell the year is changing, 
 Nature wakens from her rest. 
 
 Lower sink the snow-drifts daily. 
 Half the pasture lands are bare ; 
 
 And the little streams leap gayly 
 From their chains to breathe the air. 
 
!,:.■ 
 
 '1 ;!:; 
 
 46 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 While the barren earth rejoices, 
 Care-worn mortal, come away,— 
 
 Listen to the pleasant voices 
 Of the resurrection day. 
 
 Dost thou understand the token ? 
 
 Nature should not teach in vain 
 What its gracious Lord hath spoken- 
 
 That the dead shall live again I 
 
 THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 
 Two robins came in early Spring, — 
 When Winter's reign was o'er ; 
 
 And every morn I heard them sing 
 Just by our cottage door. 
 
 They built their nest of moss and hay 
 
 Within a maple tree, — 
 And thither every pleasant day, 
 
 I went to hear and see. 
 
 At first whene'er I came they flew, 
 
 Or eyed me in alarm ; 
 But soon my step familiar grew, 
 
 I never did them harm. 
 
 i * 
 
 One day a louder song I heard, 
 With eager cries for food ; 
 
 And then I helped the mother-bird 
 To still her hungry brood. 
 
 I always seemed a welcome guest ; 
 Both old and young I fed. 
 
RUltAL SCENES. 
 
 Then settling down beneath the nest, 
 Some pleasant book I read. 
 
 I watched them fondly day by day, 
 Until their wings were grown ; 
 
 When suddenly they flew -away, 
 And left me all alone. 
 
 The bitter tears began to start, 
 
 And full of sad regret 
 I wondered in my simple heart, 
 
 If birds could thus forget ! 
 
 Ah ! many summers have returned, 
 And many changes wrought, 
 
 Since I the mournful lesson learned. 
 In early childhood taught. 
 
 And many hopes have taken wings 
 On which my heart was set, — 
 
 And I have found that many things 
 As well as birds for get ! 
 
 47 
 
 GATHER VIOLETS. 
 
 Gather violets white and blue, 
 Where the southern zephyrs play ; 
 
 Bring them sparkling with the dew,— 
 With the blessed dew of May. 
 
 Let me fold them to my breast, 
 Emblems sweet of earthly bliss ; 
 
 Ha ! they love to be caressed, 
 For they give me kiss for kiss. 
 
'i' D "I 
 
 ;' 
 
 IKr.ll',,,' 
 
 I'm 
 
 !> 
 
 i 
 
 I i!!';i 
 
 48 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 How my weary heart doth yearn, 
 Touched as by a hand Divine, 
 
 While their soft blue eyes they turn 
 Full of sympathy to mine I 
 
 Do they know how much I sigh 
 
 For the meadows where they grew ? 
 
 For the forest and the sky. 
 
 Where they caught their azure hue ? 
 
 There is One who knows it all, — 
 To his loving arms I flee : 
 
 Oh, he hears my feeblest call, 
 And I know he pities me. 
 
 He ere long will take my hand 
 Saying tenderly, " Arise I " 
 
 He will lead mo to the land 
 Where no blossom ever dies. 
 
 TO A DANDELION. 
 
 Blessings on thy sunny face. 
 In my heart thou hast a place. 
 
 Humble Dandelion ! 
 Forms more lovely are around thee. 
 Purple violets surround thee, — 
 But I know thy honest heart 
 Never felt a moment's smart 
 At another's good or beauty, — 
 Ever at thy post of duty, 
 Smiling on the great and small, 
 Eich and poor, and wishing all 
 Health, and happiness, and pleasure, 
 Oh, thou art a golden treasure I 
 
■11 
 
 KURAL SCENES. 
 
 I remember years ago, 
 
 How I longed to see thee blow, 
 
 Humble Dandelion I 
 Through the meadows I would wander, 
 O'er the verdant pastuies yonder. 
 Filling hands and filling lap, 
 Till the teacher's rap, rap, rap, 
 Sounding on the window sash 
 Dreadful as a thunder crash. 
 Called mo from my world ideal 
 To a world how sad and real, — 
 From a laughing sky and brook 
 To a dull old spelling-book ; 
 Then with treasures hid securely, 
 To my seat i crept demurely. 
 
 Childhood's careless days are o'er, 
 Happy school days come no more, 
 
 Humble Dandelion I 
 Through a desert I am walking, 
 Hope eluding, pleasure mocking. 
 Every earthly fountain dry. 
 Yet when the ii didst meet mine eye. 
 Something lil ' a beam of gladness 
 Did illuminate ay sadiiess. 
 And I hail theu .iS a friend 
 Come a holiday to spend 
 By the couch of pain and anguish. 
 Where I suffer, moan and languish. 
 
 When at length I sink to rest. 
 And the turf is on my breast, 
 Humble Dandelion 1 
 Wilt thou when the morning breaketh. 
 And the balmy spring awaketh. 
 Bud and blossom at a breath 
 
 49 
 
i"^ 
 
 60 
 
 lili'jjn'i' i; 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 From the icy arms of death, 
 Wilt thou smile upon my tomb ? 
 Drawing beauty fi-om the gloom, 
 Making life less dark and weary, 
 Making death itself less dreary, 
 Whispering in a gentle tone 
 To the mourner sad and lone, 
 Of a spring-time when the sleeper 
 Will arise to bless the weeper ? 
 
 My Father made this beautiful world and gave me a 
 heart to love his works. Oh, may I love Him bettei- 
 than all created things ! • 
 
 3i! /!'!!!l!!ll!iiM! 
 
 The little plat of ground around our house is a 
 great field of instruction and amusement to me. How 
 little do I comprehend of all contained within it! I 
 am glad I was not born in some great city — where 
 Nature had not been so kind and dear a friend. 
 
 TO A ROBIN. 
 
 Robin Red-breast on the tree. 
 Do you sing that song for me ? 
 
 " You are listening it is true. 
 But I do not sing for you. 
 Higher yet on tiptoe rise, 
 Don't you see a pair of eyes 
 Peeping through the pleasant shade 
 
W' 111 
 
 KUKAL SCENES. 
 
 Whicli the summer leaves have made ? 
 There thoy watch me all day long, 
 Brightening at my cheerful song, 
 Turning wheresoe'er I go 
 For the evening meal below. 
 Dearest ipate that ever blest 
 Happy lover — ^peaceful nest, — 
 Guarding well our eggs of blue, 
 All my songs I sing for you I " 
 
 GOD IS THERE. 
 
 When the howling winds are high, 
 And the vivid liglitnings Ry 
 
 Through the air ; — 
 When the deafening thunders roll, 
 Peace to thee, troubled soul — 
 
 God is there ! 
 
 When the dreary storm is past. 
 And the promised bow at last — 
 
 Bright and fair — 
 In the cloudy sky appears. 
 Smiling still through Nature's tears 
 
 God is there ! 
 
 When the tender buds unfold 
 Bright with purple and with gold 
 
 In the air, — 
 Or, at twilight when they close 
 Wrapped awhile in sweet repose 
 
 God is there I 
 
 Where the robin chants her lay 
 Sweetly at the dawn of day, 
 
 51 
 
 9; _ IH! 
 
 I 
 

 Hi:-, 
 
 lilil'll- 
 
 62 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Or with care 
 Builds her soft and downy nest, 
 Lulls her little brood to rest, 
 
 God is there I 
 
 When the countless stars appear, 
 Ever to the listening ear 
 
 They declare : 
 He who sees the sparrows fall 
 Made us and supports us all ; 
 
 God is there ! 
 
 When the youthful knee is bent, 
 And to heaven is humbly sent 
 
 Grateful prayer, — 
 Bending from his throne above 
 Full of tenderness and love 
 
 God is there ! 
 
 Though his arm sustains the spheres 
 'Tis the sweetest sound he hears — 
 
 Child-like prayer ; 
 Seek then oft the peaceful shade : 
 There our Blessed Saviour prayed — 
 
 God is there ! 
 
 ' i 
 
 pi! jiiiiii 
 
 iii i 
 
 THE CANADIAN FARMER. 
 
 How beautiful thou art, my native stream ! 
 
 Art thou not worthy of a xooet's theme ? 
 
 The Po and Tiber live in ancient lays. 
 
 And smaller streams have had their meed of praise, 
 
 Art thou less lovely ? True, in classic lore 
 
 Thou art unknown, and on thy quiet shore 
 
 There are no monuments of other times. 
 
BUBAL SCENES. 
 
 63 
 
 Ko records of the past — its woes or crimes. 
 The roar of cannon and the clang of arms 
 Have never shook thy bosom with alarms, 
 And never has thy calm and peaceful flood 
 Been stained to crimson with a brother's blood. 
 The sportsman's rifle only hast thou heard 
 Scaring the rabbit and the timid bird ; 
 Or may be in the savage days of yore 
 The wolf and bear have bled upon thy shore. 
 But rural peace and beauty reign to-night ; 
 The harvest moon illumes with holy light 
 Each wave that ripples in its onward flow 
 O'er rock concealed amid the depths below, 
 And gives a strange, wild beauty to the scene 
 On either shore, where trees of evergreen. 
 Hemlocks and firs, their dusky shadows fling. 
 Around whose trunks the heavj'' mosses cling. 
 With maples clad in crimson, gold and brown. 
 Bright like the west when first the sun goes down. 
 
 Here from this summit where I often roam 
 I can behold my cot, my humble home ; 
 There I was born, and when this life is o'er 
 I hope to sleep upon the river's shore. 
 There is the orchard which I helped to rear, 
 It well repays my labor year by year : 
 One apple tree towers high above the rest 
 Where every spring a blackbird has its nest. 
 Sweet Lily used to stand beneath the bough 
 And smiling listen — but she comes not now. 
 A fairer bird ne'er charmed the rising day 
 Than she we loved thus early called away ; 
 But she is gone to sing her holy strains 
 In lovelier gardens and on greener plains. 
 
 There are the fields that I myself have cleared 
 Of trees and brush, and where a waste appeared 
 
■^ ' J 
 
 64 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 M 
 
 ■'I -'1,1 
 
 iliip 
 
 iii< -■; 
 
 ilir! 
 
 !i ill 
 
 I'M!;. 
 
 The corn just ready for the sickle stands, 
 
 And golden pumpkins dot my fertile lands. 
 
 There are the pastures where my cattle feed, 
 
 My gentle kine supply the milk we need ; 
 
 Sweet cream and cheese are daily on our board, 
 
 And clothing warm my snowy sheep afford. 
 
 There are the flowers my Annie loves to tend, — 
 
 How often do I see her smiling bend 
 
 To pluck the weeds, or teach the graceful vine 
 
 Around the string or slender pole to twine. 
 
 How often when the toils of day are done, 
 
 And I return just at the set of sun. 
 
 She comes to meet me down the verdant lane — 
 
 Sweet partner of my pleasures and my pain— , 
 
 With snow-white buds amid her sunny hair, 
 
 To win my favor all her joy and care. 
 
 How often does she wander forth with me 
 
 And share my seat beneath the maple tree, 
 
 And smile and blush to hear my ardent lays 
 
 Recount her virtues and pour forth her praise. 
 
 Hark ! 'tis her voice, sweet as the wildbird's song ; 
 
 She comes to tell me I have tarried long : 
 
 I hear her now an old love ditty hum. 
 
 And now she calls — I come, dear love, I come. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 Grateful to our sleepless eyes, 
 Lo, the beams of morn arise. 
 And the mountain-tops are gray 
 With the light of coming day, — 
 And the birds are on the wing. 
 With the happy birds we'll sing 
 
ff. 
 
 RUKAL SCENES. 
 
 Bidding doubt and gloom be gone, 
 Like the shadows at the dawn. 
 
 Yes, for eyes as bright as day 
 Glance adown the shady way ; 
 Gentle voices with delight 
 "Whisper, " They will come to-night , 
 Hearts as fond and true as ours 
 Wait for us in lovely bowers : 
 Nor shall wait for us in vain, 
 Faithful ones, we come again. 
 
 Where the bending willows weep. 
 And the mosses slowly creep. 
 We our harps neglected hung. 
 Soon again they will be strung, — 
 Forest, dell, and mountain stream 
 Will take up the blissful theme 
 When no longer doomed to roam 
 We can chant the praise of home, 
 
 Lo, in yonder sky the sun 
 Half his daily task has done ; 
 We will rest beside the spring, 
 While the bird with folded wing 
 Sits within his cool retreat. 
 Shaded from the noontide heat. 
 And the bees, with drowsy hum, 
 Homeward, honey-laden come. 
 
 Homeward too our way we hold. 
 Laden, not with paltry gold. 
 But with treasures better far 
 Than the richest jewels are : 
 Simple, trusting hearts, content 
 With the blessings Heaven has lent. 
 
 55 
 
 « 
 
!,. 
 
 56 
 
 IfHIilr^' 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Once within our love-lit cot, 
 Rich and great we envy not. 
 
 Lo, the shadows lengthen fast ; 
 Now the well-known hills are past ; 
 Now the forest, dark and tall — 
 Oh, how we remember all ! 
 Now the pastures strewn with rocks. 
 Where we used to watch our flocks, — 
 Farther do^vn the winding road. 
 See I it is our own abode. 
 
 i!!i 
 
 
 lin;;, 1 
 
 ii::i 
 
 
 Where the slanting sunbeams fall 
 On the lowly cottage wall, 
 Fancy can already trace 
 Each belov'd, familiar face : 
 One by one each form appears 
 Till our eyes are dim with tears ; 
 If the foretaste be so sweet 
 Soon our joy will be complete ! . 
 
 Here we are ! But all is still 
 Save the ever-murmuring rill, — 
 Save the hooting of the oavI, j 
 
 And the village watch-dog's howl. 
 Slowly swings the cottage door — 
 Shall we cross the threshold o'er ? 
 Empty and deserted all — 
 Echo answers to our call ! 
 
 Where the bending willow tree 
 Oft has sheltered thee and me, 
 Lo, the turf lias been uptorn : 
 We have come, — but come to mourn I 
 Eyes are dim and lij)s are cold. 
 And our arms we sadly fold 
 
 i 'l!^ • 
 
BUBAL SCENES. 
 
 57 
 
 Over hearts, till hushed and dead, 
 ^ever to be comforted I 
 
 No ; our hearts shall still be strong, 
 For the journey is not long ; 
 In a holy, deathless land 
 We shall meet our household band : 
 In the fairer bowers above. 
 They await the friends they love. 
 Oh, what joy with them to dwell, 
 Never more to say farewell ! 
 
 iiili 
 
 THE OLD SUGAR CAMP. 
 
 [Whoever has attended a " sugaring off " in the woods will 
 enjoy the reading of this poem — the description is so life-like 
 and exhilarating. It is a home scene.] 
 
 Come let us away to the old Sugar Camp ; 
 The sky is serene though the ground may be damp, — 
 And the little bright streams, as they frolic and run. 
 Turn a look full of thanks to the ice-melting sun ; 
 While the warm southern winds, wherever they go. 
 Leave patches of brown 'mid the glittering snow. 
 
 The oxen are ready, and Carlo and Tray 
 
 Are watching us, ready to be on the way. 
 
 While a group of gay children, with platter and spoon. 
 
 And faces as bright as the roses of June, 
 
 O'er fences and ditches exultingly spring. 
 
 Light-hearted and careless as birds on the wing. 
 
 Where's Edwin ? Oh, here he comes, loading his gun ; 
 Look out for the partridges — hush ! there is one ! 
 Poor victim ! a bang and a flutter — 'tis o'er, — 
 
58 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 If 
 
 1)1.^ 
 
 
 m - 
 
 
 j 
 
 li l!il 
 
 \\\: 
 
 1 Hull 
 
 \'/w^ 
 
 i 
 
 fa 
 
 ii' 
 li| 
 
 In 
 
 'II 
 
 '1 
 
 Ml. 
 
 !i i 1 ! 
 
 And those fair dappled wings shall expand nevermore ; 
 
 It was shot for our invalid sister at home, 
 
 Yet we sigh as beneath tlie tall branches we roam. 
 
 Our cheeks all aglow with the long morning tramp, 
 We soon come in sight of the old Sugar Camp j 
 The syrup already is placed in the pan, 
 And we gather around it as many as can, — 
 We try it on snow ; when we find it is done 
 We fill up a mold for a dear absent one. 
 
 Oh, gayest and best of all parties are these, 
 That meet in the Camp 'neath the old maple trees. 
 Renewing the love and the friendship of years, — 
 They are scenes to be thought of with smiles and' 
 
 with tears 
 When age shall have furrowed each beautiful cheek, 
 And left in dark tresses a silvery streak. 
 
 Here brothers and sisters and lovers have met, 
 And cousins and friends we can never forget ; 
 The prairie, the ocean, divide us from some, 
 Yet oft as the seasons for sugaring come. 
 The cup of bright syrup to friendship we'll drain, 
 And gather them home to our bosom again. 
 
 Dear Maple, that yieldeth a nectar so rare. 
 
 So useful in spring, and in summer so fair, — 
 
 Of autumn acknowledged the glory and queen. 
 
 Attendant on every Canadian scene, 
 
 Enshrined in our homes it is meet thou shouldst be 
 
 Of our country the emblem, beautiful Tree ! 
 
VM 
 
 illiif 
 
 KUKAL SCENES. 
 
 TO A RABBIT. 
 
 59 
 
 Go to the green wood, go 
 I oft sliall sigh for thee,— 
 
 And yet rejoice to know, 
 That thou art sporting free. 
 
 Go to the meadows green. 
 
 Where summer holds her reign ; 
 When winter spoils the scene 
 
 Wilt thou return again ? 
 
 A shelter thou wouldst find 
 From every howling storm ; 
 
 The heart thou leav'st behind 
 Would still be true and warm. 
 
 Why dost thou struggle thus ? 
 
 Does every balmy breeze 
 That softly fanneth us, 
 
 Tell of the waving trees ? 
 
 Do yonder hapfjy birds 
 That sing for thee and me, 
 
 For chorus have the words 
 So precious — " I am free ? " 
 
 Go then^ as free as they. 
 As light and happy roam 
 
 With thy companions gay, 
 Safe in thy forest home. 
 
 There — thou art gone ; farewell 1 
 My heart leaps up with thine ; 
 
 And I rejoice to tell 
 
 Thou art no longer mine. 
 
 4 
 
 •i I 
 (I 
 
'ic 
 
 i i' 
 
 60 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I could not breathe the air 
 Where pining captives dwell ; 
 
 My freedom thou wilt share, 
 "With joy then, fare-thee-well. 
 
 mu. 
 
 
 ll"' I 
 
 THE OLD MAN. 
 
 The old man's cheek was wet with tears, 
 And his wrinkled brow was pale. 
 
 As after a lapse of many years 
 He stood in his native vale. 
 
 The warblers sang in the leafy bough, 
 And the earth was robed in green ; 
 
 But the old man's heart beat sadly now 
 While he gazed on the lovely scone. 
 
 The stream ran clear to the distant sea, 
 
 The same as he saw it last ; 
 And sitting beneath an old elm tree, 
 
 He thought of days in the past. 
 
 He thought how he climbed the verdant hill, 
 Or roved through the forest wild, 
 
 Or traced to its source the rippling rill, 
 A gay and careless child. 
 
 And as he thought of the happy throng 
 ^J?hat around liim used to crowd 
 
 With the ringing laugh and the joyous song. 
 The old man wept aloud. 
 
 Por well he knew they would meet no more 
 On the dreary shores of time, — 
 
 But he looked away to a brighter shore, 
 He looked to a deathless clime. 
 
i( 
 
 KURAL SCENES. 
 
 That moment a young and merry group 
 Came bounding across the lea, 
 
 With rosy cheek, with ball and with hoop 
 They came to the old elm tree. 
 
 They paused awhile in their noisy play 
 
 To gaze on the aged man, 
 While he wiped his falling tears away 
 
 And in trembling tones began : 
 
 I would not cloud for the world your joy, 
 Or have you less happy for me — 
 
 For I have been like yourselves a boy 
 Though I'm now the wreck you see. 
 
 61 
 
 
 i|i' 
 
 " But let the words of wisdom and truth 
 In your memories be enrolled, — 
 And in the days of your sunny youth 
 Be kind to the ;poor and old / " 
 
 The children wept as they heard him speak. 
 
 And forgetful of their play 
 They wiped the tears from his furrowed cheek, 
 
 Aiid they smoothed his locks of gray. 
 
 He laid his hand with a tender air 
 
 By turns on each youthful head. 
 Then lifting his faded eyes in prayer, 
 
 " God bless you ! " the old man said. 
 
 And the boys were hlest : — for the angels flung 
 Around them their wings of gold ; 
 
 So ever they do when the gay and young 
 Are kind to the poor and old. 
 
G2 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I ! 
 
 THE FADING AND THE UNFADING. 
 
 Once more the beautiful Spring has returned, and 
 from my window I can behold the delightful places 
 where I have so often roamed in childhood light- 
 hearted and happy. But the lovely Spring brings no 
 longer the same emxOtions as of yore. Oh no I for " a 
 change has come over the spirit of my dream." Earth 
 has lost its charms, and although I love the beauties 
 of nature even better than before, still they cannot 
 satisfy, — they are doomed to fade, and my soul yearns 
 for those beautiful heavenly bowers which shall never 
 wither ; where God himself reigns in person and 
 " chases night away." But, although I sigh for such 
 things, am I prepared for them ? Should I be ready 
 at this moment to enter the paradise of God ? Ah, 
 my heart, why shouldest thou hesitate thus to return 
 an answer ? God is still able and willing to save, and 
 though I have wandered so far from Him, if with an 
 humble and penitent soul I confess my sins he is will- 
 ing and able to forgive me. — June 4, 1853. 
 
 iiiiiniiiii!: 
 
 ON RECEIPT OF SOME WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I bedewed with tears those spring-time flowers. 
 For they brought to my mind the happy hours 
 When I roamed through the forests and meadows 
 
 green 
 With a heart all alive to each beautiful scene. 
 
 I loved the flowers when my step was light. 
 And my cheek with the glow of health was ^ ^'^ 
 
14UIIAL SCENES. 
 
 G3 
 
 Through forest and moiulows, o'er i)laiii iiiul o'er hill 
 I may wander no more — but I love them still I 
 
 I love the flowers, and I love thom best 
 
 When they first peep out from earth's snow-wreathed 
 
 breast ; 
 l''or they tell, amid sorrow, and death, and gloom, 
 Of a spring that sliall visit tlie depths of the tomb ! 
 
 And oh ! could I roam through Fortune's bowers, 
 I would twine a wreath of the sweetest flowers, 
 Whose beauty and fragrance should ne'er depart — 
 Ikit brighten thy home and gladden thy heart ! 
 
 But the flowers of earth are fragile and fair, — 
 
 And the young brow must fade and be furrowed with 
 
 care ; 
 But hast thou not heard of a wonderful clime 
 That ne'er has been marred by the footsteps of Time ? 
 
 There in gardens of bliss the weary repose ; 
 
 There the pale, sickly cheek wears the hue of the 
 
 rose ; 
 There death never comes, — Oh, amid its bright bowers, 
 May we twine for each other a garland of flowers ! 
 
 THE SICK GIRL'S DREAM. 
 
 I heard the other night in dreams 
 
 The early robin sing : 
 The southern winds unlocked the streams. 
 
 And warmed the heart of Spring. 
 
 The plum-trees wore their bridal dress. 
 The willows donned their plumes, 
 
 . Ml f 
 
1 ■ ^^^ 
 i 
 
 I liii 
 
 ... 
 
 11^^ 
 
 r 
 
 64 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 And to the zephyr's fond caress 
 Gave forth their rare perfumes. 
 
 Through months of wintry frost and storm- 
 Yet never harmed by them — 
 
 A million germs had nestled warm, 
 Close to the parent stem. 
 
 The happy spring-time broke their rest, 
 They drank the morning dew, 
 
 They clasped the sunbeams to their breast, 
 And clothed the trees anew. 
 
 The clouds distilled the fertile rain 
 And sent it forth in showers ; 
 
 The sunlight danced along the plain 
 And painted it with flowers. 
 
 The butterfly went forth to play. 
 
 The useful honey bee 
 Kept up a hum through all the day . 
 
 Of cheerful industry. 
 
 The squirrel gamboled in the grove. 
 
 The rabbit bounded by. 
 The wary spider spun and wove. 
 
 And trapped the careless fly. 
 
 From out the joyous, vocal wood 
 
 The song of warblers came : 
 The cuckoo, in a merry mood, 
 
 Told and re-told its name. 
 
 And when behind the purple hill 
 
 The sun went out of sight, 
 The frogs began with hearty will 
 
 Their concert for the night. 
 
KUllAL SCENES. 
 
 C)5 
 
 Siicli scenes had made, in brighter years, 
 
 ]\Iy heart with transport leap. 
 But now they touched the spring of tears, — 
 
 I sobbed aloud in sleep. '' 
 
 And is there not some balm, I cried, 
 'Mid nature's boundless wealth ? 
 
 "Behold" — a gentle voice replied — 
 " Behold the Fount of health ! " 
 
 Just then a torrent met my eye, 
 
 Fresh from the rock it burst ; 
 I could have drained the fountain dry, 
 
 So raging was my thirst. 
 
 Such deep emotions filled my soul 
 
 I woke — the vision tied : 
 The moonbeams through the curtain stole, 
 
 Ah ! 'twas a dream, I said. 
 
 But well I know there is a land 
 
 Where flows the living stream; 
 And when upon its banks I stand, 
 
 Oh, then 'twill be no dream. 
 
 I- ! . <M 
 
 THE LAST SONG. 
 
 " Earth is fair, oh so fair," — 
 
 Sang a little, hapi)y bird ; 
 Though a prey to grief and eai'(^, 
 
 With a smile I lu^ard. 
 Sing again that blithesome strain, 
 
 Precious little bird, I said ; 
 For the heart that throbbed with pain 
 
 Thou hast comforted ! 
 
66 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 1 
 
 ji« 
 
 
 
 U ')*. 
 
 
 mm tii i'!J" 
 
 
 1 P 
 
 r'-!:!| 
 
 
 1 
 
 fe- 
 ll 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 if'li' 
 
 
 
 !i 
 
 S|'i 
 
 i 
 
 
 i! 
 
 fiiii 
 
 " Earth is fair, oh so fair," 
 
 Louder san^ the happy bird ; 
 "What have I to do with care, 
 
 Or with hope deferred ? " 
 All the western sky was red 
 
 With the beams of settinj^ sun, 
 As the sportsman homeward sped 
 
 With the fatal gun. 
 
 "Earth is fair, oh so fair, 
 
 And I love the green earth well," — 
 Death was in the balmy air. 
 
 And the warbler fell ! 
 Earth is fair — but earth no more 
 
 Wears its pleasant green for thee, — 
 Cold and stilt' and bathed in gore 
 
 Underneath the tree. 
 
 Earth is fair, Imt alas ! 
 
 It hath many scenes of woe ; 
 Happy they who through them pass, 
 
 Sweetly singing as they go, — 
 Comforting some lonely heart, 
 
 Making some weak spirit strong ; — 
 So may I, and then depart. 
 
 On my lips a song ! 
 
 AN EVENING SCENE. 
 
 How still and calm ! what fairer scene e'er met 
 
 The eye of mortal short of Paradise ? 
 
 The quiet lake is like a mirror set 
 
 In richest green where sunset loves to see 
 
 Itself arrayed in crimson, pink and gold. 
 
 And e'en the proud old mountain bows his head 
 
RURAL SCENES. 
 
 er 
 
 Shaggy witli hemlocks, and appears well pleased 
 
 To view so grand a form reflected there. 
 
 Hark ! o'er the polished surface how the loons 
 
 Call to each other, waking echoes wild 
 
 From crag and cliff, and waking in my heart 
 
 Sweet memories of other days and years 
 
 When health was on my cheek, and hope and love 
 
 O'er all the future wove one iris bright. 
 
 All, little prophets, do you then predict 
 
 A rainy morrow ? By yon crimson west 
 
 I doubt your warnings ; so in truth it seems 
 
 Does yonder farmer who, with shouldered scythe 
 
 From meadows fragrant with the new-mown hay, 
 
 Goes whistling homeward, glad to seek repose 
 
 Until another sun shall call him forth. 
 
 To gather into barns the winter's store 
 
 Of food provided for the gentle kine 
 
 That faintly lowing from the pastures come 
 
 Scented with herbage, giving prondse fair 
 
 Of pails o'erfl owing with a sweeter drink 
 
 Than ever gleamed in the inebriate's bowl. 
 
 Now o'er the landscape signs of twilight creep. 
 
 And sounds that tell of night — sounds that I love : 
 
 The hooting of the owl, the tree-frog's cry 
 
 By distance mellowed ; and — more distant still — 
 
 I hear the barking of the village dogs. 
 
 The breath of evening whispering 'mid the pines, 
 
 And deepening sh;ido\A s, bid me homeward turn j 
 
 And yet I linger — for I seem a part 
 
 Of lake and mountain, meadow, tree and sky, — 
 
 And realize how sweet a thing it is 
 
 To lay my heart so close to Nature's own 
 
 That I can feel its throbbing, while each pulse 
 
 Besponsive beats, and o'er my being steals 
 
 A rapturous calm like that our parents felt 
 
!!iiiil!>!i./ 
 
 Iiiri 
 
 \fm 
 
 11 
 
 l;;i 
 
 68 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEIiS. 
 
 Wlion to the bowers of Eden they repaired, 
 And praised their Maker seen in all his works. 
 
 Author of nature ! Source of life and light ! 
 
 Almighty Father ! let me praise thee too. 
 
 This lovely world is thine ; yon moon and stars 
 
 That now begin to usher in the night 
 
 Are but the outposts of unnumbered spheres 
 
 That march in order round thy dazzling throne, 
 
 And chant thy praises in perpetual song. 
 
 All these are thine, for thou hast made them all ; 
 
 And I am thine !' I thank thee, Lord of lords, 
 
 King of the Universe, Creator, God, 
 
 That while in part I realize thy poiver 
 
 I know it has an equal in the love 
 
 Which bowed the heavens and consecrated earth 
 
 When the IMessiah came to save mankind, 
 
 And in its proper orbit reinstate 
 
 A fallen world, which shall one day become 
 
 The fairest 'mid the sisterhood of orbs, 
 
 The most renowned because the dearest bought, — 
 
 The best beloved, because the ransom given 
 
 Was all that Gocl omnipotent could pay ! 
 
 il 
 
 kill.! 
 
 AUTUMN TEACHINGS. 
 
 The howling winds rage around my casement. The 
 summer is past, and everything indicates that winter 
 will soon be here. The seared leaves are falling from 
 their homes in the waving forests ; the earMi has 
 thrown aside her gay mantle of green, and one scene 
 of desolation presents itself to the eye. The decay of 
 nature brings with it sa'i and solemn reflections, how 
 
14UBAL SCENES. 
 
 G9 
 
 much more the decay of the human form — of which 
 autumn seems so striking a • emblem. The days of 
 man are £ew. Like the flower of the field he pcrish- 
 eth, and yet how few seem to realize it ! O God, 
 teach me to apply my heart unto wisdom. Help me 
 to love and serve thee, that when " the heavens shall 
 be dissolved and the elements shall melt with fervent 
 heat " I may not be among those who shall take up 
 the sad lamentation : " The harvest is past, the sum- 
 mer is ended, and we are not saved." — Oct., 1852. 
 
 THE WATCHER. 
 
 [As Miss Johnson lived in the house with Dr. G. O. Som- 
 ers, who wouklfrequciitly in winter cross lake Memplireinagog 
 on the ice in visiting Ills patients, tlio following, written on a 
 sick-bed, gives a graphic description of wliat her fears pictured 
 might be a reality.] 
 
 Night comes, but he comes not ! I fear 
 The treacherous ice ; what do I hear ? 
 Bells ? nay, I am deceived again, — 
 'Tis but the ringing in my brain. 
 Oh how the wind goes shrieking past ! 
 Was it a voice upon the blast ? 
 A cry for aid ? My God protect ! 
 Preserve his life — his course direct ! 
 How fAiddenly it has grown dark — 
 How very dark without — hush ! hark ! 
 'Tis but the creaking of the door ; 
 It opens wide, and nothing more. 
 Then wind and snow came in ; I tliought 
 Some straggler food and shelter sought ; 
 
 
 
 .1 
 
HU ni!lnl{!!iii! 
 
 [iiH pyifiiiii!'^ 
 
 70 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEIiS. 
 
 
 But more I feared, for fear is weak, 
 That some one came of him to speak: 
 To tell how loQg he braved the storm. 
 How long lie kept his bosom warm 
 With thoughts of home, how long he cheered 
 His weary horse that plunged, and reared, 
 And wallowed through the drifted snow 
 Till daylight faded, and the glow 
 Of hope went out ; how almost blind, 
 He peered around, below, behind, — 
 No road, no track, the very shore 
 All blotted out, — one struggle more. 
 It is thy last, i)erchance, brave heart ! 
 God ! a reef ! the masses part 
 Of snow and ice, and dark and deep 
 The waters lie in death-like sleep; 
 He sees too late the chasm yawn ; 
 Sleigh, horse and driver, all are gone! 
 Father in heaven ! It may be thus, 
 But thou art gracious, — pity us. 
 Save him, and me in mercy spare 
 What 'twould be worse than death to bear. 
 Hark ! hark ! am I deceived again ? 
 Nay, 'tis no ringing in my brain ; 
 My pulses lea]) — my bosom swells- 
 Thank God ! it is, it is his hells I 
 
^atriotlr ^omisi. 
 
 THE SURRENDER OF QUEBEC. 
 
 [Quebec is the oldest city in Canada, liaving been founded 
 by Champlain, in 1G08, near the site of an Indian village. It 
 was taken from the French, by the English, under General 
 Wolfe, in 1759, after a heroic defence by Montcalm. Both 
 generals fell on tlie battle-field, mortally wounded. In 1853 
 the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec offered a prize 
 medal for the best poem relating to the history of Canada. 
 Miss Johnson (then in her eighteenth year) wrote the follow- 
 ing, which took the prize.] 
 
 The orb of day upon liis pathway pressed, 
 Beaming with splendor, toward the shining west, 
 Cast one long, lingering glance upon the scene, 
 Lit up the river and the forest green, 
 Left his last rays upon the lordly dome, 
 And deigned to smile upon the peasant's home ; 
 Then 'neath the western hills he sought repose, 
 And sank to rest as calmly as he rose : 
 Bright at the dawn of day, but brigliter now, 
 When day had almost passed, and round her brow 
 Hung the expiring beams of dazzling light. 
 The certain presage of approaching night. 
 Slowly his gorgeous train, like him, withdrew. 
 Changing as they advanced in form and hue, 
 Until one lovely tint of fairest dye 
 Stole softly o'er the calm and cloudless sky ; 
 Day, gently smiling, left her gleaming throne. 
 And evening fair came forth, and reigned alone. 
 The twinkling stars the azure vault adorned ; 
 
 1 '■'■] 
 
 ^^n <"" 
 
 B 
 
 ' '' 
 
 • 
 
72 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Like glistening gems, a glorious crown tlioy formed, 
 And proudly sat in splendor pure and bright 
 U|)on the pale and pensive brow of night ; 
 While in the midst of all, with tran([uil mein, 
 Mild Cynthia lent enchantment to the scene. 
 
 Beneath lay spreading pastures green and fair, 
 And lofty hills and waving forests, where 
 The human voice had never yet been heard, 
 Or other sound, save when the dei)ths were stirred 
 By the loud screams of some lone midnight bird. 
 But high o'er all the lofty city rose, 
 Firm in its strength, sublime in its repose ; 
 On every hand by nature fortihed. 
 And strongly built ; with air of conscious pride 
 Gazed from its heights upon the scene below, 
 And bade defiance to each lurking foe ; 
 Confiding in its bulwarks firm and sure, 
 It calmly slept and deemed itself secure ! 
 
 The river swept along ; with surging roar 
 Its waves dashed wildly on the rocky shore ; 
 While on its broad, expansive bosom lay 
 The twinkling orbs in beautiful array ; 
 And every pearly drop slione clear and bright. 
 Bathed in a flood of soft and silvery light. 
 Scarcely a rij^ple stirred its quiet breast ; 
 Tor every sighing breeze was lulled to rest. 
 And every sound was hushed on earth, in air. 
 And silence held supreme dominion there. 
 
 Sleep sent his angels forth ; with silent tread. 
 From house to house, they on their mission sped ; 
 Watched by the couch of suffering and pain. 
 Soothed the pale brow and calmed the throbbing brain, 
 Eased the sad heart and closed the weeping eye. 
 
PATRIOTIC rOEMS. 73 
 
 Bade care and grief with their attendants fly, 
 Entered the chamber of the rich and great, ^ 
 
 Nor scorned to visit those of mean estate. 
 But blessed alike the lofty and the low, 
 Alike bade each forget their weight of woe. 
 The proud and wealthy drew around their breast 
 "The curtains of repose," and sank to restj 
 The pallid sons of want and hunger slept. 
 And sorrow's sons forgot that they had wept. 
 
 The night wore slowly on ; the dismal tower 
 Had long since tolled the lonely midnight hour 
 When a proud band, by daring impulse led, 
 Approached the river with a cautious tread, 
 With kindling eye and with an eager air, 
 Unmoored the boats that waited for them there ; 
 In silence left the calm and peaceful shore, 
 In sullen silence plied the hasty oar. 
 In silence passed adown the quiet stream. 
 While ever and anon a pale moonbeam. 
 Sad and reproachful, cast a hasty glance 
 On polished dagger and on gleaming lance. 
 
 The scene was mournful, and with magic art 
 It acted strangely on each manly heart ; 
 Ko speedy action now, no rude alarm, 
 Called forth their powers, or nerved the stalwart arm ; 
 No present danger used its strong control, 
 To rouse the passions of the warrior's soul ; 
 But all conspired to place Thought on her throne, 
 And yield the reins of power to her alone. 
 
 The past came slowly forth with all its train 
 Of blissful scenes that ne'er might be again. 
 Of mournful partings and convulsive sighs, 
 Of pallid faces and of tearful eyes. 
 
74 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOVVEUS. 
 
 Of aching lioarts that heaved with sorrow's swell, 
 And broken tones that sadly breathed, "Farewell I" 
 And in the silence of that lonely hour, 
 Which bade the sternest own its wondrous power, 
 A small, still voice whispered in eveiy soul, 
 Although each sought to burst from its control : 
 " To-morrow night the moon, as fair as now, 
 May shed her beams upon your death-sealed brow I 
 To-morrow night the stars may gild the wave 
 AVhile you, perchance, may fill a soldier's grave I 
 To-morrow night your spirit may explore 
 The boundless regions of an unknown shore ! 
 To-morrow night may find you with tlu; slain, 
 And weeping love watch your return in vain ! " 
 
 And yet not long such gloomy thoughts might rest 
 Within the soldier's brave and gallant breast ; 
 Not long the warrior, panting for the fiehl 
 And for the battle's horrid din, might yield 
 His fearless spirit unto sorrow's sway. 
 Or dread the issue of the coming day. 
 The momentary sadness now was o'er. 
 As with new hopes they neared the froAvning shore, 
 Landed in silence, and in stern array 
 Pressed firmly forward on their dangerous way, 
 Mounted the rugged rocks with footsteps slow, 
 Aud left the murmuring river far below. 
 
 From cliff to cliff the gallant army spring, 
 Nor 'envy now the eagle's soaring wing ; 
 They view their labors o'er, their object gain, , ' 
 
 And proudly stand upon the lovely plain ; 
 Gaze down upon the awful scenes they've passed, 
 Eejoicing that they've reached the heights at last. 
 Hope lights each eye and fills each manly breast, 
 Where wild desires and aspirations rest ; 
 
rATKlOTIO roKMS. 
 
 75 
 
 It bids each doubt and every shadow flee, 
 And points them on to certain victory 1 
 
 The morning dawned ; the orient beams of light 
 "Fell on a strange and a romantic; sight, — 
 On glistening helmet and on nodding crest, 
 On waving banner and on steel-clad Ijreast. 
 The city woke, — but woke to hear the cry, 
 " To arms 1 to arms ! the foe — the foe is nigh ! " 
 She woke to hear the trumi)et's wild alarms — 
 She woke to hear the sound of clashing arms — 
 She woke to view her confidence removed — 
 She woke to view her trusted safety proved ; 
 Her mighty bulwarks, long her pridi; and boast, 
 All safely mounted by a British host — 
 She woke to view her lofty ramparts yield. 
 Her plains converted to a battle-field. 
 Her gallant troops in wild disorder fly. 
 The British banner floating to the sky. 
 And proudly waving o'er the bloody plain, 
 O'er heaps of dying and o'er heaps of slain. 
 
 Housed from their hasty dreams, with brows agliast. 
 On every hand the soldiers gather fast. 
 Bind on their armor, seize the glittering sword, 
 Form in a line, and at a simple word. 
 With hurried steps advance toward the shore. 
 With hasty gestures grasp the trembling oar, 
 Across the river's bosom swiftly glide 
 And safely land upon the other side. 
 Drawn up in battle order now they stand. 
 Waiting in silence for their chief's command ; 
 Then onward move, with firm and stately tread, 
 With waving plumes and ensigns proudly spread. 
 With gleaming sword and with uplifted lance, 
 Where briglitly now the glistening sunbeams dance j 
 
7(> 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 But long before those sunbeams shall decline 
 Streams of dark blood shall tarnish all their shine ; 
 Those beams shall strive to gild the steel in vain, 
 For human gore the polished steel shall stain. 
 
 The sun rose clear that morn ; with ardent glow 
 lie shed his beams alike o'er friend and foe. 
 His golden hues the spreading fields adorn, 
 Waving in beauty with the ripening corn ; 
 Give richer colors to the lofty trees. 
 That gently rustle in the morning breeze ; 
 They gild the river's surface, calm and blue. 
 And shine reflected in the sparkling dew. 
 
 Oh, ye, who stand prepared for deadly strife. 
 Thirsting for blood and for a brother's life. 
 Behold the glories that around you lie, 
 The harmony pervading earth and sky ! 
 Behold the wondrous skill and ])ower displayed 
 In every leaf and every lowly blade ; 
 On every hand behold the wondrous love 
 Of Him who reigns in majesty above, — 
 Who bids for man all nature sweetly smile, 
 And sends his rain upon the just and vile ; 
 His attribute is love ; and shall ye dare 
 To take the life mercy and love would spare ? 
 Shall ye destroy what he has formed to live. 
 And take away what ye can never give ? 
 Shall puny mortal claim the right his own 
 Belonging to Omnipotence alone ? 
 Bash man, forbear I and stay the ready dart 
 That seeks to lodge within thy brother's heart. 
 B>ut, no ; for mercy's voice, now hushed and still, 
 No longer may the steel-clad bosom thrill ; 
 And hearts that melted once at other's woe — 
 That kindled once with friendship's fervent glow — 
 
rATIilOTIC POEMS. 
 
 77 
 
 Tliat onco had felt and ownod the soothing power 
 Oi' tender love — are callous in tin; hour 
 When sava.qe War makes hare liis awful arm 
 And peals in thunder tones his dread alarm. 
 
 But there were sovie m those devoted bands 
 O'er whom the blissful scenes of other lauds 
 Came rushing wil<lly ; and with piercing gaze 
 Tliey looked an instant on tlieir boyhood's days ; 
 Remembered well tlie hours that Hew too fast, 
 Eemembered some with whom those hours were past; 
 And, 'mid the group of dear companions gay, 
 Remembered well some whom they saw tliat day ; 
 But sprant; not forward with familiar grasp 
 And l'ri(uitlly air, the proifered hand to clasp ; 
 But looked away, and with a pang of pnin 
 Regretted that they e'er had met ;igain. ! 
 For now they met, not as they met before — 
 Not as they used to meet in days of yore ; 
 Not arm in arm, like brothers fondly tried, 
 Whom they could trust and in whose love confide ; 
 Met not as once with high and mutual aim. 
 In classic halls to seek for future fame : 
 But met as bitter foes, in deadly strife, 
 Each wildly panting for the other's life ; 
 With armies proud and swelling like the flood, 
 To wreath their laurels in each other's blood ! 
 
 I 
 
 They once were friends ; but France and England 
 rose 
 In sounding arms and they are hostile foes ! 
 They once were friends ; but friendship may not shield 
 The warrior's breast upon the battle-iield ! 
 They once were friends ; but, hark ! the cannon's roar 
 Loudly proclaims that they are friends no more I 
 From rank to rank the stunning volley flies, 
 
78 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEKS. 
 
 From rank !:o rank the groans of anguish rise ; 
 Bank after i ank is numbered with the slain ; 
 Rank follows rank, and bleeds upon the plain. 
 
 Bravely they fought ; with unabated zeal 
 In human gore they dipped the shining steel ; 
 Pressed o'er the heaps of dying and oi dead, 
 Where warriors groaned, and gallant heroes bled ; 
 While from their lips, in quick and stifled breath 
 Arose the crj'' of " Victory, or death." 
 
 Louder and louder still the awful roar 
 Pealed from the heights, and shook the frightened 
 
 shore. 
 Thick clouds of smoke enveloped friend and foe ; 
 The volleyed thunder shook the depths below ; 
 Mountain and echoing forest joined the cry, 
 And distant hills gave back the same reply. 
 With animating voice and waving hand 
 The British leader cheered liis gallant band, 
 Pressed tirmly forward where one endless tide 
 0* woe and carnage reigned on every side, — 
 Where streams of blood in crimson torrents rolled, — 
 Y/'here death smote down alike the youni^ and old ; 
 And where the thickest poured the deadly shot, 
 The gallant Wolfe with daring valor fought. 
 
 The dead and dying in his pathway lie. 
 Before him ranks divide and squadrons fly j 
 With stalwart arm, and with unerring aim, 
 He adds new glories to his former fame, 
 Keaps the reward of all his toil : for now 
 Fresh laurels twine around his youthful brow. 
 But what avail they ? for the fatal dart 
 Of death has lodged within that hoping heart ! 
 The lofty head that wore the waving crest, 
 
PATllIOTIC POEMS. 
 
 70 
 
 Kow sadly droops upon the bleeding breast ; 
 That mighty arm, upraised in power and pride, 
 Falls feebly down, and casts its sword aside ; 
 The laurel wreath entwines that brow in vaiu, 
 For, lo ! the hero lies among the slain ! 
 
 fought 
 
 long with courage and with 
 
 The French 
 skill; 
 
 With iron arms and with an iron will 
 Eushed bravely forward 'mid the battle's din, 
 Kesolved to die, or else the victory win ; 
 Like soldiers true, fought firmly and fought well, 
 And at their post like faithful soldiers fell. 
 
 Deeper and deeper now the conflict grows ; 
 Despair nerves these, and victory flushes those. 
 'Tis the last struggle ; hark ! " They fly ! they fly ! " 
 Pierces the depths, and rends the vaulted sky. 
 'Tis the last struggle, for the beating drum 
 Proclaims the conflict o'er, the victory won. 
 The French in wild dismay and horror yield, 
 And leave the British masters of the field. 
 
 Far in the rear a dying warrior lay. 
 While from his breast the life-blood ebbed away ; 
 Attendants bent around to staunch the tide 
 That flowed in torrents from his wounded side ; 
 With wild convulsions came each panting breath, 
 And those i)roud features wore the hue (jf death. 
 His lips were sealed, his beaming eyes were dim. 
 And strangely quivered every outstretched limb ; 
 Unconscious now he seemed of love or hate, 
 Unconscious now his spirit seemed to wait 
 The awful summons that should bid it fly 
 To worlds unknown, unseen by human eye. 
 He seemed like one already with the dead ; 
 
80 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 r 
 
 When, lo ! ho started — raised liiy drooping head ; 
 With dying hand he grasped his trusty blade, 
 With kindling eye the battle-liold surveyed, 
 Heard the triumphant shout, "They run ! they run!" 
 Knew that the field was gained, the victory won. 
 " Who run ? " he cried, with wildly throbbing heart, 
 With gushing breast, and livid lips apart. 
 ^' The French ! the French ! " — no more that warrior 
 
 heard ; 
 It was enough for him, that single word j 
 " I die contented ! " and his youthful head 
 Fell feebly back ; the noble soul had fled. 
 
 Oh, gallant Wolfe ! from o'er tlie dark blue sea 
 There comes a wail — a bitter wail for thee ; 
 Thy country mourns her warrior, true and brave. 
 And yearning iove weeps o'er thy lowly grave. 
 But nothing now may break thy tranquil rest, 
 Nothing disturb thy calm and quiet breast : 
 Nor clashing arms, nor cannon's deafening roar, 
 'Nov sorrow's wail, may ever rouse thee more. 
 ]^ut, when a voice, far louder than them all, 
 Shall bid thee rise, thou must obey the call, 
 And stand, bereft of earthly i)ride and power. 
 Before thy Judge. God shield thee in that hour ! 
 
 Remoter from the scene, with drooping head 
 And nerveless arm, another warrior bled ! 
 Death's seal upon that pallid brow was pressed ; 
 His icy hand lay on that heaving breast ; 
 lUit thoughts of victory lent no soothing balm 
 To cheer the spirit of the proud Montcalm ! 
 Ho lived to see his bravest followers die ; 
 He lived to see his troops disbanded fly ; 
 Nor longer cared to live, but welcomed deatli. 
 And with a smile resigned his fleeting breath j 
 
PATRIOTIC rOEMS. 
 
 Gl 
 
 Stretched his proud limbs, without a sigh or groan, 
 And death had claimed the hero for his own. 
 
 The strife was o'er, the dreadful combat past ; 
 The echoing hills had found repose at last ; 
 Carnage had done its work on every side, 
 And even greedy death was satisfied ! 
 The sun ^, ent down ; how changed from yester night I 
 How changed his aspect, and how changed the sight 
 Ou which he gazed ! Then his last gold(;n beam 
 Pell on a landscape fair — a quiet scene — 
 Where now destruction reared its stand;ird dread 
 O'er shattered bodies and o'er severed head. 
 
 Heap upon heap the pallid victims lay, 
 Of racking pain and scorching thirst the prey ; 
 In anguish rolled upon the bloody ground, 
 And wider still tlioy tore each gaping wound ; 
 In concert joined tlieir agonizing cries. 
 Gnashed with their teeth and rolled their blood-shot 
 
 eyes j 
 With feeble groans they drew each painful breath. 
 And racked with torments called aloud for death ! 
 Far o'er the field in Avild confusion I'ose 
 Piles of the ghastly dead — of friends and foes — 
 In death stretched side by side, mangled and cold 
 While over all the sulphurous Avar-clouds rolled. 
 In dark, dense columns mounted up on high, 
 Tainting the air, polluting all the sky. 
 
 Quebec was won ; and o'er each lofty tower 
 The British banner streamed in pride and power ; 
 Where the French eagle once her wings had spread 
 The British lion reared his haughty head. 
 And shook the conquered country with his roar ; 
 The eagle flew in terror from the shore. 
 
82 
 
 CANADIAN "WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 With drooping plumage skimmed the western main, 
 And, trembling, sought her native France again; 
 While England, proud and potent, took the sway 
 And waved her sceptre over Canada. 
 
 SONG OF THE ENGLISH PEASANT GIRL 
 
 [The irarriage in 1858 of Prince Frederick William of Prus- 
 sia to Victoria Adelaide Mary, eldest daughter of the Queen of 
 England ; and the visit of Albert Ed^vard, Prince of Wales, to 
 Canada, in 18G0, were events of sufficient magnitude to arouse 
 the patriotism of our Canadian poetess, and we find reference 
 made to them in this and the two following pieces.] 
 
 I am but a rustic maiden 
 
 Dwelling by the river side, 
 But I'm happy as the Princess 
 
 Who today becomes a bride. 
 
 I am but a peasant's daughter, 
 
 All his life in toil is spent, 
 But he loves me as Prince Albert 
 
 Loves his child, and I'm content. 
 
 Though the Queen of many nations, 
 
 Centre of each Royal scene. 
 Better than I love my mother. 
 
 Does tie Princess love the Queen ? 
 
 Are Prince Leopold and Arthur, 
 Though within a palace bred. 
 
 Dearer than my little brothers 
 Playing 'neath the cottage shed ? 
 
 There's a group of Royal sisters 
 
 Clustering round the English throne, 
 
PATKIOTIC POEMS. 
 
 But I know tlicy are not truer, 
 Better sisters than mine own. 
 
 Hark ! it is the trumpet sounding ; 
 
 At the Prince of Prussia's side 
 Standeth now her Eoyal Highness ; 
 
 Oh, I would not be the bride ! 
 
 Eor a manly voice hath whispered, 
 " Dearer than my life thou art ! " 
 
 "What care I who rules a kingdom 
 If I rule in Jamie's heart ? 
 
 I am but a peasant's daughter, 
 And the wealthy pass me by, — 
 
 But there's not in merry England 
 A happier maid than I. 
 
 89 
 
 A NATION'S DESIRE. 
 
 God hear our fervent prayer, 
 God bless the royal pair, 
 
 God save the Queen I 
 Guide them in all their ways, 
 And may their wedded days 
 Be ordered to tliy praise ; 
 
 God save the Queen ! 
 
 The waves will soon divide 
 Thee and thy home, young bride ; 
 
 God save the Queen ! 
 But over land and sea 
 Warm hearts will follow thee, 
 First rose of England's tree ; 
 
 God save the Queen. 
 
84 
 
 t .. 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 CANADA'S WELCOME. 
 
 A nation's hearty welcome take, 
 
 Heir to a mighty throne ; 
 Thrice welcome ! for old England's sake, 
 
 Thy mother's, and thine own. 
 
 Prom crowded street, from hillside green, 
 
 From fair Canadian vales, 
 The prayer goes up — God bless the; Queen I 
 
 God bless the Prince of Wales ! 
 
 G?he rich and poor, the great and small 
 
 Their voices join as one ; 
 Victoria's name is dear to all. 
 
 So is Victoria's Son. 
 
 Their tribute other queens have laid 
 
 Upon the land and sea ; 
 But never earthly monarch swayed 
 
 So many hearts as she. 
 
 And for her young and gallant heir 
 
 A kindred love prevails ; 
 God hear a nation's fervent prayer ! 
 
 God bless the Prince of Wales ! 
 
 |i |ii 
 
 OUR NATIVE LAND. 
 
 [This was probably writton in tlio early part of the year 
 1861, before Lincoln's Emaucipatioii Proclamation had given 
 deliverance to the captives, and when "the north star" was 
 an object dear to many a slave who longed to breathe the 
 free air of Canada. The Rev. E. II. Dewart says of it : " This 
 spirited lyric is alike creditable to the talents, patriotism, and 
 independence of its author. Its loyalty is an intelligent attain- 
 ment, free from blind prejudice and crouching adulation." 
 

 1^ 
 
 PATlilUTJC rOEMS. 
 
 What land more beautiful tlian ours ? 
 
 What other land more blest ? 
 The South with all its wealth of flowers ? 
 
 The prairies of the West ? 
 
 Oh no ! there's not a fairer land 
 
 Beneath yon azure dome — 
 Where Peace holds Plenty by the hand, 
 
 And Freedom finds a home. 
 
 The slave who but her name hath heard, 
 
 Kepeats it day and night, 
 And envies every little bird 
 
 That takes its northward flight. 
 
 As to the Polar star they turn 
 
 Who brave a pathless sea : 
 So the oppressed in secret yearn, 
 
 Dear native land, for thee ! 
 
 How many loving memories throng 
 Round Britain's stormy coast ! 
 
 Renowned in story and in song. 
 Her glory is our boast. 
 
 With loyal hearts we still abide 
 Beneath her sheltering wing, — 
 
 While with true patriot love and pride. 
 To Canada we cling. 
 
 We wear no haughty tyrant's chain, — 
 
 We bend no servile knee, 
 When to the Mistress of the main 
 
 We pledge our fealty. 
 
 She binds us wdth the cords of love, — 
 All others we disown : 
 
 iiill* 
 

 8G 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 The rights we owe to God above, 
 We yield to him alone. 
 
 May He our future course direct 
 By his unerring hand ; 
 
 Our laws and liberties protect, 
 And bless our native land. 
 
 THE APPEAL 
 
 [It will be remembered that 1801 closed with an alarming 
 prospect of war between England and tlie United States, grow- 
 ing partly out of the arrest of Mason and Slidell on board the 
 Uritish steamship Trent. Of course had war been declared 
 Canada would have been involved. On Christmas of that 
 year therefore JMiss JonNSON wrote this appeal, which was 
 published in a Canadian paper:] 
 
 To prayer ! to prayer ! ye who love 
 
 Your country's peace, your country's weal, 
 To Him who rules supreme above, 
 
 In this dark hour of peril kneel. 
 To prayer ! to prayer ! before the cry 
 
 " To arms ! " shall make your spirit quake, — 
 And ere ye dream of danger nigh 
 
 The dark portentous war-cloud break. 
 
 So long hath Peace o'er hill and vale 
 
 Waved her white banner to the breeze, 
 We thought her smiles would never fail, 
 
 And only heard from o'er the seas 
 The murmur of an angry host, 
 
 The clang of arms, the cannon's roar, — 
 How false our hope ! how vain our boast ! 
 
 War threatens our beloved shore. 
 

 PATKIOTIC POEMS. 87 
 
 Great God ! to whom the nations seem 
 
 Like dust that gathers on the scales, 
 A drop within a mighty sti-eam, 
 
 A breath amid tliQ nortliern gales, 
 We pray, the hearts of men dispose 
 
 So that the sounds of war may cease. 
 And nations who should ne'er be foes 
 
 Embrace, and pledge themselves to Peace. 
 
 I LOVE THE LAND WHERE I WAS BORN. 
 
 [The following poem appeared in the Shcrbrooke (P. Q.) 
 Gazette, sometime in the winter of 18G3, and was the last arti- 
 cle prepared by Miss Jounsox for the press. It is of special 
 interest for having been written during the dark days of the 
 war in the United States, and when the sympathy of England 
 and Canada for the North was by many questioned.] 
 
 I love the land where I was born, 
 
 'Tis a noble land and good ; 
 It has many a field of wheat and corn 
 
 Where once the forest stood ; 
 It has many a town and city grand, 
 
 Where the Savage used to roam ; 
 To the i^oor of every other land 
 
 It offers a peaceful home. 
 
 I'm proud of the land where I was born, 
 
 I'm proud of the Parent Isle, 
 Whose banners float at the gates of morn. 
 
 And the gates of eve the while. 
 And my pulses leap with a joyous thrill, 
 
 AVherever they take the lead, 
 And join their hands with a hearty will 
 
 In doing a noble deed. 
 
li 
 
 ilii 
 
 if II' 
 
 88 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEUS. 
 
 There's another land that's dear to nie, 
 
 For it speaks the English tongue ; 
 Like a shoot that springs from au old oak tree, 
 
 From the English race it sprung. 
 It has gained a mighty place on earth, 
 
 And a mighty name has won ; 
 It has given to sage and iiero birth, 
 
 And it boasts of Washington. 
 
 But a blot, a dark and loathsome blot, 
 
 Polluted that fair young land ; 
 God waited till his wrath was hot. 
 
 And he took his sword in hand ! 
 He had heard the bitter wail of woe. 
 
 He had heard the clanking chain — 
 He rescued a nation years ago, 
 
 He will rescue one again ! 
 
 There's a gathering darkness in the sky, 
 
 There's a tramp of hurrying feet ; 
 There's a clang of arms, and a battle cry, 
 
 And two hostile armies meet. 
 They meet ! they charge ! 'tis a dreadful sight ! 
 
 They wade through a gory sea ; 
 It is life or death, it is wrong or right. 
 
 It is freedom or slavery ! 
 
 The nations stand with a wondering look. 
 
 And list to the roar and din ; 
 "While History bends o'er an open book 
 
 And steadily writes therein. 
 And what will she say of my native land ? 
 
 A lid what of the Parent Isle ? 
 : V ;lie North, or South, did they give their hand, 
 
 ; J which did they grant a siuile ? 
 
PATKIOTIC rOEMS. 8^ 
 
 God sjicaks in the wind and earthquake now, 
 
 And those who have ears may hear : 
 To the King of kings let nionarchs bow, 
 
 And let all the earth draw nc^ar. 
 Let the nations mark his holy laws, 
 
 For though he keeps silence long, 
 With lire and sword He will plead the cause 
 
 Of the weak against the strong. 
 
 Take heed and beware, my native land, — 
 
 To thy ways and words take heed ! 
 On the side of right and freedom stand, 
 
 And say to the truth, " God speed ! " 
 Let England herself a lesson learn, 
 
 And let her take warning too ; 
 Let her judge as she would be judged in turn, 
 
 Let her nobly speak and do. 
 
 THE WORLD TO COME. 
 
 [Dear as Canada wns to our authoress, dearer still to her 
 heart was the true Father-Land, " the heavenly country - for 
 which the children of faith in the olden time looked. Ueing 
 born again she bore such a relationship to the world to come 
 that we may say of her, as she does of " the bride of Christ " : 
 " The Cross was inlinitely dearer to her than ten thousand 
 worlds. It was twined around her heart with ties that noth- 
 ing could over loose. She wept, but they were mingled tears 
 of joy and sorrow: sorrow, for she mourned that her sins had 
 cost the life of the Son of God; joy, for she know that that 
 sacrifice had made a perfect atonement for lier. Sim knew 
 that the Father had forgiven her iniquities, and that he would 
 no longer remember her sins. As she clung to the Cross, a 
 bright beam of glory shone around her; she raised her tearful 
 eyes, and a crown of everlasting beauty met her admiring 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 ■' IIM nil ~ 
 
 Ui 
 
 I.I 
 
 136 
 
 :. 4 
 
 2.2 
 2.0 
 
 8 
 
 
 1.25 
 
 1.4 
 
 1.6 
 
 
 ^ 6" — 
 
 
 > 
 
 /] 
 
 <^ 
 
 ^a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^3 
 
 
 
 <? 
 
 / 
 
 rSt 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 <v 
 
 n^' 
 
 V 
 
 % 
 
 <^ 
 
 '40^ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 6^ 
 
 ^ .*x4,<' 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
42^ 
 
90 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 1 1 
 
 gaze : she knew that crown was reserved for her, and that on 
 her bridal day her Lord would place it on her own brow." 
 With such an experience and such a hope, we are nou sur- 
 prised that she should thus discourse :] 
 
 The earth renewed presents a glorious scene : 
 Mountains and valleys of perpetual green ; 
 Delicious plains, and odoriferous bowers, 
 Unfading forests, never-dying flowers ; 
 Fruits that on fragrant trees immortal grow, 
 Eivers that murmur sweetly as they flow. 
 And gardens decked with everlasting spring. 
 And shining warblers on the tireless wing. 
 No howling tempest breaks the sweet repose, 
 No piercing thorn surrounds the blushing rose. 
 No sultry heat parches those blooming plains, 
 No night is known where day forever reigns ; 
 No thunder's roar, no lightning's vjivid glare. 
 No darkened sky, disturbs the beauty there. 
 
 The royal city, the divine abode 
 
 Of ransomed men and their eternal God, 
 
 Eises 'mid blooming bowers and lofty trees, 
 
 And waves its banners to the gentle breeze. 
 
 Upon its pearly gates and shining walls 
 
 A flood of everlasting glory falls, 
 
 And tinges with its own delightful glow 
 
 The lovely river murmuring below. 
 
 That river from the living fountain springs. 
 
 And, guided by the mighty King of kings. 
 
 It wanders through the saints' celestial home. 
 
 Where, robed in white, the ransomed nations roam 
 
 Through golden streets, and gardens fair and free j 
 
 And on its banks stands life's unfadi:.:g tree. 
 
 All, all is bliss, and love, and glory there ; 
 
 No pain, no sickness, no corroding care. 
 
 No grief, no aching hearts, no tearful eyes, 
 
PATRIOTIC POEMS, 
 
 91 
 
 Kg broken bands, and there no severed ties ; 
 For, o'er those broad and beautiful domains 
 The Prince of peace, the great Immanuel reigns. 
 The good have met, of every age and land. 
 Around the throne a glorious throng they stand ; 
 The crown of life, the blood-washed robes they wear. 
 The conqueror's palms of victory they bear j 
 They bend the knee, they raise the joyful eye ; 
 And hark I Oh, hark ! that vast assembly cry : 
 " Worthy the Lamb to be exalted thus. 
 Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us ! " 
 And angels with the ransomed millions sing, | 
 
 " Glory and honor to our God and King I " 
 
$4mvtvm(t. 
 
 A WELCOME TO A TEMPERANCE PICNIC. 
 
 Old and young are welcome here 
 
 To the banquet we have spread : 
 It will cause no bitter tear 
 
 When the festal hour is fled ; 
 It will break no mother's heart, 
 
 For the deadly bowl we shun ! 
 Welcome then — and when we part 
 
 Blessings go with every one. 
 
 jThe following lines were also written by Miss Johnson for 
 a temperance picnic, held in a grove near her father's house. 
 They were read by her brother Edwin, now a lawyer in Stan- 
 stead, P. Q.] 
 
 From north and south, from east and west 
 They como with banners gay ; 
 
 Hope I'^hts each eye and fills each breast, 
 And all are friends to-day. 
 
 The fairest of the sister band — 
 With greeting most sincere, — 
 
 Magog extends an eager hand. 
 And bids you welcome here ! 
 
 Hail, brothers in a noble cause, 
 'Tis well we thus should meet : 
 
 For every meeting closer draws 
 The bonds of union sweet. 
 
TEMPERANCE. 
 
 93 
 
 Mr, 
 
 And we who battle for the right, 
 And breathe the solemn vow 
 
 To win or perish in the fight, 
 Should be united now. 
 
 Up, brothers, up ! to arms ! to arms I 
 The sword must needs be drawn : 
 
 These are indeed no vain alarms, 
 The foe is marching on ! 
 
 And shall he blight our happy land 
 With his polluting breath ? 
 
 And scatter woe on every hand. 
 And in/ami/ and death ? 
 
 By yonder mountain and by lake 
 Which their approval show, — 
 
 For each beloved Township's sake, 
 We boldly answer — No ! 
 
 Then let our banners be unfurled, 
 'Mid scorn or 'mid applause ; 
 
 We dare proclaim to all the world 
 We love the temperance cause ! 
 
 A LIFE-SCENE-THE LETlER. 
 
 J' 
 
 " I'm at work upon the railroad 
 So the brother's letter ran, — 
 " I'm at work UT:on the railroad, 
 With the wages of a man. 
 
 " I am up at peep of morning, 
 And I only stop to eat ; 
 But I bear it all extremely well 
 Except the noon-day heat. 
 
 ;: ii a 
 
 ■ 1 ifi 
 
 ,,, !,i • 
 
 !i 
 
 
94 
 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 '* I do not feel much homesick, 
 Though I think of other scenes, 
 And what you have for dinner 
 When I eat my pork and beans ! 
 
 " 'Tis the time for pies and dumplings, 
 Currant jelly and all that, 
 For an hour in mother's pantry 
 I'd give my bran-new hat. 
 
 " You wrote about the chickens. 
 About the crops and hay ; 
 But not a word about the colts — 
 The black one or the gray. 
 
 " Tell father not to worry 
 About that note at all : 
 I shall have a hundred dollars 
 I can send him in the fall. 
 
 " You cannot think how proudly 
 It makes my bosom swell, 
 To think that I am toiling 
 For those I love so well. 
 
 " Tell mother I remember 
 Her parting words to me ; 
 And all that she has prayed for 
 I hope I yet may be. 
 
 " The workmen bring the bottle. 
 They say, * Just take a sip j ' 
 But, mother, not a single drop 
 Shall ever touch my lip. 
 
 " Here's a kiss for brother Charley— 
 The little roguish elf. 
 
TEMPERANCE. 
 
 I hope he'll not forget me, — 
 And another for yourself. 
 
 " How much I want to see you 
 I will not try to tell j 
 I never knew I loved my home 
 And all my friends so well ! 
 
 " My lamp is burning dimly, 
 So, sister dear, good-night ; 
 Think often of your brother, 
 And don't forget to write." 
 
 The sister read the letter 
 With a look of pride and joy ; 
 
 And the father and the mother said, 
 " God bless the darling boy ! " 
 
 95 
 
 THE PLEDGE. 
 
 [Whether the following is a real or a supposed case we know 
 that in this fallen world of ours there have been many sadder 
 scenes than the one depicted; for "who hath woe ? who hath 
 sorrow ? who hatli contentions ? who hath babbling ? who 
 hath wounds without cause ? who hath redness of eyes ? 
 They that tarry long at the wine ; they that go to seek mixed 
 wine. ... At the last it biteth like a serpent, and sting- 
 eth like an adder."— Prov. 23 ; 29-35.] 
 
 Part I. 
 
 All day the snow came silently to earth, 
 Until the branches of the apple trees 
 Bent lower than in autumn 'neath their weight 
 Of glossy fruit : the youthful pines that stood, 
 With leafless beech and maple interspersed. 
 
96 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 To speak of summer when all else that laughed 
 
 In balmy air with summer should depart, 
 
 Were robed in white, save where some little twig 
 
 Of deepest verdure timidly looked forth. 
 
 Like gentle Spring reclining in the arms 
 
 Of stern old Winter. Silence reigned abroad ; 
 
 1'here was no sun, no sky, but over all 
 
 A dense dark mist which hid the blue beyond. 
 
 The cottager had tarried long that day 
 
 Within the village inn, and night drew near 
 
 And found him at his glass ; then rose the wind 
 
 And hurled the snow against the window pane. 
 
 " Come, father, come " ; a little hand was laid 
 
 Upon the father's arm, and into his 
 
 A pair of pleading eyes looked gently up. 
 
 " Gome, father, come ; the wind begins to blow, 
 
 And mother waits and watches all alone." 
 
 He heeded not the warning ; to the bar 
 
 He gaily turned, and cried, " Another glass I " 
 
 The glass was drained, and yet another filled, — 
 
 And still the pleader cried, " Come, father, come." 
 
 " The night is cold," one thoughtless comrade said 
 " And you have far to walk ; here, drink, my boy. 
 The child pushed back the tempter's hand, a glow 
 Of indignation mantling cheek and brow, — 
 '* My mother says there's poison in the cup, 
 And I will never drink," he firmly said. 
 The father gave him an approving smile. 
 Patted his rounded cheek, and stroked his curls. 
 Then heaved a sigh^ — ^while o'er his manly face, 
 Which had been handsome ere the fatal wine 
 Disfigured it, a mournful shadow crept 
 And darkened all his soul. " Come, father, come : " 
 
TEMPER AN (JK. 
 
 97 
 
 III 
 
 This time lie listened, clasped the little hand, 
 And they went forth together in the storm. 
 
 The wind blew fiercely from the north and east, 
 And called its forces from the neighboring hills ; 
 They heard the summons, eager to obey, 
 And swept along in one continuous roar. 
 They caught tlie snow new-fallen from the earth 
 And wove a sheet with which to blind the eyes 
 Of those two wanderers on the frozen waste. 
 Then night came on ; dark night came suddenly, 
 And hid within its bosom bush and tree. 
 And all that stood as waymarks to their home. 
 The little winding path they trod that morn 
 Was now a path no more ; yet had his brain 
 Been clear as on the morn, his step as firm, 
 The father might have found his homeward way. 
 But oft the earth seemed reeling 'neath his feet. 
 And once he fell, then nerved himself anew 
 To struggle with the storm. 
 
 " How long the way ! 
 Dear father, are we almost home at last ? " 
 Through teeth that chattered came the words half- 
 formed, 
 And drops of dew stole from his anxious eyes 
 And turned to pearly ice-drops where they fell. 
 And then the father took the patient boy 
 Within his arms ; he hugged him to his breast 
 And tried with steady gaze to pierce the gloom 
 If he might catch a glimpse of friendly lights. 
 Or haply of the lamp that burned for him 
 In his own cottage, fed by one who watched, 
 And wept, and prayed, and turned the cottage door 
 Upon its frosty hinges, till her fair cheek 
 Grew purple with the cold j he thought of this. 
 
 ,| 
 
98 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEKS. 
 
 !i 
 
 B ! 
 
 
 And anguish and remorse smote heavily. 
 
 But deeper grew the night ; and hours tliat seemed 
 
 Like years to that distracted father passed. 
 
 Nearer and nearer to his aching breast 
 
 Ho lield the chikl — for hope grew faint within j 
 
 Yet with that precious burden at his lieart 
 
 Ho could not quite despair. " If I have sinned, 
 
 If I am seen in Heaven's all-searching light 
 
 Black and polluted, yet my child is pure, 
 
 And for the father's sin he should not die. 
 
 Guard him, ye angels I Save him, O my God I " 
 
 Thus in the depths of his own soul he prayed. 
 
 And chafed again the little trembling hands. 
 
 And kissed the cheek so cold it spoke of death. 
 
 " Let me kneel down, dear father ; let me pray. 
 
 For I am' weary — I will sleep awhile ; 
 
 But ere I sleep, dear father, let me pray." 
 
 And round his father's neck he twined his arms, 
 
 And faintly whispered half his evening prayer. 
 
 wretched father ! jDolluted man ! 
 
 Is it the wind that makes thee shiver thus ? 
 
 Part II. 
 
 All day the snow came silently to earth. 
 
 Until the path before the cottage door 
 
 Was even with the drift on either side. 
 
 No foot disturbed the mass of crystals white. 
 
 But when the wind began to roar and shriek, 
 
 And Night descended, with her sable wing 
 
 Barkening the scene around, a pallid face 
 
 Which had been pressed against the window pane 
 
 For half an hour, came forth into the gloom. 
 
 As looks the moon upon some stormy night 
 
 When every star is quenched, and she alone 
 
 Through rifted clouds peers forth and keeps her watch : 
 
TEMPERANCE. 
 
 99 
 
 So looked that wife and mother as she stood 
 
 Upon the threshold gazing down the road 
 
 With chattering teeth, and limbs that quaked with 
 
 cold, 
 Imagining she heard in eyery gust 
 The voice and footfall of the man she loved. 
 
 The hearth was piled with blazing logs that shed 
 
 A cheerful glow upon the cottn\,L! walls ; 
 
 The table spread for three before it stood. 
 
 And yet the bread was all unbroken there, — 
 
 And from the cottage to the garden gate 
 
 A shivering form went flitting to and fro. 
 
 Despair was on her cheek — and in her eye 
 
 A mother's anguish : " But they might liave seen 
 
 How fierce a storm was gathering — might have stayed." 
 
 And while the hope was fresh within her heart 
 
 She hurried in, but only to return 
 
 And take her station at the door again. 
 
 The moments slowly lengthened into hours, 
 The air grew chilly — for upon the hearth 
 A few decaying embers smoked alone ; 
 And pale with midnight vigils and with grief 
 The watcher knelt to find relief in prayer. 
 Then hark ! a sound — a footstep — and she starts I 
 Her heart leaps to her throat, and with a bound 
 She gains the cottage door — it opens wide. 
 
 A cry of joy is trembling on her lips, 
 For there the husband and the father stood. 
 She stretched her eager arms to take the boy, 
 But in the movement caught the father's eye 
 Where horror sat, and told the dreadful tale 
 He dared not trust his quivering lips to speak. 
 " My hoy is dead" she cried ; " my boy, my boy I " 
 
 ir: 
 
 i' 
 
 « I' 
 
 si^-im 
 
I 
 
 100 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 And caught him wiklly to her burstiiii:? heart. 
 
 Cold on her bosom fell the litth^ liead 
 
 Which had been pillowed there so oft in sleep,— 
 
 And as she raised the frosty lid which veiled 
 
 The violet eye beneath that lately laughed, 
 
 So deep a groan escaped her pallid lips 
 
 The guilty husband shuddered as lie heard. 
 
 " Too late," lie muttered in a husky tone, 
 
 And like an image of despair he stood, 
 
 Until she called him weeping to her side, 
 
 And murmured in a voice half choked witli sobs : 
 
 *^ l!f ay, not too late, my husband, not too late : 
 
 God takes the child in mercy and in love, 
 
 To save the father. Shall it not be so ? 
 
 Say by the love we bore this precious child, 
 
 Our own no longer — shall it not be so ? " 
 
 The answer came, so low she scarcely heard, 
 
 But 'twas enough, and she looked up and smiled I 
 
 MH.ffl 
 
■IP" 
 
 ^Ijlt^ 0tt portalltu. 
 
 WHAT IS YOUR LIFE ? 
 
 "Why do we mourn ? why do we sigh ? 
 
 "We who may to-morrow lie 
 
 With folded hands and death-sealed eye ? 
 
 A brave and gallant heart I knew : 
 Like some young sturdy oak he grew 
 !Nursed by the sun, refreshed by dew. 
 
 His hopes were bright and high their aim : 
 Above reproach or fear of shame 
 None ever lightly spoke his name. 
 
 He left our cottage blithe and gay, 
 And as he left we heard him say, 
 " I will return at close of day." 
 
 We watched him as he. passed along, 
 He was so manly, braT& and strong, 
 Oh, was the pride vte cherished wrong ? 
 
 We thought of him as one designed 
 To bless and elevate mankind, — 
 And it was well that we were blind ! 
 
 We did not see the gathering frown, — 
 But long before the sun went down, 
 A dreadful rumor filled the town. 
 
 They told us gently he was dead, — ' 
 I would not credit what they said : 
 But when I knew it reason fled. 
 
^mmm 
 
 102 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I woke to real life once more ; 
 My dream of happiness was o'er — 
 ^I stood upon a desert shore. 
 
 All day I heard the billows moan, 
 All night I answered groan with groan, 
 For I was desolate and lone. 
 
 Tliere came no message o'er the sea, 
 , No message from the lost to me. 
 And I repined at God's decree. 
 
 The bolt was spared — ^and. o'er my head 
 The bow of mercy shone instead. 
 And I at last was comforted. 
 
 Now when the billows rage and roar, 
 I think it shortly will be o'er, — 
 'Tis calm upon the other shore. 
 
 I look at Time as one who sees 
 A pale leaf floating on the breeze 
 Amid a grove of noble trees. 
 
 It fills awhile a little nook ; 
 
 To-day it is — to-morrow, loolc ! 
 
 The great white Throne ! the open Book I 
 
 We stand upon a narrow space, 
 
 Eternity rolls on apace — 
 
 Where next shall be our resting-place ? 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 As when the graceful bark, with spreading sails, 
 
 Glides from the port into the open sea. 
 Wafted along by soft and prosperous gales, 
 
SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 103 
 
 Just as the rising sun bids darkness flee ; 
 So, like that bark, in early youth are we, 
 
 When first we launch upon the sea of life — 
 Our hopes as bright, our youthful souls as free, 
 
 The scene around with love and beauty rife. 
 And all unknown to us its griefs, its cares and strife. 
 
 The bark glides on ; but, see, the azure sky 
 
 With dark and angry clouds is soon o'ercast ; 
 The thunders roar, the fork6d lightnings fly. 
 
 The billows beat, and howls the midnight blast ! 
 The trembling vessel, with dismantled mast. 
 
 The maddened waves have in their fury tossed, 
 Until she lies a helpless wreck at last. 
 
 Her plans all thwarted, and her hopes all crossed, 
 Her guiding star obscured, and her direction lost. 
 
 *Tis thus with life ; at times deemed most secure. 
 
 When all seems calm, and beautiful, and fair, 
 Dark rocks concealed, the easier to allure. 
 
 The fragile bark in youth's bright morn ensnare ; 
 And storms arise, and fierce the lightnings glare. 
 
 And wild and high the raging billows roll. 
 While sinks the heart a wreck in deep despair, 
 
 Till, brightly o'er the dark and dreary pole, 
 The Morning Star appears to the benighted soul ! 
 
 It guides the bark across life's troubled sea, — 
 
 It points the way unto the destined shore. 
 Till, anchored in a blest eternity. 
 
 It buffets with the howling storm no more. 
 Be ours that star to guide us safely o'er ! 
 
 To us, oh, may may its precious light be given ! 
 And though the tempests beat and billows roar, 
 
 And though we now by adverse winds are driven. 
 We'll safely anchor soon in the blest port of Heaven I 
 
104 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 THE SILENT ARMY. ' 
 
 Life is the road to death. No one can lose the way 
 — 'tis sure and plain, Whatever paths we take all 
 end the same. Some walk in sunshine, and some be- 
 neath a cloud; some gather flo^vers and some the 
 thorn ; but at the gate all stand alike : nor poverty, 
 nor wealth can enter there. 
 
 To tliose who smile, and those who weep, 
 To those who sing, and those who sigh, 
 
 There comes the same long final sleep, — 
 There comes the time when each must die. 
 
 We watch the faces as they pass — 
 
 We say of some, " How very fair " : ' ' * 
 
 Nor think how soon the churchyard grass 
 Will thrive upon the beauty there. 
 
 The objects of our love we take 
 
 Close to our hearts and call them ours ! 
 
 They are the gods we ne'er forsake, 
 
 But crown them every morn with flowers. 
 
 We dip them o'er and o'er again 
 
 In love's immortal fount ; but when 
 We find that all has been in vain, 
 ■" God shield us in our anguish then. 
 
 The Death-drum beats, the roll is called, 
 New names are on the list to-day : 
 
 Some answer calm and unappalled 
 As if 'twere pleasure to obey. 
 
 For life to them was full of pain, 
 Death opened wide the only door^ 
 
SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 105 
 
 While others, weep and plead in vain 
 For just one little moment more. 
 
 Through all the springs that come and go, 
 
 At noon, at night, at early dawn, 
 Through summer's heat and winter's snow, 
 
 That silent army marches on ! 
 
 On, on forever to the tomb ! 
 
 They pitch no tents along the way ; 
 On, on, it is the common doom. 
 
 There's no return and no delay. 
 
 They take no purse nor scrip with them 
 However rich they were before ; . v 
 
 The brow of beauty wears no gem, 
 
 And slaves are men — and kings no more. ' 
 
 From every land, and sea, and clime, 
 Through all the ages that are gone, 
 
 Through all the years of future time. 
 
 That host has marched — ^will still march oh. 
 
 And shall we of to-morrow boast ? 
 
 This very night may seal our doom •..:; ' ■ 
 And find us with that shadowy host. 
 
 Whose line of march is for the tomb ! 
 
 Death and the tomb ! our hearts rebel, 
 And wonder why such things should be ; 
 
 Great God, who doeth all things well. 
 We leave these mysteries with Thee ! 
 
 Thou knowest why, and we shall know 
 When raised in triumph from the grave, 
 
 Eedeemed from death, and sin, and woe. 
 Through Him who hath the power to save. 
 
 1 li 
 
 
 :5 
 
106 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWBHS. 
 
 THE DYING WARRIOR. 
 
 A warrior lay, with a heaving breast, 
 
 On the field of the dying and dead ; 
 His cheek was pale and his lips compressed. 
 And the fading light from the distaii wert 
 
 Shone o'er his gory bed. 
 
 The night came oo, and the moon arose 
 
 YHSh her soft and tremulous glow ; 
 She shed her light o'er friends and o'er foes, 
 All sleeping together in dull repose 
 
 On the battle-field below. 
 
 The warrior gazed with a moamfui sigh 
 
 On the blue and the star-spangled dome j 
 While tears shone bright in his sunken eye, 
 And vivid thoughts like the lightning fly • 
 
 To his childhood's distant home. 
 
 He thought of the mother who used to bend 
 O'er his couch, when in sorrow and pain — 
 
 Who to his complaints an ear would lend ; 
 
 But alas 1 he knew that that dearest friend 
 Would never bend o'er him again. 
 
 He thought of the scenes where once he strayed 
 
 With his brothers in days of yore ; 
 He thought of the stream, the peaceful glade. 
 The cot cage that stood in the dark green shade, 
 
 With the vines around the door. 
 
 He thought, with a pang of dark despair,. . - 
 'Twas the hour they all used to meet 
 
 With grateful heart for the evening prayer ; 
 
 He thought of the group that were gathered there ; 
 He thought — of a vacant seat. 
 
SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 107 
 
 He knew that a fervent prayer would rise 
 
 For the loved and the lons^-absent one ; 
 He knew that the tears would flow from their eyes, 
 And his father's voice would be choked with sighs, 
 
 As he prayed for his erring son. 
 
 •' * . ' • 
 He knew for him they would all implore 
 
 A renewed and a sanctified heart ; .^^ 
 
 That when the toils of this life were o'er 
 They all might embrace each other once more, 
 
 Never, no never to part ! .- - 
 
 One trembling hand to his brow he pressed, ; 
 
 And the tears of contrition he shed ; - 
 
 He implored for pardon, a home with the blest ; " 
 Then he wrapped his cloak round his gory breast, 
 
 And the warrior's spirit fled ! 
 
 I^^l 
 
 ON SEEING A SKULL. 
 
 This morning while examining a skull strange emo- 
 tions took possession of me — such as I never before 
 experienced. That senseless skull had once been the 
 seat of deer thought and powerful passions ; beaming 
 eyes once glistened brightly where now there was only 
 a hollow space ; that head was once proudly erected, 
 and the form that supported it once mingled in the 
 busy scenes of life. But now what a change I His 
 YBTj name is forgotten — himself but a handful of 
 dust. mortals I behold, and learn a lesson. His 
 body has long since mouldered away and mingled 
 with the parent earth, — this skull alone remains ; and 
 
108 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 yet the time will surely come, and cannot be far dis- 
 tant, when " the bones shall come together — ^bone to 
 his bone " ; when the sinews and the flesh shall come 
 upon them, the skin cover them, and the breatn enter- 
 ing the body the dead shall live 1 Will this skull 
 come forward at "the resurrection of the just," or 
 
 ? Oh, what an awful thought I My very 
 
 blood runs cold, and a shudder steals over me. O 
 thou great Mediator of mankind, intercede for me be- 
 fore thy Father's throne, that ere it is everlastingly 
 too late my unworthy name may be written in the 
 Lamb's book of life. (July 5, 1852.) 
 
 THOUGHTS ON DEATH. 
 
 A bride but yesterday — all hope and love, — 
 Flowers at her feet and cloudless skies above. 
 Bright buds of promise twining round her brow, 
 Approach — approach and gaze upon her now ! 
 Come not in festal robes as once ye came. 
 The bride is here but she is not the same 
 As when ye saw her to the altar led, 
 And called down blessings on her fair young head. 
 The cheek is pale that with the rose could vie. 
 There is no lustre in that rayless eye. 
 Upon those pallid lips there is no breath. 
 And i^he alas is now the bride of Death ! 
 Henceforth what soul will ever dare to trust 
 In things that crumble at a breath to dust ? 
 And who would dream of earthly joy and bliss 
 Taught by a lesson terrible as this ? 
 
SIGHS OX MORTALITY. 
 
 109 
 
 Short-sighted mortal hastening to the tomb, 
 
 Gaze on the scene, and realize thy doom I 
 
 All tongues and nations mingle with the clay ; 
 
 Art thou less subject unto death than they ? 
 
 The conquerors of the world have left their thione 
 
 Before a mandate mightier than their own, — 
 
 Rank, pride and power have sunk into the grave. 
 
 And Caesar moulders with the meanest slave. 
 
 Canst thou escape his all-destroying breath 
 
 And bid defiance to the victor Death ? 
 
 What strange enchantment has allured thine eyes ? 
 
 Shake off the spell ! immortal soul, arise ! 
 
 Oh, burst thy fetters ere it be too late. 
 
 Regain thy freedom and thy lost estate, — 
 
 A thousand angels hover round thy track. 
 
 They plead with thee, they long to lead thee back. 
 
 The sacrifice too great ? bethink thee, soul ! 
 A few more suns above thy head may roll, 
 A few at most and thou wilt trembling stand 
 Just on the borders of the spirit land. 
 Who ever stood there calm and undismayed. 
 And smiled to see all earthly prospects fade ? 
 Not he who lived for things of time alone, 
 AVho won a name, a fortune or a throne ; 
 Who added field to field, and store to store. 
 And cried at last, " Oh, for one moment more ! " 
 But he whose eye could pierce the dreary tomb. 
 He who could say amid the gathering gloom, — 
 " There is my home and there my Saviour stands 
 With smiling brow and with extended hands ! " ^ 
 Would'st thou depart with that exulting cry, 
 In glorious hope of immortality ? 
 Thy heart all joy, and praise thy latest breath ? 
 The holy life insures the happy death ! 
 Oh, thou wilt wonder in that trying hour 
 
 % 
 
•I; - 
 
 I'l''-'' 
 
 110 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 When home, and love, and friendship lose their power 
 To cheer and comfort, thou could'st ever prize 
 "What then will sink to nothing in thine eyes — 
 Time for repentance then ? beware ! beware ! 
 How many souls are yearly shipwrecked there ! 
 Like him of old they cry — " Go now thy way " — 
 And keep repentance for their dying day ; 
 But God is jealous of his honor still, 
 He asks a ready mind, a hearty will. 
 And those who through a life-time break his laws, 
 Despite his mercy and his glorious cause. 
 Who seek their own enjoyment and their ease, 
 And only yield when death demandeth these, — • 
 May find too late they were deceived at last. 
 And mourn the summer and the harvest past ! 
 
 There's not in heaven itself a lovelier sight. 
 Nor one which angels view with more delight. 
 Than youthful soldiers of Immanuel's cross. 
 In life's glad morning counting all as loss. 
 Since they have proved a dying Saviour's love. 
 And placed their treasures and their hearts above. 
 Let pleasure woo them with her syren voice, 
 They heed her not — ^they've made a nobler choice ; 
 Let others walk the shining path of fame. 
 They dare to suffer poverty and shame. 
 And turning from the world's enchanted bowers, 
 To consecrate their youth and all their powers 
 To Him they serve, and even here they find 
 More real pleasure than they e'er resigned. 
 
 The best they have in early life they bring 
 A free-will offering to their God and King ; 
 And in that hour when heart and flesh shall fail, 
 Their song of triumph ringing through the vale, 
 Will mingle with the anthems of the blest, 
 
?' 
 
 SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Who wait to hail them to their heavenly rest. 
 Would'st thou depart with that exulting cry 
 In glorious hope of immortality ? 
 E read an answer in that beaming face, 
 Behold thy Saviour — -fy to his embrace ! 
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 Strewn on the battle-plain, 
 After the fight was done, 
 And the bloody victory won, 
 
 Were a thousand heaps of slain. 
 
 Rider and horse there lay, 
 But the war-steed neighed no more, 
 And the gallant form he bore 
 
 Upon that eventful day, 
 Shattered, and marred, and ghastly pale, 
 Had fallen beneath the deadly hail. 
 
 Prince and peasant were there ! 
 Rich and poor, master and slave, 
 Wise and simple, timid and brave ; 
 Old men with snow-white hair. 
 Young men of noble birth, 
 Boys just from their native shore, 
 And the homes they shall see no more. 
 Stretched on the cold, damp earth ; 
 And mother and sister may watch in vain. 
 They never shall press those lips again. 
 
 Clasped in a fond embrace 
 Was a young and gentle pair, 
 And the love that was pictured there 
 
 Made holy that dreadful place. 
 
 Near by a chieftain bled, 
 
 mm 
 
 ■J i 1 
 
 iiil" 
 
 
 
 
 
 ||l^; 
 
 M 1 i ^ ' 'fl! 
 
 
 l\ 
 
 
 
 Ih 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 
 
 !:! 
 
 M 
 
 
112 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 
 While his faithful dog still kept 
 
 A mournful watch where he slept, 
 And mourned above the dead, 
 Then gazed on the pallid lips and brow : 
 It is death — does he comprehend it now ? 
 
 Just as they fell they lay — 
 Struck down in the dreadful strife ; 
 And the latest look they wore in life 
 Death had not taken away : 
 Some with a pleasant smile, 
 Foeman with foemjn at peace, 
 Croat, and Frank, and Tyrolese, 
 All in one ghastly pile, — 
 From the Seine, the Po, and the Land of Song, 
 Oh, where were the souls of that countless throng ? 
 
 Gone to the bar of God ! . ; 
 
 Gone from the battle's din. 
 Gone with their weight of sin, 
 
 To the solemn bar of God ! . 
 
 Woe to ambition and pride ! 
 Woe to the tyrant king 
 Who dares from his subjects wring 
 
 What God has never denied ! 
 Aye, woe to him, for the record stands, 
 Aiid the blood of the slain is on his hands. 
 
 DEAD AND FORGOT. 
 
 Dead and '' )rgot ! 
 How sad the lot 
 When wintry tempests blow 
 To lie all cold 
 'Neath the churchyard mould, 
 
 >. . 
 
SIGHS ON MOliTALlTY. 
 
 113 
 
 And in a year or so 
 To have onr very name unsaid, 
 
 Unless it eliancc to fall 
 From careless lips that say, " She's dead," — 
 
 She's dead, and that is all ! 
 
 But sadder still 
 
 That one should fill 
 The place we thought our own : 
 
 That a form more light, 
 
 And an eye more bright 
 Should guard our dear hearth-stone ; 
 That where we strayed another's feet 
 
 At morn and eve should roam. 
 And another's voice — ^perchance more sweet- 
 Make music in our home I 
 
 
 il 
 
 il 
 
 That where we locked 
 
 Our hands and talked 
 Amid our chosen flowers. 
 
 The lips we pressed 
 
 Should be caressed 
 By other lips than ours, — 
 That other eyes should watch for him, 
 
 And other arms embrace. 
 Until our image growing dim 
 Yield to another's face. 
 
 And this is love ! 
 
 injured Dove ! 
 Thy wings have many a stain : 
 
 But pure and white 
 
 In the Land of Light 
 They shall be spread again ; 
 The deep, true love our spirits crave 
 Earth never has supplied j 
 
 i!ii)i 
 
 
 mi 
 
 ml 
 
 m ill 
 
114 CANADIAN \7ILD FLOWEUS. 
 
 Nor till wo leave the dreary grave 
 Shall wo bo satisfied. 
 
 DEAR EMILY. 
 
 Dear Emily, swoet Emily ! 
 
 So early gone to rest, 
 I love to think of thee as one 
 
 Among the good and blest, — 
 Ko shadow on thy radiant eye. 
 
 No sorrow in thy breast. 
 
 Dear Emily, sweet Emily I 
 
 I cannot call thee dead : 
 'Tis true I do not see thy face 
 
 Nor hear thy gentle tread ; 
 Yet in my heart of hearts, sweet friend. 
 
 Thou never canst be dead. 
 
 When by the solemn stream of death 
 
 We parted long ago, 
 How little of the world we knew I 
 
 l>ut I have lived to know 
 How friendship fades, how love decays, 
 • How all things change below. 
 
 Time changes some, and absence some, 
 
 And envy — oh, the shame ! 
 Of those who played together once 
 
 Some rise to wealth and fame. 
 While in the vale of poverty 
 
 The rest remain the same. 
 
 But nothing now can come between 
 Thy heart and mine, sweet friend ! 
 
 ■iM'fc.. ;a. u 
 
SIGHS OX MOUTALITY. 
 
 With every image of the past 
 
 Thy memory will blend, 
 And what thou wast in early life 
 
 Thou wilt be to the end. 
 
 I love to think — oh, call it not 
 
 A fancy wild and vain — 
 That thou hast seen and pitied me 
 
 Through all these years of pain ; 
 But I shall know how that has been 
 
 When we two meet again. 
 
 My bleeding feet have left their mark 
 Wherever tliey have passed ; 
 
 But now the sun is getting low, 
 The shadows lengthen fast, 
 
 And Emily, dear Emily, 
 All will be well at last ! 
 
 116 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 
 
 She sleeps the quiet sleep of death and I survive. 
 But for what purpose ? why was not I called first to 
 explore the untried regions of eternity ? 'Tis known 
 only to Him whose mighty arm often spares the hum- 
 ble flower while the waving trees that stand around 
 it are torn from their roots by the roaring tempest. 
 She has gone before me, and yet how long may it be 
 ere I shall follow her ? solemn thought ! — well 
 might it sink deeply into my heart, and taking root 
 there spring forth yielding fruits of repentance. Soon 
 may Death, the great enemy of mankind, add one 
 more ghastly victim to the lifeless piles that lie 
 
116 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 heaped together in every clime and on every shore ; 
 and when my death-knell shall sound will it be the 
 signal of a spirit wailing in the regions of the lost, or 
 rejoicing in the bright realms of everlasting bliss ? 
 It is for me, and me alone to decide. Perhaps it is 
 for this that my life has been spared — that I might 
 make a firm and decided choice; and shall I still 
 draw back ? shall I still hesitate and remain inactive ? 
 Ko, no ; for " now is the accepted time, and now is 
 the day of salvation." 
 
 THE HEAVENLY HELPER. 
 
 What strange lessons I am every day learning t 
 Thank God for them. They are very unpleasant to 
 human nature, but they are leading me to place less 
 confidence in earthly love and more in heavenly. I 
 have leaned too much upon an arm of flesh, and it is 
 right I should suffer for it. Sweet Saviour, fold me 
 in thine arms ; comfort me with thy love ; and as 
 soon as thou seest best let me go and live with thee 
 forever. 
 
 All earthly hopes have passed away, 
 Stay with me, my Saviour, stay : 
 Thy blessed smile is all the light 
 That breaks upon my dismal niglit. 
 
 I cling to thee — thou must not go ; 
 Oh, let me tell thee every woe 
 
 I > 
 
SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 117 
 
 And whisper in thy ready ear 
 
 What other friends would frown to hear. 
 
 Distressed in body and in mind, 
 Diseased and wretched, poor and blind, 
 I only care to see thy face, — 
 I only sigh for thy embrace. 
 
 I droop, I faint beneath the rod. 
 It is so heavy, O my God ! 
 Spare mo, I cry, in mercy spare, — 
 But thou refusest still the prayer I 
 
 Sometimes I murmur and repine. 
 Prefer my stubborn will to thine. 
 And doubt if love or anger deal 
 The dreadful anguish that I feel. 
 
 rv 
 
 Then suddenly before me stands, — 
 With bleeding side, and feet, and hands, — 
 The Lamb that groaned and died for me. 
 That I might live eternally. 
 
 Such love o'erwhelms me, and with shame 
 I call upon thy holy name ; 
 Forgive mo, thou blessed One, 
 And let thy will, not mine, be done. 
 
 O my Kedeemer, Friend and Guide, 
 Take health, take what thou wilt beside, 
 But let me see the lovely face 
 That makes a heaven of every place. 
 
 Nay, turn not from my earnest prayer ! 
 Thy smile can save me from despair ; 
 The shadows deepen round my way, 
 Stay with me, my Saviour, stay. 
 
118 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Who save thee, God, knoweth the human heart ? 
 Pity me, for thy rod is heavy. My earthly hopes are 
 all torn and crushed,— oh, may they turn heaven-ward 
 and there find support and nourishment. This is 
 Father's discipline, shall I murmur ? Nay, but 
 rather rejoice that he does not leave me to myself 
 but deals with me as a child — chastening, rebuking, 
 scourging and refining: preparing me by all these 
 afflictions for the " rest that remaineth for the people 
 of God." And sweet the rest will be after such a 
 weary journey ! How I shall fold my hands upon the 
 bosom that shall never ag3,in be troubled, and say in 
 all sincerity : I thank thee, God, for the sweet that 
 was mingled in my earthly cup, but more do I thank 
 thee for the bitter. 
 
 THE PROMISE. 
 
 " In early life I'm called to part 
 With all I hold so dear ; 
 Strong tendrils bind my yearning heart, 
 But cannot keep me here. 
 
 "I ain resigned; yet tears will fall, 
 Sad thoughts steal over me ; 
 And dost thou know that with them all 
 Are mingling thoughts of thee ? 
 
 " We have been friends in hopes and fears 
 In joys and griefs the same — 
 Since first we learned in childhood's years 
 To lisp each other's name. 
 
SIGHS 02^^ MORTALITr. 
 
 119 
 
 " In quiet grove, in lonely dell, 
 In meadows green and fail. 
 Beside the stream we loved so well. 
 If one then both were there. 
 
 " Together we our plans have laid 
 With hopeful brow and heart, — 
 
 . When roving 'neath the summer shade, 
 But never thought to part. 
 
 " The spring will come, the trees will wave 
 As when we saw them last. 
 But thou wilt linger by my grave, 
 And muse upon the past. 
 
 " Beyond the portals of the tomb 
 I look with joyful eye : 
 A glorious light dispels the gloom, 
 'Tis not so hard to die. 
 
 " There is a home of rest divine — 
 A home prepared for me ; 
 But hours of darkness will be thine, • 
 For this I cling to thee. 
 
 " Hark ! 'tis the angel choirs above j 
 I've but one earthly care, — 
 Oh, promise me by all our love 
 That thou wilt meet me there." 
 
 That earnest look — I see it still. 
 
 That voice — I hear it yet ; 
 And death this aching heart shall chill 
 
 Before it can forget. 
 
 The flowers have faded one by one, 
 The summer birds are flown, 
 
 m 
 
120 
 
 CANADIAN WILD ILOV/EllS. 
 
 And 'iieath a cold autumnal sun 
 I wander forth alone. 
 
 The yellow leaves are falling fast 
 
 Along the river side, — 
 I watch them borne upon the blast, 
 
 And on the swelling tide. 
 
 I think how all things earthly fade, 
 Then wipe the tears that How, 
 
 As memory brings the promise made 
 So many years ago. 
 
 THE DEAD CHRIST. 
 
 The last expiring groan was hushed ; the beaming 
 eye was closed — it wept no longer over the sins of a 
 perverse race. Those gentle and lovely features were 
 robed with the pallid hue of death, and the heart that 
 melted at the sorrows of mankind beat no longer. 
 The grave, the cold grave, rejoicingly closed its 
 dreary portals upon his sacred form; and he, the 
 lowly and despised Nazarene, who found no resting- 
 place for his weary head, slept quietly in a borrowed 
 sepulchre. 
 
 THE COMPLAINT. 
 
 Ah ! many springs have come and gone, 
 And called me forth in vain ; 
 
 Now winter folds the winding-sheet 
 Round nature's breast again. 
 
SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 121 
 
 Young hands have gathered bright, wild flowers, 
 
 Young feet have trod the grass, 
 But I have watched in solitude 
 
 The mournful shadows pass. 
 
 Young hands have gathered brighter flowers 
 
 From wisdom's pleasant tree — 
 But darker still the shadows fall, 
 
 There are no flowers for me ! 
 
 No flowers ! where shadows deepest lie 
 
 Amid the wint'ry gloom, 
 Thank God, I see with kindling eye 
 
 The Eose of Sharon bloom ! 
 
 It is enough — my earthly hopes 
 
 Are fading one by one ; 
 My Goo and my Redeemer lives. 
 
 And may his will be done. 
 
 I know that in a better world 
 
 I shall look back and say 
 I never could have reached my home 
 
 By any other way. 
 
 And such a home ! no frightful dreams, 
 
 No wakings to despair — 
 No cries of — God remove the cup, 
 
 Or give me strength to bear ! 
 
 No pillows wet with burning tears, — 
 
 No longings wild and vain 
 To wander in the pleasant fields, 
 
 Or dear old woods again ! 
 
 ^. love and peace, and endless joy, 
 And rest to me how strange I 
 
 lililir 
 
122 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Lord give me patience to await 
 The happy, happy change I 
 
 THE MIXED CUP. 
 
 Joy and sorrow, are they not mingled in every cup ? 
 We call some happy, others unfortunate ; and so they 
 appear to us. But could we draw aside the curtain 
 that conceals the mysteries of the human heart what 
 problems would be solved, and how often we should 
 be lead to exclaim, " God dealeth justly : pain and 
 pleasure are more equally distributed than we imag- 
 ined " ! But this may not be. We judge according 
 to appearances, and this is one great source of mis- 
 ery ; for, in our grief, we imagine others are more 
 favored than we, and for the blessings we do enjoy we 
 are not thankful. Oh, the great mercy of God! 
 What a wonder it is that he does not smite us to the 
 earth when we dare murmur at his dealings I 
 
 I SHALL DEPART. 
 
 When the flowers of Summer die. 
 When the birds of Summer fly. 
 When the winds of Autumn sigh, 
 I shall depart. 
 
 When the mourning Earth receives 
 Last of all the faded leaves, — 
 When the wailing forest grieves, 
 I shall depart. 
 
Ill: 
 
 SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 When are garnered grain and fruit, 
 When all insect life is mute, 
 I shall drop my broken lute ; 
 I shall depart. 
 
 123 
 
 When the fields are brown and bare. 
 Nothing left that's good or fair. 
 And the hoar-frost gathers there, 
 I shall depart. 
 
 Not with you, songsters, no ! 
 To no Southern clime I go, — 
 By a way none living know 
 I shall depart. 
 
 Many aching hearts may yearn, 
 Many lamps till midnight burn. 
 But I never shall return. 
 When I depart. 
 
 Trembling, fearing, sorely tried, 
 Waiting for the ebbing tide, 
 Who, oh ! who will bo my guide 
 When I depart ? . 
 
 Once the river cold and black 
 Rolled its waves affrighted back, — 
 I shall see a shining track 
 When I depart. 
 
 There my God and Saviour passed, 
 He will be my guide at last, — 
 Clinging to his merits fast, 
 I shall depart. 
 
 — Written in 185S. 
 
 1; 
 
 !!!• 
 
124 
 
 CANADIAN AVILD FLOWKUS. 
 
 TIME FLIES. 
 
 Years are coming, years are going, 
 Be they fraught with joy or pain, — 
 
 Like a river they arc flowing 
 To the everlasting main I 
 
 On the banks are thorns and roses, 
 And wc take of both a sliare 
 
 Till the ocean round us closes. 
 And wo drop our anchor — where ? 
 
 If the future were uncertain. 
 
 If across the mighty deep, 
 Brushing back the misty curtain 
 
 Angel pinions did not sweep, — 
 
 If there were no bright to-morrow 
 For our day of toil and strife, 
 
 Burdened with its weight of sorrow. 
 What a curse were human life I 
 
 Locks are whitening, cheeks are paling, 
 With each month and year that flies ; 
 
 Youth and vigor both are failing, 
 But the spirit never dies ! 
 
 Short indeed is our probation, 
 Dark and certain is the tomb,— 
 
 But the Lamp of revelation 
 Dissipates the fearful gloom. 
 
 Oh, we take our life too sadly, 
 Ever grieve and mourn too much. 
 
 Turn to ashes what would gladly 
 Turn to gold beneath our touch. 
 
mmm^^, 
 
 SIGHS ON MORTALITY. 
 
 'Tis because that in our blindness 
 Wo imagine God is blind, — 
 
 'Tis because we doubt his kindness, 
 That we cannot be resigned. 
 
 Nature cries amid the trials 
 That beset our thorny path : 
 
 " God outpoureth all the vials 
 Of his anger and his wrath ! " 
 
 Such complaints are more surprising 
 Since the declaration runs : 
 
 "If ye be without chastising, 
 Then indeed ye are not sons." 
 
 All our future course He seeth 
 Better than we see our past, 
 
 And whatever he decreeth 
 We shall understand at last. 
 
 Let us then in our affliction 
 Meekly trust our gracious Lord, — 
 
 Well assured his benediction 
 Will ere long be oui* reward. 
 
 Let us beautify the present, — 
 There is much we all can do 
 
 That will make the year more pleasant, 
 For ourselves and others too. 
 
 125 
 
 mm 
 
 w m 
 
 A VOICE FROM A SICK-ROOM. 
 
 [At one time Miss Johnson seems to have entertained the 
 idea of writing for publication a series of articles entitled 
 "Voices from a Siclc-room." Wlietlier she ever wrote more 
 than one or not I cannot say. The following is the only one 
 
 
 ;" il 
 
126 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEKS. 
 
 we can find among her manuscripts, and it is so thrillingly In- 
 teresting as to malve us wish for more. It is dated Sept. 5, 
 1859.] 
 
 Draw the curtains — shut out the light of heaven ; 
 the inner world is so full of darkness that the sun- 
 shine of the outer world becomes painful by contrast. 
 Hush, little birdl don^t sing to-day. There — all is 
 dark and still. Now, wretched heart, exult in thy 
 wretchedness ; draw the dark, heavy curtains of de- 
 spair around thee; shut out the light of hope and 
 love; hush the voice of praise and thanksgiving. 
 Think of all thou hast suffered ; think of thy present 
 misery ; crowd the future with black-robed phantoms ; 
 people every nook and corner with horrible faces, and 
 over all let the thunder crash and bellow, and the 
 winds moan and shriek, as they moan and shriek only 
 when the great are dying. 
 
 Ah, what sad havoc do sickness and pain make of 
 the poor body ; but sadder still when they trample on 
 the bright inhabitant within, and make it a slave to 
 tremble at their bidding ! " Bring chains — ^bring 
 chains," cries the fell destroyer ; and ere she has time 
 to rally her forces around her, or even think of resist- 
 ance, the poor Soul has become a helpless captive, 
 and Disease wears a smile of triumph upon her ghastly 
 cheek, and again lifts up her voice to shout " victory." 
 And a complete victory it is: Self-(;ontrol, Pride, 
 Ambition — all are humbled; Hope is shrouded in 
 sackcloth, and if she ever speaks it is only to whis- 
 per: "There is one secret passage by which thou 
 
8I0US OX MORTALITY. 
 
 127 
 
 I 
 
 uiayest yet escape, but it winds through the kingdom 
 of Death and the Grave." Eeason herself grows 
 pale and trembles, lest she lose her throne ; for the 
 thousands of obedient servants, which have never be- 
 fore disputed her authority, are all up in arms against 
 her. Every nerve begins to quiver and vibrate ; the 
 whole body is in commotion; and no wonder the 
 trembling Soul sits down amid the ruins of her for- 
 mer self and makes the whole place doleful with her 
 cries and lamentations. 
 
 Don't chide her: she is no criminal waiting the 
 demands of justice, but a prisoner of war, and there- 
 fore should be dealt kindly with. Don't gaze at her 
 through her prison bars, as though fac were a wild 
 beast caged, or some curious object kept only for a 
 show ; but go to her enveloped in the mantle of love, 
 upon your lips the honey-dew of human kindness, and 
 in your heart the melting tenderness of Christian affec- 
 tion. Don't tell her she is escaping many trials and 
 temptations to which she would be exposed if she 
 came in contact with the busy world around liev. Go 
 to the imprisoned eagle, and, as he looks up longingly 
 into the deep blue sky and beats his v/ings in agony, 
 comfort him with the assurance that his wants are 
 provided for, and he himself safe from the arts of the 
 fowler 1 Aye, tell this to the f vee-born eagle, but dis- 
 gust not the ever-yearning, restless Soul with such 
 mockeries. She may listen, but she laughs you to 
 scorn in secret and prays Heaven to be delivered from 
 such comforters. She knows her struggles and temp- 
 
 ilk 
 
128 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEIIS. 
 
 tations are inward ; and alio knows too, for that very 
 reason, t]iey are more terrible. There greater battles 
 liavo been fonght than the blood-dyed fields of Europe 
 ever witnessed. Magentas and Solferinas fatten with 
 the blood of heroes, but she carries on a never ending 
 warfaio '' with i)rincipalities and powers " — the num- 
 berless host of hell — and legions of native passions. 
 
 Deal gently with her. Would you win her confi- 
 dence ? There is but one passage to her affections. 
 Speak that word — bolt and bar fly open : she takes 
 you by the hand and welcomes you to her most sacred 
 and secluded retreat. That word is sympathy: let 
 her feel it in your tender embrace, see it in the glance 
 of your eye, hear it in the modulation of your voice. 
 It is for this she yearns and sighs, and refuses to be 
 comforted where it is not. 
 
 Bring her flowers — sweet, beautiful flowers. They 
 are meet companions for her solitude. Gather blos- 
 soms from the whitening apple-bough, violets from 
 the meadow, dandelions from the wayside. She will 
 fold them more tenderly to her bosom than the rarest 
 plants, for their faces are old, familiar ones, and she 
 imagines they wear a look of pity. 
 
 But there are more precious things than human 
 sympathy ; there are sweeter flowers than violets or 
 roses. They bloom on the prayer-consecrated moun- 
 tains of Judea, amid the ancient olives of Gethsem- 
 ane, along the Dolorous Way trodden by the Man of 
 Sorrows, beneath the shadows of the Gross, and 
 aiound the borrowed Sepulchre. Oh, gather them 
 
 
Jl 
 
 810US ON MOltTALlTY. 
 
 US) 
 
 with no sparing liand : there are enougli for you and 
 her — enough lor every sorrowing heart in the uni- 
 verse. Take thom to the poor sufferer. Their fra- 
 grance will make the lonely (diamber like a garden of 
 spices; the tearful eyes will turn heavenward, and 
 the pale lips — tremulous with contrition will whisper, 
 " Father, forgive me, for I kmnv not what I did when 
 I murmured at thy dealings." Then a solemn hush 
 will follow — a holy twilight of the soul, — as if the 
 sorrows of earth were blending with the joys of heav- 
 en, the pains of mortality with the blessedness of the 
 angelic bards. Oh, these are the flowers for a sick- 
 room I How dreary and desolate does it seem with- 
 out them ! The strong and healthy may live on, care- 
 less and irreligious, but what would become of the 
 poor, grief-stricken, despairing Soul if she could not 
 repose quietly in the bosom her Beloved, and say with 
 child-like simplicity, morning and evening, " Our 
 Father who art in heaven / " • ' 
 
 11 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 n 
 
BE!. » 
 
 I I 
 
 ^0ttfll9i 0f gOp^^ 
 
 "HEGIVETH SONGS iN THE NIGHT." 
 
 Gloriously the sun sinks behind the western hills. 
 Half the sky seems on fire, and the other half 
 wreathed with light fantastic clouds. All nature is 
 beautiful — r'sm I be sad ? Nay ; away with sadness, 
 away with sorrow; 1 will forget everything — my 
 strangeness, my blasted hopes, and seek for happiness 
 where happiness only is to be found, in the sacred 
 Oracles of God. — Juli/ 14, 1852. 
 
 God sometimes speaks in earthquake and in storm, 
 But oftener in the " still small voice " of love : 
 He urges men as loving fathers plead. 
 God is our Father, yet we shun his face 
 And hide ourselves when at the cool of day 
 He walketh in the garden I 
 
 How sweet the thought that God, our heavenly 
 Father, is omniscient. Our griefs are not hidden 
 from him. He knows our hearts, and with all this 
 knowledge he is good — so tender, so pitiful ! Oh, to 
 love him as he deserves ! Oh, for a thousand tongues 
 to sing his praises ! Tell the sick, tell the sorrowing, 
 tell the broken-hearted of this God ; tell the wretched, 
 the guilty, the wayward prodigal of this gracious 
 Father. 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 THE LAST GOOD NIGHT. 
 
 131 
 
 > 
 
 [In the day of health and prosperity everybody feels like 
 singing, but *' in the night " of adversity grace must produce 
 the song of holy confidence and hope. Such a song is the fol- 
 lowing- which has probably been printed oftener than any 
 other of Miss Johnson's poems. It has appeared in several 
 papers; finds a place in Dewart's "Selections from Canadian 
 Poets"; was set to music by George F. Root, and appears in 
 his "School for the Cabinet Organ." With many it has 
 been a favorite.] 
 
 Mother, good night ! my work is done, — 
 I go to rest with the setting sun : 
 ' But not to wake with the morning light, 
 So, dearest mother, a long good night ! 
 
 Father, good night I the shadows glide 
 Silently down to the river's side, — 
 The river itself Avith stars is bright, 
 So, dearest lather, a long good night ! 
 
 Sisters, good night ! the roses close 
 Their dewy eyes for the night's repose — 
 And a strange, damp mist obscures my sight, 
 So, dearest sisters, a long good night ! 
 
 Brothers, good night ! the sunset flush 
 Has died away, and a midnight hush 
 Has settled o'er plain and mountain hight, 
 So, dearest brothers, a long good night ! 
 
 Good night ! good night I nay, do not weep : 
 I'm weary of earth, 1 long to sleep — 
 I shall wake again with the dawning light ; 
 Of eternal day — good night, good night I 
 
 1 
 
 <3l 
 
 I 
 
^m 
 
 ! 
 
 132 
 
 CAXADIAX WILD FL(5WERS. 
 
 RETROSPECTIVE AND PROSPECTIVE. 
 
 I remember the time when we went forth arm in 
 arm over the newly mown fields, scaring the grass- 
 hoppers from our pathway, with our baskets on our 
 arms, to gather the blueberries that hung in clusters 
 on their slender stalks. But thou art gone now to the 
 fairer fields of paradise, to pluck sweeter fruit than 
 ever ripened here. Thou art gone ! The blueberry 
 bushes have fallen long ago before the scythe ; the 
 field has changed its appearance j and as for me, the 
 breezes woo me forth in vain — I cannot go. Sickness 
 and sorrow have come between me and the love of 
 earth ; they have cast a dark shadow over what I once 
 thought fair. But as there can be no shadow without 
 a light beyond it I have caught bright glimpses of a 
 better home — a land of life and glory. 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 [We have no clue to the time when this was written. It is 
 imperfect: the second verse is not complete in the copy. But 
 is it not true to life so far as earthly hope is concerned ? Of 
 "the hope of the gospel" our songstress would speak differ- 
 ently.] 
 
 What a syren is Hope — what a charming deceiver I 
 She whispers so blandly you can but believe her ; 
 The garments of Truth and of Reason she stealeth 
 And every deformity thus she concealeth. 
 
 When down in the valley I'm talking with Sorrow 
 She comes with a song — all its burden to-morrow ; 
 She mocks my companion 
 
m 
 
 SOXGS OF HOPE. 
 
 133 
 
 Then she beckons me up to the top of a mountain ; 
 She brings me a draught from a clear, sparkling fount- 
 ain, 
 And talks of the beautiful prospect before us 
 Till ere I'm aware the dark night settles o'er us. 
 
 Sometimes in my anger I try to elude her ; 
 
 I call her a jade and an idle intruder; 
 
 But she kisses, caresses, and coaxes, and flatters 
 
 Till I build me a castle the next zephyr shatters. 
 
 When I firmly resolve I will listen no longer. 
 Than my will or my reason somehow she is stronger : 
 I chide her, deride her, despise her and doubt her. 
 And yet it is true I can't live without her ! 
 
 ■ EARTH NOT THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME. 
 
 Earth, with all thy grief and sorrow. 
 And thy changes of to-morrow ; 
 With thy woe and with thy parting. 
 With thy tears of anguish starting. 
 With thy countless heart-strings breaking, 
 With thy loved and lost forsaking. 
 With thy famished millions sighing. 
 With thy scenes of dead and dying. 
 With thy graveyards without number, 
 Where the old and youtliful slumber ; 
 Earth, oh, earth ! thus dark and dreary, 
 Cold, and sad, and worn, and weary. 
 Thou art not my home I 
 
 Earth, oh, earth ! with all thy slaughter 
 And thy streams of blood like water 
 O'er the field of battle gushing. 
 
 Hi 
 
 h 
 
 if* 
 
 ''5 
 
 m 
 
 •: ' i 
 
 •; m 
 
 :li-:4 
 
 •5' ■"■i 
 
 
 
134 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 
 Where the mighty armies rushing, 
 Keckless of all human feeling, 
 "With the war trump loudly pealing, 
 And the gallant banners flying, 
 Trample on the dead and dying ; 
 "Where the foe, the friend, the brother. 
 Bathed in blood sleep by each other ; 
 Earth, oh, earth ! thus dark and gory, 
 Blood and tears make up thy story, 
 Thou art not my home ! 
 
 Earth, with all thy scenes of anguish, 
 "Where the poor and starving languish, 
 To the proud oppressor bending. 
 And their cries for mercy blending; ' 
 
 "Where the slave with bosom swelling. 
 Which despair has made its dwelling. 
 And the scalding tear-drops falling — 
 Sight to human hearts appalling — 
 Strives, but strives in vain to sever 
 Fetters that must bind him ever ; 
 Earth, oh, earth ! with each possession 
 Sold to tyrants and oppression, 
 Thou art not my home ! 
 
 Earth, oh, earth ! thy brightest treasures, 
 Like thy hopes and like thy pleasures, 
 Wintry winds are daily blighting ; 
 Pain, and woe, and death uniting, 
 Youth and love and beauty crusliing. 
 And the sweetest voices hushing ; 
 Kich and poor, and old and blooming. 
 To one common mansion dooming ; 
 While the cries of every nation 
 Mingle with those of creation ; 
 Earth, oh, earth ! thus dark and dreary. 
 
'■I ;|l| 
 
 !^ 
 
 SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 135 
 
 Colcl, and sacl, and worn and weary, 
 Thou art not my home ! 
 
 Earth, oh, earth ! though dark and gory, 
 In thy pristine state of glory 
 Angels came upon thee gazing, 
 Songs of love and rapture raising ; 
 For thou then wast bright and beaming, 
 With the sunlight on thee streaming, 
 With thy crystal waters laving 
 Shores with fadeless forests waving ; 
 With thy plains and with thy mountains. 
 With thy ever-gusliing fountains ; 
 Earth, oh, earth ! once fair and holy, 
 Fallen, fallen, and so lowly ; 
 Thou art not my home I 
 
 Earth, oh, earth ! bowed down by sorrow. 
 Cheer thee, for there comes a morrow ; 
 Night and clouds, and gloom dispersing, 
 And thyself, earth, immersing 
 In a flood of light undying ; , 
 
 When the curse upon thee lying, 
 With its thousand woes attending, 
 Death, and pain, and bosoms rending. 
 Partings that the heart-strings sever. 
 Will be banished and forever, — 
 Earth, oh, earth ! renewed in glory. 
 Love and joy make up the story ; 
 Oh, be thou my home I 
 
 Earth, although thou seem'st forsaken, 
 Yet a note of praise awaken ; 
 For the angels, lowly bending 
 Round the throne of light unending, 
 Gaze upon thee, sad and groaning. 
 
136 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Listen to thy bitter moaning ; 
 Thou hast scenes to them amazing, 
 While on Calvary's mountain gazing ; 
 And they smile on every nation 
 Purchased with so great salvation, — 
 Earth, oh, earth, ! renewed in glory, 
 Angels shall rehearse thy story ; 
 Oh, be thou my home ! 
 
 Earth, the morn will soon break o'er thee. 
 And thy Saviour will restore thee ; 
 Far more bright and far more blooming, 
 And more glorious robes assuming 
 Than Avhen hrst, o'er Eden ringing, 
 Angel-voices were heard singing ; 
 For thy King himself descending, 
 Heaven and earth together blending, 
 With his saints a countless number, 
 Those who live and those who slumber, 
 Over thee will reign victorious, — ■ 
 Earth, oh, earth, thus bright and glorious, 
 Be thou then my home ! 
 
 "WE SORROW NOT AS OTHERS WITHOUT HOPE." 
 
 While looking over an old manuscript, written by 
 one who is long since passed from time into eternity, 
 I met with the following lines : " It is six years to-day 
 since my Elsa died, and five months since my Amanda 
 left me forever. They sleep in the grave, and there 
 they will remain through endless years.'' He then 
 went on, in strains mournful and tender, and with all 
 a father's sorrow deplored his loss. I could not won- 
 
 1 ill!' 
 
i 
 
 SONGS or HOPE. 
 
 137 
 
 fler that he wept the tears of anguish and despair if, 
 as he said, they are to remain in the dark tomb 
 through endless years. The glorious Resurrection 
 morning was unknown to him. Ho saw only the 
 tomh, and considered not that there is One who holds 
 the keys of the grave, and who will soon burst the 
 icy bars of death and bring forth the righteous to im- 
 mortality. Truh' tliat morning has charms for the 
 Christian. God grant that if I am called to slumber 
 for a while I may " have part in the first resurrec- 
 tion."— Jwwe 22, 1852. 
 
 
 THE MESSENGER BIRD. 
 
 Oil, fly away to the better land. 
 Thou bird of the snowy wing ! 
 
 Oil, fly away to the blood-washed band. 
 And hear the songs they sing I 
 
 But bear a message from us, dove, 
 To that bright and happy throng ; 
 
 For we have friends whom we dearly love, 
 Who swell the Conqueror's song. 
 
 Oh tell them our hearts are sad and lone. 
 Our homes not bright as of yore ; 
 
 For we miss the soft, the soothing tone 
 Of the friends we loved before. 
 
 Oh tell them we sigh for the better land, 
 For earth has grown sad and chill ; 
 
 And we long rejoicing with them to stand 
 On the heights of Zion's hill. 
 
1 : 
 
 ill 
 
 ^*: 
 
 3 ll'i 
 
 
 138 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Oh tell them we long to share their rest, 
 
 Afar from all e.'irthly strife ; 
 We long to lean on our Saviour's breast, 
 
 And roam by the tree of life. 
 
 Oh tell them our fondest hopes are there, 
 
 For our earthly hopes are o'er ; 
 And we sigh for the land all bright and fair — 
 
 We sigh for the deathless shore. 
 
 Then fly away to the better land. 
 
 Thou bird of the snowy wing ! 
 Oh fly away to the blood-washed band, 
 
 And hear the songs they sing. 
 
 And then return with the speed of love, 
 When the night grows dark and chill, 
 
 And tell us, oh, tell us, thou white-winged dove I 
 Do they love, do they love us still ? 
 
 We know there is One, in that blissful home. 
 Who loves and remembers us yet ; 
 
 Though weary and sorrowful now we roam, 
 We know that he will not forget. 
 
 We'll trust him then, the great and the strong ; 
 
 By his own almighty hand 
 He'll bring us soon with the blood-washed throng 
 
 To the bright, the better land. 
 
 5 y 
 
 ).''4t^. II 
 
 OUR SHIP IS HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 What though the angry waves are high. 
 And darkness reigns around ? 
 
 Let hope be bright in every eye. 
 Our ship is homeward bound ! 
 
SONGS OP HOPE. 
 
 139 
 
 What though nor moon nor stars appear 
 
 Amid the gloom profound, 
 Why should we yield a place to fear ? 
 
 Our ship is homeward bound I , 
 
 What though the lightnings glare above, 
 And deaf ning thunders roar, 
 
 When with the eye of faith and love 
 We view the distant shore ? 
 
 We know that friends are waiting there 
 
 We loved in life before ; 
 And angel forms all bright and fair 
 
 Line the eternal shore. 
 
 We've often longed with them to bow 
 
 At our Eedeemer's foet, — 
 He loved us first, we love Him now, 
 
 Then let the billows beat ! 
 
 And let them bear our hopes away. 
 Although they once were sweet. 
 
 We catch a glimpse of coming day — 
 Oh, let the billows beat ! 
 
 li 
 
 i; ■ Mil 
 
 The coward peers with trembling form 
 
 Into the gloom profound, 
 But we can smile to view the storm. 
 
 Our ship is homeward bound ! 
 
 I 4 
 
 And though for us on life's dark wave 
 
 No anchorage be found, — 
 Oh, let our hearts be true and brave, 
 
 Our ship is homeward bound I 
 
I III 
 
 ll!l'if:i 
 
 J i 
 
 If 
 
 "li 
 
 yr 
 
 140 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 MIDNIGHT. V '•' 
 
 Shades of night have gathered round, 
 Tis the hour of gloom profound ; 
 'Tis tlie hour when many sleep, 
 'Tis the hour when many weep, 
 Over pleasures buried deep. 
 
 Faces smiling through the day, 
 Lips that told a spirit gay, 
 Eyes that beamed as lulth delight. 
 Now concealed from human sight. 
 Put aside the mask to-night. 
 
 Tossing on the couch of pain, 
 Seeking rest but all in vain, 
 "With the dark and dreary tomb 
 Oft appearing through the gloom, 
 Weary sufferers wait their doom ! 
 
 Bright and golden dreams have some : 
 On their airy wings they come. 
 Giving fancy leave to soar 
 To the happy scenes of yore, — 
 Or to some untraveled shore. 
 
 By the hearth he holds so dear, 
 Softly ringing in his ear 
 Gentle voices, faces bright 
 Bursting on his gladdened sight,— 
 Sits the wanderer to-night. 
 
 Clasping hands in holy trust 
 Long since mouldered into dust, — 
 Gazing into death-sealed eyes. 
 With a look of sweet surprise, 
 Every tear the mourner dries. 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 141 
 
 From some rugged mountain high 
 Making journeys through the sky, 
 Or in amaranthine bowers 
 Talking with the birds and flowers, 
 Poets spend the midnight hours. 
 
 Phantoms that by day elude, 
 Flying ever when jDursued, — 
 Like the desert mirage bright, 
 Pilled with joy and with delight 
 Dreamers fondly clasp to-night. 
 
 Oh, that morning's early beam 
 Should dissolve the blissful dream ! 
 Oh, that love and hope should fly 
 Like the mist in yonder sky, 
 When the burning sun is high ! 
 
 There's a morning yet to break. 
 When the sleepers shall awake 
 Prom the couch and from the grave, 
 Prom the mountain and the cave. 
 Prom beneath the ocean wave. 
 
 Then the dream of life is o'er, 
 Then they wake to sleep no more 
 Then all earthly hopes shall fly 
 Like the mist in yonder sky, — 
 And that morning draweth nigh ! 
 
 1 • 
 
 , EASTER SUNDAY. 
 
 The old, the young, and the middle-aged all meet 
 to-day in the house of prayer. Prom a thousand 
 churches in our own and other lands the voice of 
 
wpfp 
 
 illf^ 
 
 li 
 
 \L[\\ 
 
 142 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEKS. 
 
 ii 
 
 
 I; <> ' 
 
 Mi' 
 
 Rlj' 
 
 
 II 
 
 praise and thanksgiving goes up to heaven — " The 
 Lord is risen ! " Oli glorious tidings ! " The Lord is 
 risen indeed," and hath appeared to Peter I aye, and 
 to Mary also, — the poor sinner whose touch would 
 have been profanation to the Pharisees of our own 
 times. And still more wonderful, He hath appeared 
 to Thomas — to Thomas the infidel, who laughed at 
 the story of the resurrection ! 
 
 THE RISEN REDEEMER. 
 
 Eejoice now, sorrowing bride, for he sleeps no 
 longer. Let thy glad songs of j^raise and adoration 
 reach the skies, for thy Lord is not among the dead — 
 he is risen. " Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion I 
 shout, daughter of Jerusalem ! '' for thy Saviour 
 has burst the iron bands of death and come forth a 
 mighty conqueror. For thy sins he laid himself dowi 
 in the icy tomb ; he rises again for thy justification. 
 Por thy iniquities he suffered, died and was buried : 
 he comes forth again that thou mayest be a sharer of 
 his glory. He has hallowed the dreary tomb by his 
 own dear presence, and now he has ascended to his 
 Pather and your Pather, to his God and your God. 
 He has taken his seat at the right hand of the Maj- 
 esty on high, and there, despairing soul, trembling 
 under the burden of sin, he pleads for thee (Heb. 7 : 
 25). He points to the cross on Calvary, dripping 
 with his own precious blood, and in a voice of tender 
 compassion exclaims: "Pather, I died for that 
 

 SONGS OF IIOrE. 
 
 143 
 
 wretched sinner ; spare, oh spare Iiim for my sake ! " 
 Ho has entered into the lioly j)lace by his own blood, 
 having obtained eternal redemption for thee, daugh- 
 ter of Zion. • ' 
 
 DOST THOU REMEMBER ME? 
 
 Thou whose footsteps are unknown. 
 
 Whose path is on the sea, — 
 Whose footstool earth, and lieaveu whose throne, 
 
 Dost Thou remember me ? 
 
 Thou whom winds and waves obey, 
 
 At whose supreme command 
 The shining worlds pursue their way. 
 
 Or in their orbits stand, — 
 
 Thou at whose touch the hills disperse, 
 
 And burning mountains flee. 
 Thou Ruler of the Universe, 
 
 Dost Thou remember me ? 
 
 This world thoi ^h fallen still is thine, 
 
 And dearer fax to-day 
 Than all the countless orbs that shine 
 
 But never went astray. 
 
 For here the blessed Son of God 
 
 Was born, and wept, and died ; 
 Our valleys and our hills he trod. 
 
 And they are sanctified. 
 
 On Him my guilty soul relies, 
 
 Through him I come to thee ; 
 Thou dost accept my sacrifice, 
 
 Thou dost remember me I 
 
144 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 ': . • 'TIS l-BENOT AFRAID. 
 
 Dark hung the clouds o'er Galilee ; 
 A lonely bark was on the sea, 
 
 Where wild the billows played ; 
 Deep terror filled each trembling frame, 
 When suddenly the accents came, 
 
 "'T is I— be not afraid !" 
 
 A martyr stood with tranquil ai"' ; 
 Ho saw the stake, the fetters there, 
 
 The fagots all arrayed ; 
 But, though such darkness reigned around, 
 He caught the sweet, the cheering sound, 
 
 «'T is I— be not afraid!" 
 
 A weary pilgrim roamed alone ; 
 
 For him was breathed no friendly tone. 
 
 No friendly hand brought aid ; 
 But through the gloom so dark and drear, 
 A gentle whisper reached his ear, 
 
 "'T is I— be not afraid ! " 
 
 A mother knelt in anguish wild 
 Beside a loved, a dying child. 
 
 And tears in torrents strayed ; 
 A soothing voice breathed to her heart, 
 In tones that bade despair depart, 
 
 "'T is I—be not afraid I" 
 
 Upon a bed of pain and death 
 
 A Christian faintly drew his breath. 
 
 With spirit half dismayed j 
 He heard a soft, a tender voice — 
 It caused that spirit to rejoice — 
 
 " 'T is I— be not afraid I " 
 
 illU. 
 
SONGS OK IIorE. 
 
 A penitent with streaming eye 
 Raised unto heaven his doleful cry, 
 
 And fervently he prayed ; 
 A brilliant light around him shone, 
 And with it came a heavenly tone, 
 
 "'T is I— be not afraid!" 
 
 And when the trump from yonder skies 
 Shall bid the silent dead arise ; 
 
 When suns and stars shall fade ; 
 When thunders roar, and mountains fall ; 
 The saints shall hear above them all, 
 
 " 'T is I— be not afraid ! " 
 
 145 
 
 THE ONLY PERFECT ONE. 
 
 I have just finished " D'Aubigne's History of the 
 He formation." How many noble characters are here 
 brought to light ! how many fervent Christians — how 
 many lofty souls — how many holy hearts ! The firm 
 and undaunted Luther, the gentle Melancthon, the 
 brave and courageous Zwingle, the mild Ecolampadi- 
 us, the zealous and fiery Farel — and a host of others 
 equally noble in the Master's cause. And yet they 
 all had their faults ; not onc^ of them was perfect. 
 Though we may sometimes feel to deplore their fail- 
 ings, yet surely it is a comfort to the poor Christian, 
 beset with temptations and wandering daily from the 
 straight and narrow path, to look back upon the lives 
 of the best of earth's sons — the noblest and the holi- 
 est, — and behold that even they sometinu^s went 
 
 
 ^:: 
 
14C 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 astray. It buoys up his soul with new hope and cour- 
 age. It bids it cast aside every thought of justifica- 
 tion save by faith in Jesus Christ. It increases that 
 faith, and directs the weary pilgrim to the feet of 
 Him who alone is holy and perfect. — June 30, 1852. 
 
 1 
 
 I:,; 
 
 ''?■! 
 
 THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 
 
 I have heard music from a far-off land, 
 
 Where sighs and sad laments are never heard ; 
 
 Where friends can meet and clasp each other's hand, 
 But ne'er give utterance to that dreadful word 
 
 Which has wrung hearts, and like a funeral knell 
 
 Has tolled for our departed hopes — " Fareiuell ! " 
 
 I have had visions of that blessed clime, 
 
 Where fadeless flowers and fruits immortal grow — 
 Far, far beyond the troubled waves of Time, 
 
 Where streams of living waters sparkling flow ; 
 And while a pilgrim here I sadly roam, 
 I love to call that blissful land my home. 
 
 And often with the passing breeze I hear 
 A sweet, a sad, perchance a warning tone : 
 
 ^' Heaven calls for thee," falls on my willing car ; 
 Oh ! can the glorious message be mine own ? 
 
 Can it be mine, unworthy child of clay. 
 
 To win the realms of everlasting day ? 
 
 Through Ilim who died, through Him who rose again, 
 Tlirougli llim who lives, and lives forevermore, 
 
 I may at kist tliat blissful rest obtain, 
 And I may stand upon the lovely shore 
 
 Where youth and health on every cheek shall bloom, 
 
 lioyond the reach of death and of the tomb. 
 

 SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 147 
 
 ■; ' ii 
 
 
 Then hail sweet voice ! sweet message to my heart I 
 Hail, land of love and home of endless peace I 
 
 Ye ties that bind me here, oh ! quickly part, 
 And shout, my soul, for joy to find release, 
 
 With angels meet and sing in sweet accord, 
 
 Forever blest, forever with the Lord ! 
 
 i 
 
 THE REQUEST. 
 
 Come sit here close beside me and take my hand in 
 
 thine, 
 And tell me of the happy home I think will soon be 
 
 mine ; 
 Oh, tell me of the nver and of the garden fair, 
 And of the tree of life that waves its healing branches 
 
 there ! 
 
 i 
 
 Mi 
 
 4' 
 
 And tell me of the love of God who gave his only Son 
 To die and suffer on the cross for deeds that I have 
 
 done ; 
 And tell to me the holy words the blessed Jesus spake 
 When from the courts of Heaven he came, an exile 
 
 for my sake. 
 
 I love to hear how Mary sat at the Redeemer's feet, — 
 I wish I could have been there too, I would have 
 
 shared her seat ; 
 I envy much the little group that met at Martlia's 
 
 board 
 To listen to the gentle voice of him ' whom they 
 
 adored. 
 
 I envy those rude fishermen who rowed him o'er the 
 
 sea. 
 Who walked with him and talked with him as I now 
 
 talk to thee j 
 
 ■it' 
 
 )i"! 
 
 ! i 
 
 ■:l! ^ 
 
148 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I envy those who brought their sick, just at the cIqso 
 
 of day, 
 That they might be restored to health when Jesus 
 
 passed that way. 
 
 Had I been living then I know I would have joined 
 the crowd, — 
 
 " Have mercy, oh have mercy, Lord ! " I would have 
 cried aloud. 
 
 Thou sayest that I still may go and tell him all my 
 grief, 
 
 And go I will ; " Lord, I believe, help thou my unbe- 
 lief." 
 
 I know my heart is very hard, I feel the load within ; 
 But in the blood of Jesus Christ I wash away my sin ; 
 I lay my burden at his feet while to his cross I cling ; 
 I do so lorg to hear him speak death seems a blessed 
 thing. 
 
 Now kneel here close beside me and lift thy voice in 
 
 prayer 
 That I may say his will be done whatever I may bear. 
 Oh, I should love to ivork for him, if that could be his 
 
 will, 
 But pray that I may be resigned — may suffer and be 
 
 still. 
 
 COMPLETE IN 
 
 Does not the blood of Jesus alone cleanse from all 
 sin ? — who but sinners are invited to the great Foun- 
 tain ? Are my robes filthy ? — where can they be 
 made white but in the blood of the Lamb ? Is my 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 149 
 
 I'll 
 
 t 
 
 heart obdurate and imbelieviinjr ? — who can soften and 
 subdue it save the Ahnighty One Avho listens to its 
 throbbings and knows all its trouble ? Am I tempt- 
 ed, sorely tempted ? — who can pity like Him who in 
 the wilderness met face to face the great enemy, the 
 great tempter of mankind ? Ah, my poor heart aches 
 when I think of all that is in the past and of all the 
 future may have in store for me. But is there no 
 balm in Gilead ? is there no physician there ? Will 
 He not take me by the hand and whisper, " Be of 
 good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee " ? Will He 
 not heal thy wounds by pouring into them the (jil of 
 consolation ? He has promised to do this — yen, much 
 more than this ; and will he for the first time in the 
 history of mankind fail to perform what he has 
 spoken ? Nay, 7ia'//, and I will doubt no longer. . . . 
 Jesus, my Mediator, my Ivcdeemer, have compas- 
 sion upon me, and declare thyself to the* Father as 
 THE Lord my righteousness. — Sept. 18G0. 
 
 'I 
 
 ' TRUST IN GOD. 
 
 Trust in God ! He will direct thee, 
 ^ He will love and will protect thee ; 
 Lean upon his mighty arm. 
 Fear no danger, fear no harm. 
 \ Ti'ust him for his grace and power ; 
 Trust him in each trying hour. 
 
 Trust in God whate'er betide thee ! 
 
 Trust him though he sometimes chide thee : 
 
 ^llli 
 
■ 
 
 150 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 'Tis in love to lead tliee back 
 When thou turnest from the track. 
 Trust him, cling to him forever, 
 And he will desert thee — never. 
 
 Trust in God, the Eock of ages I 
 
 Louder still the tempest rages, 
 
 Earthquakes heave and thunders roar, 
 Mountain surges lash the shore, 
 
 Nations tremble — hark ! the warning. 
 Comes the night, and comes the morning." 
 
 (( 
 
 Watchmen on the walls of Zion 
 Catch a glimpse of Judah's Lion ! 
 Man of sorrows. Lamb once slain, 
 Comes as King of kings to reign, 
 And from long oppressed Creation, 
 Break the anthems of salvation. 
 
 Trust in God ! the morn awaits thee, 
 And while such a hope elates thee, 
 
 Wilt thou fold thy hands in ease ? 
 
 No, the golden moments seize ! 
 Lay thy gift upon the altar. 
 Thou hast duties — do not falter ! 
 
 •i 
 
 A PARADOX. 
 
 Alone, and yet not alone am I ; sad, and yet not 
 sad. No human form intrudes upon my solitude, and 
 yet He who fills creation with himself is surely with 
 me ; sad I am, for there are many earthly thoughts 
 that contribute to cast a shade upon my soul, and yet 
 heavenhj thoughts soon dispel such mournful ones. 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 151 
 
 Oh, that my whole affection might be placed upon 
 things above, and not on things on the earth ! Why 
 should my heart be gloomy when such a glorious 
 prospect opens before me ? — a world of immortal 
 beauty, enlivened by the presence of God himself, and 
 a glorious city, even the Kew Jerusalem. " Fly, lin- 
 gering moments, fly away, and bring that long expect- 
 ed day " when Christ shall appear in glory to take his 
 weary children home. 
 
 I 
 
 "THOU SHALT KNOW HEREAFTER." 
 
 The wind has ceased — how still and tranquil all ! 
 The ghastly moon still shines upon the wall ; 
 While other eyes are closed why do I weep ? 
 Begone, ye phantoms, welcome, balmy sleep ! 
 And bear me to the shadowy land of dreams 
 Where yesternight I roamed by crystal streams, 
 And gathered flowers methought would never fade. 
 Or talked with angels 'neatli the pleasant shade ! 
 
 It was a dream ; ah, yes, and life to me 
 Was once a dream — smooth as the placid sea 
 When all is calm, and on its bosom lies 
 The golden radiance of the summer skies. 
 There came a storm — the thunder's dreadful roar, 
 The angry Avaves that beat against the shore 
 Awakened me — oh, I had lived too long 
 In the bright realms of fancy and of song. 
 
 Perhaps 'twas well the storm swept o'er the sea, 
 
 Perhaps 'twas well the tumult startled me, 
 
 'Twas well I learned there's much to do and dare, ' 
 
 ! I 
 
162 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWKUS. 
 
 Much to be suffered, much to meekly bear, 
 But when I found the real though unsought, 
 And thought of life and trembled as I tJiought,- 
 When like the leaves in autumn day by day 
 Tlie hopes I cherished hastened to decay, 
 And hopeless, helpless in my great despair 
 I turned to earth but found no solace there, 
 'Twas well for me that in the darkened skies 
 I saw the Star of Bethlehem arise ! 
 
 I know not why, though nature craves to know. 
 That all my dreams of happiness below 
 81i(Mild be thus blighted, yet the time is near 
 "When I, poor voyager, often shipwrecked hero, 
 Shall reach the port, and safely moored at last 
 Beview the scenes and sufferings of the past, — 
 Beholding where the shadows darkest lay 
 The dawning glory of immortal day. 
 And all along the path that seemed so drear 
 Leaving this one memorial — God was here ! 
 
 "THINE EYES SHALL SEE THE KING IN HIS BEAUTY." 
 
 The thought is ever present, Shall these eyes indeed 
 see the Maker of the universe ? shall these feet indeed 
 walk the Golden City ? shall these hands wave the 
 palm of victory and strike the chords of the glorious 
 harp whose music shall be sweeter than that of Da- 
 vid's ? Can this be possible, and do I weep and 
 mourn because of present affliction ? Oh, the future, 
 the future ! what has it not in reserve for me ? Glo- 
 ries of which mortal never dreamed: eternal life — 
 eternal happiness — perpetual j'outh — knowledge un- 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 153 
 
 bounded, yet ever increasing ! Fly, fly, fly ,i, ^f 
 pain and sorrow ! Hail, all hail ! bright morn of de- 
 liverance. It will come ; and I_oh, the thoiudit 
 averpowers me-I, poor and wretched and sinful, 
 siiall be blessed forever, forever, foiieveii. 
 
 « 
 
 ALL IS WELL 
 
 DaTk the future yawns before mo, 
 Bitter griefs my bosom swell ; 
 
 h»ut a light is breaking o'or mo, 
 And a voice— "All, all is well ! " 
 
 Sad and lone has been my joui'uey, 
 Sad and lone my way must I)o : ' 
 
 Care and sorrow, pain and sickness, 
 -Long have been allotted me. 
 
 Sunshine that o'er youthful bosoms 
 1^ lings a bright and magic spell, 
 
 beldom breaks upon my pathway, 
 Yet I know that all is well ! 
 
 If the Hand that guides the planets 
 Feeds the ravens when they vaj 
 
 Can it be that I'm unnoticed ' 
 
 By a Father's loving eye ? 
 
 He has thoughts of mercy toward me, 
 
 His designs I cannot tell ; 
 Tis enough for me to trust Him, 
 
 He knows best— and all is well ! 
 
 Many doubts and many shadows 
 Oft have flitted through my mind, 
 
 !il 
 
154 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEllS. 
 
 And I've quostionod, sadly questioned, 
 But no answer could I find. 
 
 Earth was silent to my pleading, 
 Nature taught me to rebel ; 
 
 But when I recall the promise 
 " / am with thee " — all is well I 
 
 :!:•( 
 
 Many things I can't unravel ; 
 
 Many winding mazes see ; 
 But I'll go with faith unshaken, 
 
 For the Lord is leading me. 
 
 And when beams of endless glory 
 The mysterious clouds dispel, 
 
 Grateful shall I tell my story, 
 Grateful say that all was well I 
 
 WE SHALL MEET. 
 
 We have wandered oft together 
 At the hour of setting sun ; 
 
 Shall we wander thus together. 
 When the toils of life are done ? 
 
 Many hours we've spent together 
 Scenes of joy and grief have known ; 
 
 Shall we spend the hours together 
 When the joy will be alone ? 
 
 Sad indeed would be our parting 
 If we hoped to meet no more, 
 
 But although the tears are starting, . 
 Look we to a brighter shore. 
 
SONGS OP HOPE. 
 
 Dark indeed would be the morrow 
 When apart we sadly roam, 
 
 If beyond this world of sorrow 
 We could see no happier home. 
 
 But weVe heard a joyful story 
 Of a land that's bright and fair, 
 
 And we hope to share its glory, 
 And to meet each otherwhere. 
 
 v.. 
 
 Swiftly onward to the ocean 
 Roll the troubled waves of time, 
 
 Bearing us with every motion 
 Nearer to the blessed clime. 
 
 Soon the tears that now are starting 
 With their causes will be o'er ; 
 
 Soon the hands now clasped in parting 
 Will be joined forevermore. 
 
 We have shared one home together, 
 We have sat around one board j 
 
 And we'll find a home together 
 In the Paradise restored ! 
 
 155 
 
 WHAT THE DAUGHTER OF THE CLOUD SAID. 
 
 Down the spout a torrent gushed, to be pent up in 
 an old, dark tub, and made the slave of the washer- 
 woman. Would it not have been better for thee, O 
 water, to have fallen in the beautiful forest ? to lie in 
 the bosom of the lily, or become a looking-glass for 
 the many colored insects? "I would be useful," 
 whispered the daughter of the cloud, " therefore 'l 
 
 >'i 
 

 I if 
 
 IP 
 
 
 15G 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS, 
 
 have stooi)0(I to an liumblo action — I loft the abode of 
 the lightning. INIy lot is a lowly one ; my life full of 
 sorrow and humiliation. I must pass through a fiery 
 ordeal ; I must bo east out and despised by those 
 whom I have served. Uut then ^vill be the time of 
 my exaltation : the blessed Sun will take pity upon 
 me, and make me a gem of beauty in the angels' high- 
 way ! " 
 
 [Though no application lias been made of this similitude, 
 yet the truth (IcsigMod to bo taught is easily gathered: The 
 Christian may be called to many a lowly act — to a ministration 
 vvhicli will subject lihu to reproach and suffering hero, but the 
 day of exaltation is sure to come. "lie that humbleth him- 
 self shall be exalted." The day hastens when from the heav- 
 ens the Saviour will descend, "who will transform the body 
 of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of 
 his glory." — Phil, 3 : 21 {Am. Bible Union Traiifi.). How 
 glorious will the humble workers of earth appear when they 
 are beautilied by the Sun of righteousness in the resurrection 
 morning! That will be an Easter day of surpassing loveli- 
 ness,] 
 
 l:\ 
 
 ■ THIS IS NOT HOME. 
 
 This is not home ! from o'er the stormy sea 
 Bright birds of passage wing their way to me ; 
 They bear a message from the loved and lost 
 Who tried the angry waves and safely erossed, 
 And now in homelike mansions find repose 
 Where billows never roar nor tempest blows 
 
 As strangers here in foreign lands we ron 
 Oh, why should not the exile sigh for hou . 
 
I ! 
 
 SOXGS OF HOPE. 
 
 157 
 
 A thousand snares beset our thorny way, 
 
 And night is round us — why nt)t wisli lor day ? 
 
 The storm is high, beneath its wintry wing 
 
 The blossom fades — oh, why not wish for Spring? 
 
 Tlio waters roll o'er treasures buried deep, 
 And sacred dust the lonely churchyards keej) — 
 Homes arc dissolved and ties are rent in twain. 
 And things that charm can never charm again, 
 On every brow wo mark the hand of time, 
 Oh, why not long for tlie celestial clime ? 
 
 Wave after wave rolls inward to the land, 
 Then comes the Avail and then tlie parting hand, 
 And those for Avhom we would iiavc freely died 
 Arc borne away upon the ebbing tide ; 
 We weep and mourn, we bid the sea restore. 
 It mocks our grief — and takes one idol more. 
 
 'Tis well for us that ties which bind the heart 
 Too strongly here are rudely snapped apart ; 
 'Tis well the pitcher at the fountain breaks. 
 The golden bowl is shattered for our sakes, 
 To show how frail and fleeting all we love, 
 To raise our souls to lasting things above. 
 
 We are but pilgrims — like the tribes who roam 
 
 In every land but call no land their home, — 
 
 And what their ancient Canaan is to them. 
 
 So is to us the New Jerusalem ; 
 
 Then while our hopes, our hearts, our homes are there^ 
 
 " Thy Kingdom come " must be our fervent prayer ! 
 
 W 111 
 
 THE SOUL'S CONSOLATION. 
 
 Ah, well it is for thee that there is one ear that 
 will listen, one eye that pities, one heart that will 
 
«;" 
 
 l!^ 
 
 ,11 ) 
 
 * 
 
 i'l 
 
 
 158 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 take thee in — " Thou God seest me I " Was ever 
 consolation contained in so few words ? Oh, repeat 
 it when the heart is breaking — when between thee 
 and every earthly object yawns a gulf dark and im- 
 passable. Thou God scGst me I Thou God lovest me 
 — lovest me / Thou knowest the agony of my spirit : 
 thou knowest what I suffer, and thou must give me 
 strength and grace to endure all, and to say in truth 
 and sincerity. Thy will not mine be done. 
 
 "WE SEE THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY." 
 
 "We weep when from the darkened sky 
 
 The thunderbolts are driven, 
 And wheresoe'er we turn our eye 
 
 Our earthly hopes are riven ; 
 But could wo look beyond the storm 
 
 That threatens all before us. 
 We mif^bt observe a heavenly form 
 
 Guiding the tempest o'er us. 
 
 The eye that sees the sparrow's fall, 
 
 That never sleeps nor slumbers, 
 Beholds our griefs however small. 
 
 And every sigh he numbers. 
 The angels ily at his command, 
 
 With love their bosoms swelling, 
 They lead us gently by the hand, — 
 
 They hover round our dwelling. 
 
 And when the fading things of earth 
 
 Our hearts too fondly cherish, 
 Forgetful of their mortal birth. 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 159 
 
 How suddenly thoy perish ! 
 But 'tis in mercy and in love 
 
 Our Father thus chastises, 
 To fix our thoughts on things above ; 
 
 He strikes, yet sympathizes. 
 
 We know not, and we may not know 
 
 Till dawn the endless ages. 
 Why round his children here below 
 
 The howling temi)est rages ; 
 But this we know, that life nor death 
 
 Our souls from him can sever ! 
 Wc^'ll ])raise him with our latest breath- 
 
 We'll sing his praise forever! 
 
 u 
 
 WORDS OF CHEER FOR FAINTING CHRISTIANS. 
 
 Poor pilgrim, weary with the toils of life, distressed 
 and afflicted on every hand, persecuted and forsaken 
 by thy f ellowmen, hast thou ever fathomed the depths 
 of tluit glorious declaration, " I will never leave thee, 
 nor forsake thee " ? — Ileb. 13 : 5. Hast thou ever 
 realized that in whatever situation thou mayest be 
 placed — on the mountains of delight or in the vale of 
 humiliation, in sickness or in health, in prosperity or 
 in adversity, in life or in death — thou art under the 
 immediate protection of the great Shepherd of Israel, 
 who never sleeps nor slumbcu's V The heavens may 
 gather blackness, the storm may come down in fury, 
 but He who whispered, " Peace, be still," to the rag- 
 ing billows, is " the same yesterday, to-day and for- 
 ever "j and though now invisible his presence is with 
 
 "fl:i 
 
 ;: 1^1; 
 
 iltii 
 
*! I, 
 
 I 
 
 IGO 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 thee as truly and as really as it was with the timid 
 band of disciples on the stormy sea of Galilee. The 
 same Jesus that walked the streets of Jerusalem, — 
 the pitiful, the affectionate, the tender-hearted, — is an 
 eye-witness of all thy tears, thy trials and tempta- 
 tions. His ear, which Avas never closed to the cry of 
 the poor and needy, is still open to thy call ; and the 
 heart which embraced the whole universe has a place 
 for thee. The fires upon thy altar may have grown 
 dim ; the sacriiice may have been the poor and lean 
 of thy flock ; but the coals of divine love are bright 
 upon the heavenly altar ; and the great Sacrifice — the 
 Lamb without spot or blemish — whispers of Calvary 
 and Gethsemane, and mentions thee in his interces- 
 sion. 
 
 Amazing love ! love never to be fathomed. Angels 
 who wait to do his bidding, seraphim and cherubim 
 who behold his face in glory, can ye comprehend the 
 height and depth, the length and breadth of the Sav- 
 iour's love ? Ah ! angels, and seraphim, and cheru- 
 bim still bend above the mercy-seat and " desire to 
 look into " these things ; but ages on ages of eternity 
 may roll away and the love that bowed the heavens 
 for sinful and degraded mortals shall still remain an 
 unsounded deep ! And this love is for thee — for thee, 
 poor pilgrim. Plunge then deeply into this uiifath- 
 able ocean. Fear not to loosen thy hold upon the 
 shore : there is nothing there worthy thy love. Thou 
 art an heir of immortality, and the i)leasures which 
 endure for a season should be nothing to thee. 
 
SONGS OF HOPE. 
 
 161 
 
 Wealth, aad honor, and power are only the gildings 
 ot a groanmg and sin-cursed earth. The shout o^ 
 mu.th and revelry borne upon the midnight ah are 
 only the prelude to tears and sighs and^mou iing 
 Behmd hee is the blaekness of despair, before het 
 
 st wl f '"^fT'^r- ^™y' -4; tarrynot 
 sip water from the broken cistern, for the living foun- 
 
 1 , Kev. 21 : 6 ; 22 : 17).— Aug. 10, 1856. 
 
 I (;i ■ : 
 
 f 
 
 ! ! 
 
 mv 
 
 i^ I 
 
 Iji 
 
 m 
 
i 
 
 llf 
 
 ^xmlluxj. 
 
 THE DYING YEAR. 
 
 Hark ! there comes at midniglit hour 
 
 Sound like funeral knell, 
 Cliaininj^ us with magic power, 
 
 Whispering, "Farewell." 
 
 'Tis the dying year's last sigh 
 Mingling with the storm ; 
 
 Closes now his hollow eye, 
 Sinks his feeble form. 
 
 Still at midnight, dark and lone, 
 
 Mournful eeJioes ring, 
 Murmuring in solemn tone, 
 
 " Tivie is on the ivliig" 
 
 INCOMPREHENSIBILITY OF GOD. 
 
 O God, where art thou ? where thy mighty throne ? 
 Why is thy face unseen, and thou unknown ? — 
 Source and support of idl, why is thy form 
 Hidden from mortal eyes ? when every storm 
 That sweeps athwart the dark and angry sky. 
 When all the bright and burning orbs on high. 
 When the deep sea that in its fury roars, 
 Wlien all its beautiful and fertile shores. 
 When every river, 1 HI and lowly dale. 
 When every mounta: i, tree, and flowery vale, 
 
MISCELLAN\'. 
 
 163 
 
 When every bird, and e' -n the springing sod, 
 Whisper aloud, " There is, there is a God ! " 
 
 These are thy Avorks ; but Avhcre, God, art thou ? 
 Pavilioned in di^ep darkness, is tliy brow 
 Hid in dark folds, ne'er to be drawn apart ? 
 Will mortal never see thee as thou art ? 
 Yes ; when the wheels of time have ceased to run, 
 When yon bright orb its glorious task ha,s done, 
 Then will the veil be rent which once concealed 
 The throne of God, the mighty unrevealed ; 
 Then human eyes will view his dwelling-place, 
 And saints, as angels, see him face to face. 
 
 Ill] 
 
 THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 
 
 Lo in the east the Star begins to rise. 
 
 The glorious centre for admiring eyes 
 
 Of men and angels — Herald of the morn 
 
 So long foretold, the Prince of peace is born ! 
 
 O'er all the earth let hallelujahs ring, 
 
 Let all the earth a fitting tribute bring — 
 
 With gold and silver, frankincense and myrrh. 
 
 Come from the south, or, clad in robes of fur, 
 
 Come from the frozen north, from east and west, 
 
 Prince, priest and warrior, earth's great ones and best, 
 
 Come to the manger, humbly there lay down 
 
 The sword, the mitre and the jeweled crown. 
 
 The rich and noble celebrate the day 
 
 With pomp and show ; but Avho are these ? make way 
 
 Ye sons of wealth ! ye rulers stand aside 1 
 
 This is no place, this is no hour for prid(; ; 
 
 The sick, the lame, the blind, the deaf, the dumb. 
 
 The sinful, poor and sorrowful may come ; 
 
Twr 
 
 1G4 
 
 CAXAUIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 I I 
 
 < •■: , 
 
 And even I can bring my little store — 
 A weary, sin-sick heart — Pve nothing more : 
 The world may frown, the lofty mny dospir-se, 
 The gift is precious in my Saviour's eyes. 
 To him as sacred are the tears that fall 
 In lowly cottage as in princely hall, — 
 Ko rich, no poor his loving bosom knows, 
 He cares for all and pities all their woes. 
 In the same censer offers up their prayers, 
 And on his heart their names alike he bears. 
 
 O Star above all stars ! whose blessed light 
 Illumes the darkness of our moral night. 
 Still guide our wandering feet till He whose birth 
 Thou didst announce shall come again to earth. 
 And wise and simple, king and subject meet 
 To hear their doom before the judgment-seat, — 
 Till nature's groans with human groans shall cease, 
 And Earth itself, once more with Heaven at peace, 
 Shall put her robes of deathless beauty on. 
 Time be no more, and the millennium dawn ! 
 
 GOD MADE ME POOR. 
 
 God made me poor — ^am I to blame ? 
 
 And shall I bow my head 
 As though it were some dreadful shame 
 
 I had inherited ? 
 
 Shall I among the rich and great 
 Like trembling culprit stand, 
 
 Or like obedient servant wait 
 To do their least command ? 
 
 And when they pass me by in scorn — 
 As they have often done, — 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 Shall I regret that T was born 
 An humble farmer's son ? 
 
 No ! should it ever cause a sigh 
 This were indeed a shame ; 
 
 For all unworthy then were I 
 To bear my lather's name. 
 
 ril pay to all tlie homac^e due • 
 Whatever rank they liold ; 
 
 But to my manhood ever true. 
 I ivill not how to gold. 
 
 165 
 
 THE STRANGER GUEST. 
 
 Came a stranger, sad and weary, 
 To my humble cot one day, 
 
 And he asked me for a shelter, — 
 Long and rough had been the way 
 
 He had traveled 
 On that sultry summer day. 
 
 Pain and grief had marred his beauty, 
 
 And a tear was in his eye 
 As he asked me for a shelter, 
 
 And then waited a reply. 
 Tears did gather 
 
 In mine own, I knew not why. 
 
 'Neath my humble roof T led him. 
 As he crossed the threshold o'er 
 
 " Peace to thee," he softly whispered ; 
 Peace I never knew before 
 
 Filled my bosom, 
 As the stranger tilled my door. 
 
1C6 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 Bo my friend nnd guest forever, 
 In ii trembling voice I said ; 
 
 And ho smiled and laid so gently 
 One dear hand npon my head ; 
 
 It was bleeding, 
 And I knew for mo it bled 1 
 
 " I Avill be thy guest forever," 
 Said the strimger unto me ; 
 
 " But the cost — say, hast thou counted- 
 Countod what tlio cost will be ? 
 
 Earthly pleasures. 
 Wilt thou leave them all for me ? 
 
 " Wilt thou take my yoke upon thee ? 
 
 Wilt thou humbly boar my name ? 
 Crush the risings of ambition. 
 
 And the hopes of earthly fame ? 
 Freely suffering, 
 
 For my sake, reproach and shame ? " 
 
 Then I s.aid. Both fame and pleasure 
 
 Willingly I can resign ; 
 Let me only feel thy presence, 
 
 Let mo know that thou art mine. 
 And dear Saviour, 
 
 All I have and am are thine ! 
 
 A LONG DELIGHTFUL WALK. 
 
 While reading to-day an account of the descendants 
 of Adam my mind was particularly struck with the 
 short but comprehensive narrative of Enoch : " He 
 walked with God, and he was not ; for God took him" 
 
fW 
 
 MISCELLANY. 
 
 1G7 
 
 (Gen. 5 : 21-24). Ho " walked with G(xl,» and how 
 long ? « Throe hundred years " alter ho Ijogat Me- 
 thuselah. Oh, how strange that it should be so hard 
 for me to walk in the eommandmcnts of the Lord 
 even for a few days ! God, give me more of the 
 love and more of the faith that Enoch possessed — 
 Auff. 18, lSo3. 
 
 "THE SERVANT IS NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER." 
 
 Lonely ])ilgrim, art thou sinking 
 
 /Neath the weight of gric^f and eare ? 
 Bitter dregs of sorrow drinking 
 
 From the cup of dark despair ? 
 Mourn not, for thy Master's footsteps 
 
 The sanu^ gloomy paths have trod ; 
 He has drained the cup of anguish, — 
 
 He, the mighty Son of God. 
 
 Does guant poverty surround thee, 
 
 With its ])ale and meagre train ? 
 Do they gather closely round thet'. 
 
 Want, and suffering and pain ? 
 Mourn not, for the chi41y dew-drops 
 
 Fell upon thy Master's bed ; 
 Mourn not, for the Prince; of Glory 
 
 Had not where to lay his liead ! 
 
 Are thy kindred lowly lying 
 In the cold and silent tomb, 
 
 Heedless of thy plaintive sighing. 
 Heedless of thy grief and gloom ? 
 
 Know thy Master's tears descended 
 Where a dearly-loved one slept; 
 
108 
 
 CAXADIAX WILD FLOWEUS. 
 
 1 
 
 Ho knows well thy weight of sorrow; 
 ]\[uniuii' not, tor Jesus wept. 
 
 Do the i'riends that onoo earessed thee 
 
 Pass thee by with irowniiip^ brow ? 
 Has t]u) friendship that onee blessed thee 
 
 Changed to bitter hatred now ? 
 Weep not, for tliy Master's brethren 
 
 In his sorrow turned asid(^, 
 Scorned to own that onee they loved himj 
 
 Weep not, — Jesus was denied! 
 
 Does a scoffing world deride thee. 
 
 And expose to scorn and shame ? 
 Do thy foes rise up beside thee, 
 
 ]51ast thy character and name ? 
 Know thy Master was derided, 
 
 Scorned in Pilate's judgment-hall. 
 Mourn not ; Clirist, the great Redeemer, 
 
 AVas despised and loathed by all. 
 
 Art thou torn with grief and anguish ? 
 
 Hacked with many a burning pain ? 
 Does thy weary body languish ? 
 
 Pearful pangs torment thy brain ? 
 !Murmur not ; from Calvary's mountaiu 
 
 List thy Master's dying groan ! 
 Murmur not ; thy great Kedeemer 
 
 Gave his life to save thine own ! 
 
 Does the monster Death look dreary ? 
 
 Pill thy mind with fears and gloom ? 
 Does thy spirit, faint and weary, 
 
 Shrink in terror from the tomb ? 
 Know thy Master 's gone before thee, 
 
 Crossed the dark and narrow tide, 
 
MJHt'EJ.LA.N i'. 
 
 Disarmod Death of all his terrors : 
 J-hen lear not— thy Saviour died I 
 
 Y.^, ho dicd,--the Prince of GIopn- - 
 -Died upon the cursed tree : 
 
 iilpm, spread the joyful story: 
 Jesus died, and died for thee f 
 
 AZT'^r^'"' '"'" triumi.lKant,- 
 Lurst the bars of death in twain. 
 Lonely pilgnni, that same Jesus 
 Will return to earth again ! 
 
 See the first faint beams of morniuL^ 
 
 Chasm.Gr mght and clouds away, 
 All the glorious sky adorning; 
 
 1 ilgnm. It is break of dayl 
 Eouse thee, pilgrim, weep no longer; 
 
 Let thy glad Ilosannaiin-f ' 
 
 Jesus conies in power and glm-y • 
 
 Hail thy Saviour and thy Jil^r f 
 
 1C9 
 
 ELIJAH. 
 
 ?nrl'^fi^,l\'''''^' ?'' *^^^ "mountain's brow 
 
 Foi tl v1 i'^^f' *^^? ^"^^^^^ P^'^PlK^t, now ! 
 x'oi tiiy friends are few in^l fLx/+'^ 
 
 As thou standust alone in tliy nuijcsty. 
 The prophets of Baal are many and ..reat 
 With a scorniul eye and a liaughty air 
 WhL the'Cf '^f 'f''^" their^ta^tiou'there, 
 
 ^.m 
 
 n 
 
m 
 
 170 
 
 CANADIAN WILD KLOWEKS. 
 
 Iri 
 
 
 f. i > 
 
 Yet firm is thy sto]), and oalin thy brow — 
 Tlio Lord God oi" hosts is lor tho(3 now ; 
 And, stron.tj: in his str(Mi,i;th, thou mayest advance, 
 And defy the worhl with tliy piereiiijj^ ^daneej 
 While the prophets of IJaal bend at tliy nod, 
 And tlio peoph3^own that the Lord, he is God. 
 
 The sun shines l)right in the azure sky. 
 
 And the morning breeze sweeps gently by, 
 
 And all is quiet on earth, in air — 
 
 Not a sound eseapes from that multitude there; 
 
 Though eager each eye and troubled each mien, 
 
 Yet the stillness of death reigns over the scene. 
 
 But a voice is heard ; and clear and loud 
 It breaks on the oars of the listening crowd; 
 They quickly obey. A space is cleared ; 
 The bullock is slain, the altar is reared ; 
 While the prophets of Baal around it bend. 
 And implore their god an answer to send. 
 
 The day Avears on, and the sun is high — 
 
 Still round that altar they madly cry ; 
 
 But the sky is serene as ever before, 
 
 And, frantic with rage, they shout the more ; 
 
 But 't is all in vain ; and the day has past, 
 
 And the prophets of Baal have yielded at last. 
 
 Each, heart beats high with anxiety there, 
 As Elijah, Avitli calm, majestic air, 
 Alone and exposed to a nation's frown, 
 Rebuilds the altar long since thrown down. 
 'T is the hour for the evening sacrifice now. 
 And he solemnly kneels on the mountain's brow. 
 
 On the name of the Lord his God he calls ; 
 When, lo ! quick as lightning, the tire falls I 
 
MISCKLLANY. 
 
 171 
 
 A sniftkc ascends to the vaulted skv, 
 
 And with it arises a miiiglod cry ; 
 
 And bowed is each head, and lu-nt is each knen 
 
 As "The Lord, ho is God!" rings loud o'er the sea. 
 
 'T is night, and the evening l)reeze grows chill; 
 The prophet pleads with Jehovah still ; 
 He has seen the prophets of Baal slain, 
 And now he implores i'or the falling rain. 
 The heavens grow black at Jehovah's word ; 
 Aiise, Elijah, thy prayer is heard I 
 
 THE SACRED PAGE. 
 
 Golden-headed vouth and silver-headed age 
 Bend together earnestly o'er the Sacred Page ; 
 One amid spring blossoms, while the falling leaves 
 Gather round the other sitting 'mid the sheaves ; 
 One amid the twilight of the coming day. 
 While the shadows deepen round the other's way. 
 
 Golden-headed youth and silver-headed age 
 
 Read the same sweet lessons from the Sacred Page ; 
 
 Eyes that brim with laughter, eyes that dim with 
 
 years, 
 Resting there pay tribute in a flood of tears ; 
 Rosy lips and pallid trembling at the cry — 
 Mournfully repeating the Sabachthani ! 
 
 Golden-headed youth and silver-headed age 
 
 Draw their consolation from the Sacred Page ; 
 
 One is in the valley where the grass is green, 
 
 "While the other gazes on a wintry scene ; 
 
 Both have lost their birth-right — both have felt their 
 
 loss. 
 And they both regain it through the blessed Cross I 
 
172 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 It '< 
 
 Golden-headed youth and silver-headed age, 
 Find ^-heir way to Heaven in the Sacred Pago ; 
 Like th 3 little children waiting to be blessed, 
 One goes forth rejoicing to the Saviour's breast, 
 While the other clingeth to his mighty arm, 
 *Mid the swelling Jordan feeling no alarm. 
 
 Golden-headed youth and silver-headed age. 
 Come, and seek for treasures in the Sacred Page ; 
 To the one how tender is the Saviour's call ; 
 Yet the invitation He extends to all ; 
 Earthly fountains fail you — hasten to assuage 
 Every grief of childhood — every pnng of age ! 
 
 Oh, what a book is the Bible ! There is enough in 
 one verse to condemn the whole world, and enough in 
 another to redeem it. 
 
 No man in a dark night can behold himself in a 
 mirror until a lamp is lighted, — and not even then 
 distinctly and perfectly until the dawn of day : so no 
 man can sec himsolf in God's mirror until the beams 
 of the divine lamp [the Holy Spirit] illume his soul, — 
 nor even then can he see perfectly what a wretched 
 and distorted being he is " until the day break " and, 
 being made like his Saviour, he contrasts what he is 
 with what he once was. 
 
 BEHOLD HOW HE LOVED US. 
 
 While on the cross the Saviour bleeds, 
 While friend nor foe his anguish heeds, 
 While many n, taunt and bitter jeer 
 Break harshly on his holy ear, 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 173 
 
 He prays, — what can that last prayer hv ? 
 Oh, wondrous love, he prays for me ! 
 
 Deep anguish fills his troubled soul, 
 The streams of blood in torrents roll ; 
 And louder railings now are heard ; 
 He breathes not one complaining word ; 
 Yet, hark ! he prays, — what can it be ? 
 Oh, wondrous love, he jjrays for me ! 
 
 He bows his head, Immanuel dies ; 
 Darkness o'erspreads the azure skies. 
 Loud thunders shake the earth and air, 
 And earthquakes heave in horror there ; 
 Angels the act with wonder see ; 
 Oh, matchless love, he dies for me ! 
 
 He leaves the dark and gloomy grave, 
 While angel-pinions round him wave, 
 And, rising from the mountain's brow. 
 Appears before his Father now ; 
 He pleads, — what can those pleadings be ? 
 Oh, deathless love, he pleads for me ! 
 
 And can I then such scenes behold, 
 And still be careless, still be cold ? 
 Can I, with air of sinful pride. 
 Cast such unbounded love aside ? 
 ' My soul, oh, can it, can it be ? 
 Has Jesus died in vain for thee ? 
 
 Oh, no I the crimson streams that glide 
 From Calvary's deeply blood-stained side, 
 Invite iiy soul, so stained with sin. 
 To wasli away its guilt therein j 
 And in those precious drops I see 
 Christ has not died in vain for me I 
 
 i I 
 
174 
 
 CANADIAN WILP FLOWERS. 
 
 It K 
 
 The Saviour pleads, in thrilling tone, 
 Before his mighty Eathcn-'s throne, 
 That for his sake my guilty name 
 Within the book of life may (;laim 
 A T)lacc. He smiles ; and now I see 
 Christ does not plead in vain for me I 
 
 Amazing love ! what tongue ean tell 
 The wondrous dej^ths that in thee dwell ? 
 WJiat angel's mind can e'er explore 
 The riches of thy boundless store ? 
 Oh, matchless love beyond degree, — 
 Christ bled, he died, and pleads for me ! 
 
 LOVE YOUR ENEMIES. 
 
 .Arrows dipped in poison flew 
 
 From the fatal bow ; 
 And they pierced my bosom through. 
 
 And tliey lai^^i(3 low. 
 
 Every nerve to anguish strung, 
 
 In distress I cried : 
 And the waste around me rung. 
 
 But no voice replied. 
 
 " Cruel was the hand," I said, 
 " That could draw the bow : 
 Curses rest upon the head 
 Of my heartless foe ! " 
 
 Turning straightway at the sound, 
 
 In tlij tangled wood. 
 Pale, and bearing many a wound, 
 
 There a stranger stood. 
 
MISCKLLANY. 
 
 175 
 
 Mournfully on jno he gazed, 
 
 Not a word he said : 
 But one hand tlto stranger raised, 
 
 And I saw it bled. 
 
 Blood was flowing from his side 
 
 And his thorn-pierced brow ; 
 
 "Wlio has wound(3d thee ?" I cried, 
 
 And he answered, " TIlou ! " 
 
 Then I knew the Stranger well, 
 And Avith sol)S and tears 
 
 Prostrate at his feet I fell. 
 But he soothed my fears. 
 
 " Thou hast wounded me, but live,— 
 And my blessing take : 
 Henceforth wilt thou not forgive 
 Freely for my sake ? " 
 
 Kesting in his fond embrace, 
 
 Eased of every woe, — 
 Tlien I said, with smiling face, 
 " Jesus, bless my foe ! " 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 • The storm was loud; a murky cloud 
 
 O'erhung the midnight sky, 
 And rude the blast that wildly passed 
 
 A lonely oi'phan by ; 
 But ruder still the bitter thrill 
 
 Of wo(» that rent his heart ; 
 Darker his fears, sadder the tears 
 
 That evermore would start. 
 
 
176 
 
 CAXADJAX WILD FLOWEUS. 
 
 " Bloak is the stoi'in, and on my form 
 
 The winds iu fury beat ; 
 A racking pain tormejits my brain, 
 
 And sore these weary feet ; 
 No ray of light ilkmies the night, 
 
 And here, alas ! I roam. 
 Where tempests howl and wild beasts growl ; 
 
 Oh, that I had a home ! 
 
 " Full many a day has rolled away 
 
 Since I have laid me down, 
 To cease to weep, and full asleep. 
 
 Save on the cold, damp ground ; 
 And many more may pass me o'er 
 
 Ere I may cease to roam ; 
 One year ago it was not so, — 
 
 For then I had a home ! 
 
 " Then on his child a father smiled, 
 
 And fondly me caressed ; 
 When sorrow came, or bitter pain, 
 
 I leaned upon his breast; 
 He'd kiss my cheek, and kindly speak 
 
 In soft and soothing tone ; 
 Oh, what a strange and dreary change — 
 
 For then I had a home ! 
 
 " When e /ening gray shut out the day, 
 
 Beside my mother's knee, 
 With simple air I breathed the prayer 
 
 That mother taught to me ; 
 Then laid me down, not on the ground, 
 
 Not on this cold, damp stone ; 
 But on my bed, love made instead, — 
 
 For then I had a home ! 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 177 
 
 " The livelong day I spent in play 
 
 Around our peaceful cot, 
 Or plucked the flowers from blooming bowers 
 
 And to my mother brought. ' 
 
 Then bliss and joy without alloy, 
 
 And love around me shone ; 
 Then hope could rest within my breast 
 
 For then I had a home I 
 
 '' My father died, and by his side 
 
 My darling mother sleeps ; 
 And now their child in anguish wild. 
 
 Wanders around and weeps ! 
 The pleasant cot my father bought 
 
 A stranger calls his own ; 
 With tearful face I left the place, 
 
 For it was not my home ! 
 
 "No home have I, no shelter nigh. 
 
 And none my grief to share ; 
 But I've a Friend, to him I'll bend, 
 
 And h(^ will grant my prayer. 
 He'll lend an ear for he can hear. 
 
 Though high his mighty throne ; 
 My steps he'll guide, and he'll provide 
 
 The orphan with a home ! 
 
 « Dark grows the sk}-, my lips are dry, 
 
 And cold my aching brow ; 
 Is this a dream ? — for, lo ! I seem 
 
 To see my mother now ! 
 Faint grows my breath, the arms of death 
 
 Are surely round mo thrown ; 
 Oh, what a "light breaks on my sight ! 
 
 There, there's the orphan's home ! " 
 
 M' 
 
178 
 
 CAXADIAX WJLD FLOWERS. 
 
 With smiling face in death's embrace 
 
 Tlie oi'plian calmly slept ; 
 He heard no more the tempest's roar; 
 
 No more the orphan wept. 
 No longer pain might rack his brain, 
 
 No longer might he roam, 
 The dearly loved he'd met above, 
 
 And found with them a home ! 
 
 SENTENTIOUS PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 Rest/ but few can comprehend the word. At morn 
 I speak it, but at midnight most, and then 'tis music ! 
 Oh, the thought of rest — of perfect freedom from dis- 
 tress and pain — of health, of vigor in each nei ve and 
 limb. The thought inspires, consoles, and makes me 
 pray for fear I shall lose the blessing. Grant me, 
 God, a patient heart ; and may my will be so con- 
 formed to thine, tliat I may wait thy own good pleas- 
 ure, whatsoever it be. 
 
 There are moments when Calvary overshadows 
 Mount Sinai ; when the blessed words, " It is fin- 
 ished," swell long and loud above the roar of thunder 
 and the sound of trumpets; when th i Cross conceals 
 the Tables of stone bearing the holy law of the 
 Almighty, and then I can boldly reply to the upbraid- 
 ings of Conscience, " There is now no condemnation 
 to them which are in Christ Jesus." 
 
 Sing, my heart, for the day cometh wherein the 
 night shall be no more at all remembered ; the clouds 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 179 
 
 shall melt like vapor, and the voice of mourning and 
 lamentation shall be heard no more forever. Awake 
 
 and sing ! 
 
 "YE DID IT NOT TO ME." 
 
 }rr 
 
 I was niglit — a dark and stormy night: 
 
 The wintry winds were high ; 
 Within the lire was blazing ijriglit 
 And as I trimmed the clieerfal 'light 
 I heard a pleading cry. 
 
 " Come in/' in hasty iones I said, 
 
 The door flew open wide 
 
 The tempest roar(Kl— I shrieked with dread, 
 -bor, lo, a Spectre from th( dead 
 
 Was standing by my side ! 
 
 One icy liand was on mine own, 
 
 I would liave turned and fled : 
 But ah ! my limbs were chilled to stone, 
 As in a low, se])ulchral tone 
 
 The sheetod Spectre said : 
 
 " It was a night like this I died, 
 
 Scorned by my fellow inen • 
 To me a shelter was denied 
 But when they slumber l)y my side, 
 
 We shall be equals then. 
 
 " I starved— and thou wast clothed and fed, 
 And had enough to spare ; 
 Thou mightst have come with gentle tread. 
 And stood beside my dying bed 
 And found a blessing there. 
 
 I. i 
 
Il * 
 
 180 CA^TADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 1 " But now my curse : nor mine alone — 
 
 The moment yet will be 
 When thou wilt stand before the Throne, 
 And hear it said in thunder tone : 
 
 < 7:hou didst it not to IMe.^ " 
 
 The light grew dim throughout the room, 
 
 Soon darkness reigned supreme, 
 But that pale Spectre from the tomb 
 Still eyed me through the dusky gloom,— 
 Thank God, 'twas but a dream ! 
 
 HEAR AND HELP ME. 
 
 Darkness and death are round me, 
 
 .The night is late ; 
 Yet once the Shepherd found me 
 
 In sucli a state ! 
 He lulled my fears to rest, 
 He took njc to his breast ; 
 Is he less kind to-day ? 
 Lord Jesus, hear me pray ! 
 
 Oh, hear me pray ! 
 Remove the hateful sin 
 Which cankers all within 
 
 And shrouds my way. 
 Oh, hear me in my anguish. 
 
 My Saviour God ! 
 I droop, I faint, I languish 
 
 Beneath thy rod : 
 I tremble on the brink. 
 Support me or I sink : 
 Oh, hear me while I cry ; 
 Oh, save me or I die ! 
 
 • 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 181 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 We stood upon the lonely shore 
 
 And watched the bounding bark 
 Which far away the loved ones bore, 
 
 On billows wild and dark ; 
 And then there came a gloomy sound 
 Mournfully, mournfully stealing around — 
 
 And the sound was this, 
 As it rose and fell 
 
 O'er the broad expanse, — 
 " Farewell ! farewell ! " 
 
 We sougjit our home — once bright and fair, 
 
 No word of hope we said, 
 For Sorrow entered with us there, 
 
 With slow and silent tread ; 
 And came a voice from every room 
 Mournfully, mournfully through the gloom j 
 And the voice was this, 
 
 As it sadly foil 
 On our aching hearts, — 
 " Farewell, farewell ! " 
 
 The garden that at morn was gay, 
 
 And the sequestered bower. 
 Seemed to have wept their bloom away, 
 
 All in one little hour ; 
 Wo heard a voice upon the breeze 
 Sigli mournfully, mournfully through the trees, 
 
 And the voice was this, 
 As it rose and fell 
 
 On the balmy air, — 
 " Farewell, farewell ! " 
 
 Years, weary years have passed us o'er 
 Since that unhappy morn, 
 
 hi 
 

 182 
 
 CANADIAN WILD PLOWEllS. 
 
 m 
 
 And in our arms wo clasp once moro 
 
 With rajitiirc our first-born. 
 And tliankl'ul for our Father's care 
 Gratefully, gratefully raise the prayer, 
 That when life is o'er 
 
 Our anthems may swell 
 Where li])s breathe no more — 
 Farewell, farewell ! 
 
 NO MOTHER. 
 
 Ko mother ! well, the burning tears may flow 
 And bathe thy pillow, hapless orphan, now ; 
 
 No mother's tender voice nuiy soothe thy woe, 
 No mother's kiss is on thy aching brow. 
 
 Thou hearest footsteps passing by the door, 
 
 Oft hast thou heard thy mother's footsteps there ; 
 
 But ah ! she comes, unhappy boy, no more 
 
 To say " Good night " or hear thy evening prayer. 
 
 Weep on : there's none to wipe away thy tears. 
 There's none on earth thy mother's place to fill ; 
 
 The night seems dark, but when the morn appears 
 Darkness and gloom will be around tjiee still. 
 
 For thou hast lost what time can ne'er restore, 
 What other friends, though kind, can never be ; 
 
 She had bright visions of a better shore 
 But asked to live — it was alone for thee. 
 
 Kneel, wretched orphan, kneel beside thy bed ; 
 
 Thy voice is choked, thy sobs have louder grown ; 
 No mother's hand is lying on thy head, 
 
 .: mother's heart is lifted with thy own. 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 183 
 
 But thou canst pray, and on the Saviour's breast, 
 Wliicli fools for every grief and every care, 
 
 Pillow thy head and sweetly sink to rest, 
 A more than mother will protect thee there. 
 
 TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD. 
 
 Mother, thy loved one slumbers now 
 
 In deep, unbroken i-est ; 
 But slumbers not with smiling brow 
 
 Upon thy tender breast. 
 Oh, no I for Death v/ith cruel dart, 
 
 Unheeding anguish wild. 
 Has rudely torn thy yearning heart, 
 
 And borne away'tliy child. 
 
 Thy home is drear at break of day. 
 
 And drear at set of sun ; 
 For, lo ! the grave enwraps the clay 
 
 Of thy departed one. 
 And vainly does thy spirit sigh. 
 
 With yearnings deep and wild. 
 To clasp once more within thy arms 
 
 Thy dear, thy darling child. 
 
 Cold Death has snatched thy lovely flower ; 
 
 But, lo ! the day draws near, 
 When even Death shall lose his power, 
 
 And thy sweet child appear 
 All glorious with immortal life, 
 
 In Eden's garden fair. 
 Oh, mother, mother ! would'st thou meet 
 
 Thy dearly-loved one there ? 
 
 Oh, would'st thou join the blood-washed throng 
 On that immortal shore ? 
 
 i 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 ••^■ 
 
 // 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 ^ m 
 
 IIM IIM 
 
 111^ |||||Z2 
 
 IIM ^ 
 
 12.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.4 
 
 1.6 
 
 ^^ 
 
 <^ 
 
 ^? 
 
 ej 
 
 >r^ 
 
 /} 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^ ^ 
 
 ^^' 
 
 
 V,^. 
 
 O 
 
 / 
 
 >^ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 ^ 
 
 V 
 
 ^^ 
 
 .V 
 
 N> 
 
 ^9) 
 
 V 
 
 ^V 
 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 ^\^^- 
 
 rv 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. M580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 ''# '*' 
 
&? 
 
 
184 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEKS. 
 
 Oil, would'st thou swell the Conqueror's song 
 And greet thy child once more ? 
 
 Then turn to Him who died for thee 
 A death of woe and pain ; 
 
 And at the resurrection morn 
 Embrace thy child again ! 
 
 
 IN GOODNESS IS TRUE GREATNESS. 
 
 [The following lines were addressed to her brother on re- 
 ceiving a locket containing his daguerreotype.] 
 
 I touch the spring — ajid lo, a face 
 
 Which for these many years 
 Within my heart has had a place, 
 
 A tender place — ^a^ppears. 
 
 The large dark eyes look up to mine, 
 
 So like thyself ! — the cheek, 
 The brow, the features, all are thine : 
 
 Speak to me, brother, speak ! 
 
 And tell me of each grief and care : 
 
 For be they great or small, 
 A sister's heart would take a share — 
 
 And, if it could, take all ! 
 
 And tell me of each hopeful plan. 
 
 And how the future seems, — 
 Oh, may that future to the man 
 
 Be all the boy now dreams. 
 
 I've heard thee say thou wouldst be great, 
 
 And with the gifted shine ; 
 'T is well ; but there 's a nobler fate, 
 
 I pray it may be thire : 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 It is to be an honest man, — 
 
 To elevate thy race, 
 And like the good Samaritan 
 
 Do good in every place ; 
 
 To struggle bravely for the right, 
 Though kings defend the wrong ; 
 
 To live as in thy Maker's sight, 
 And in his strength be strong ; 
 
 To put the spotless garment on. 
 To keep it pure and white, 
 
 And when the endless day shall dawn 
 Eeceive a crown of light. 
 
 Dear brother, fame is but a breath, 
 
 So I implore for thee 
 A holy life, a happy death, 
 
 A blest eternity. 
 
 185 
 
 SIMILES. 
 
 Beneath the snow and frost of winter there are liv- 
 ing seeds which shall produce abundant harvests : so 
 beneath a cold exterior there may be a heart full of 
 high resolves and glorious impuLes, which at the 
 right season shall burst into blossom and bear pre- 
 cious fruit. 
 
 How often the sun rises in a cloudless sky, to be 
 obscured before noonday! Human life is like our 
 fickle clime: to-day all sunshine, and to-morrow 
 clouds. 
 
186 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 
 rp 
 
 t 
 
 A- 
 
 '-.}, 
 
 t%? i 
 
 The sun is the same by day and night, but the 
 earth comes betwixt his light and us: so when the 
 Sun of righteousness seems to have left our horizon 
 and we turn in vain to the right and the left to find 
 him, may it not be that the dark, dense earth has 
 come betwixt us and his life-giving beams, while He 
 remains "the same yesterday, to-day and forever"? 
 
 The thistle has a fragrant smell, and the thorn a 
 pleasant fruit. It is a disease in the shell-fish that 
 makes the pearl: so your sickness, my friend, may 
 be the means of your winning the Pearl of great price. 
 
 What plant would thrive if the sun shone forever ? 
 and what should we be if the sun of prosperity always 
 shone upon our pathway ? Along life's dusty thor- 
 oughfare I see the world, but not as I saw it once : 
 sickness and sorrow have given me another pair of 
 eyes. 
 
 Gentle breezes, balmy breezes. 
 There is vigor in your breath, 
 
 3ut ye cannot bring the roses 
 To the leaden cheeks of death ! 
 
 The soil that produces the rankest weeds would by 
 proper care and cultivation produce the richest crops : 
 so will the human heart when regenerated by grace 
 and truth. 
 
 The violet cannot become the rose, the daisy cannot 
 be the lily; and if they could all be the loveliest 
 flower, earth would lose half its beauty. Without va- 
 riety, a scene however fair within itself soon wearies 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 1&7 
 
 US. Knowest thou the moral ? Be content in thy 
 proper sphere: thou mayest be the violet or the 
 daisy, but envy not the rose and the lilyj all are 
 beautiful when in their appointed place. 
 
 At morn the shadows slant toward the west, but 
 toward the east at night : so when the sun of life de<- 
 clines the shadows stretch away toward the everlast- 
 ing hills whence the eternal beams of day shall arise. 
 
 THE CRUCIFIED OF GALILEE. 
 
 Methought I stood, at close of day, 
 Where soft the balmy breezes play. 
 And bright beneath the Eastern skies 
 The sacred hills of Canaan rise. 
 And saw him on the shameiul tree, — 
 The Crucified of Galilee ! 
 
 I heard the mocking throng deride 
 The anguish of the Crucified ; 
 I saw the brilliant sun grow dim ; 
 I heard creation shriek for him ; 
 I saw him die, and die for me, — 
 The Crucified of Galilee ! 
 
 And then I saw the veil upraised 
 From the eternal world, and gazed 
 Upon the scene in deep surprise ; 
 One form alone could fix my eyes ; 
 I knew him, yes, indeed 'twas he,— 
 The Crucified of Galilee ! 
 
 And though upon his lovely brow 
 A beam of glory rested how ; 
 
188 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWEllS. 
 
 Though angels praised his holy name ; 
 Yet still I knew he was the same 
 Who hung upon the shameful tree, — 
 The Crucitiocl of Galilee I 
 
 I knew him by his tender a'r ; 
 I knew him by the fervent prayer 
 He breathed for those for whom he died ; 
 I knew him by his wounded side ; 
 By these I knew that it was he, — 
 The Cruciiied of Galilee ! 
 
 I knew him by the loving smile 
 With which he welcomed sinners vile ; 
 I knew him, for ho jook a share 
 In all his children's griefs and care j 
 I knew him by his love for me, — 
 The Crucified of Galilee ! 
 
 The vision fadel from afar ; 
 But still 't is memory's guiding star, 
 To cheer the night and poiiii; a way 
 Unto an everlasting day, 
 When I, with unveiled eyes, shall see 
 The Crucified of Galilee ! 
 
 THE ASCENSION. 
 
 A well-known group stood on the mountain side 
 And in their midst appeared the Crucified. 
 Oft had they stood in that sequestered place, 
 Their beaming eyes fixed on their Saviour's face ; 
 But never met on Olivet's fair brow 
 With such emotions as they cherished now j 
 And never with such eager spirits hung 
 
 
 ii*- 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 189 
 
 Upon the words that fell from Jesus* tongue ; 
 
 For never had their Master's voice before 
 
 Sounded so sweet as wheu — his mission o'er,— 
 
 He gathered round him that devoted band, 
 
 To give his blessing and his last command : 
 
 " Go ye, and teach all nations in my name — 
 
 The Jew and Greek, the Lend and free, the same j 
 
 But first proclaim a Saviour's love to those 
 
 Who thirsted for his blood, and mocked his woes. 
 
 That they, believing, through his death may live, 
 
 And know their risen Saviour can forgive. 
 
 Ye shall declare salvation's waters free. 
 
 And bid all nations to the fountain flee ; 
 
 And though ye meet with perils dark and drear, 
 
 And tribulation be your portion here, — 
 
 Though persecution, with uplifted sword. 
 
 Shall call for blood, and your own blood be poured, — 
 
 Yet know that I, your Saviour and your friend. 
 
 Will be with you till life itself shall end ; 
 
 And wii;h all those who boldly shall proclaim 
 
 To a lost world salvation through my name. 
 
 In every land, in every age and clime. 
 
 Till the last trump shall sound the knell of time." 
 
 Th^ humble followers of the Nazarene 
 In silent awe gazed on the wondrous scene ; 
 Beheld their Lord in power and glory rise 
 Up the bright pathway of the parting skies ; 
 And while they strove with piercing eyes in vain 
 To catch one glimpse of that dear form again, 
 Two angels left the bright and heavenly shore, 
 And messages of joy and love they bore. 
 Oh, glorious message to that faithful band, 
 Who on the mountain's top bewildered stand I 
 Oh, glorious sound to every ransomed soul. 
 
19a 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 fi'i- 
 
 m 
 
 
 V 
 
 u 
 
 From sea to sea, from spreading pole to pole 
 
 In every age, oh, tell the tidings o'er — 
 
 " That very Jesus shall return once more ! " 
 
 Hark I angel-voices rend the vaulted sky, 
 
 In thrilling tones those shining angels cry, 
 
 " Why stand ye gazing on yon glistening dome ? 
 
 Heaven has received your risen Master home I 
 
 The time will come, when, as ye saw him rise, 
 
 He shall descend in power the parted skies." 
 
 fit' 
 
 ill! 
 
 THE HEBREW'S LAMENT. 
 
 Thou art the land of all my dreams, — 
 Thy wanderer's heart is thine, 
 
 And oft he lingers by thy streams, 
 ho]y Palestine ! 
 
 A stranger in a stranger's land 
 
 O'er hill and vale I roam ; 
 But hope forever points her hand 
 
 Towards my father's home. 
 
 They tell me that on Zion's hill 
 The Cross and Crescent shine : 
 
 But oh, my heart is with thee still, 
 Beloved Palestine. 
 
 I know that Israel's weary race 
 Are scorned on every shore. 
 
 And scarcely find a dwelling-place 
 Where they were lords before. 
 
 Yet, 'mid the darkness and the gloom, 
 
 A light begins to break 5 
 Israel, from the dreary tomb 
 
 Thy buried hopes awake, — 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 191 
 
 And lips that raise the fervent prayer, 
 " How long, Lord, how long ? '" 
 
 Shall change the wailings of despair 
 To the triumphant song. 
 
 And I may live to see the hour — 
 The hour that must be near, — 
 
 When in his royalty and power 
 Our Shiloh will appear. 
 
 Till then my prayers will rise for thee, 
 Till then my heart be thine, 
 
 land beyond the stormy sea, 
 holy Palestine. 
 
 WHEN SHALL I RECEIVE MY DIPLOMA? 
 
 For many long years I have been in the school of 
 affliction, and during that time how often I have 
 asked the questions. When will my course be com- 
 pleted ? when shall I receive my diploma ? But let 
 me first consider : Am I prepared for the grand exam- 
 ination in which angels are to be the spectators, and 
 God himself judge ? Here teachers and professors — 
 however ykilled in human wisdom, friends and rela- 
 tives — however anxious for my welfare, must step 
 aside and leave me alone before the dread tribunal I 
 In the presence of my fellow-creatures I might wear 
 the robes of hypocrisy and appear in reality what I 
 am not ; but what would this avail me in the presence 
 of Him who knows every thought even before it is 
 
192 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 fv 
 
 
 formed, and whoso searching eye can take in at a sin- 
 gle glance the past, present, and future of my history ? 
 . dreaded hour ! who can wonder that timid mor- 
 tals put it far in the distance, and even strive to shut 
 their eyes to its stern reality ? What folly 1 Wore 
 the light of revelation quenched forever, there is that 
 within every human breast which warns of a judg- 
 ment to come and of a righteous retribution. Swift 
 as the planets roll in their orbits around the sun, still 
 swifter advances that terrible scene around which the 
 hopes and fears, the joys and miseries of eternity 
 cluster. It is the gj'eat centre of attraction, not only 
 for one age or one nation, but for all who have drawn 
 the breath of life from the grand creation anthem of 
 stars and angels (Job 38 : 4-7) till stars and angels 
 again lift up their voices in concert, and swear that 
 " Time shall be no longer." Yet the life, the heart of 
 each individual there will be as closely examined as 
 if the court of Heaven were sitting for him alone, ard 
 he the only person for whom the joys of Paradise or 
 the pains of Hell were prepared by eternal Justice I 
 
 til 
 
 Whs ■ • 
 
 M 'i 
 
 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! leave me here. 
 Without a wish, without a fear,— 
 My pulse is weak and faint my breath 
 But is He not the Lord of death ? 
 And if I live, or if I die, 
 'T is all the same when He is nigh. 
 
MISCKI.LANY, 
 
 Alone witli Jesus I ye who weep, 
 And round my bed your vigils keep, 
 My love was never half so strong, 
 And yours— oh, I have proved it long, 
 But when had earthly friend the power 
 To comfort in a dying hour 1 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! oh, how sweet 
 In health to worship at his feet I 
 But sweeter far when day by day 
 We droop, and pine, and waste away, 
 lo feel his arms around us close, 
 And in his bosom find repose I 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! how secure, 
 Vile in myself, in him how pure ; 
 The tempests howl, the waters beat, 
 They harm me not in my retreat ; 
 Night deepens— 'mid its gloom and chill 
 He draws me nearer to him still. 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! what alarms 
 The infant in its mother's arms ? 
 Before me death and judgment rise,— 
 I turn my head and close mine eyes. 
 There's naught for me to fear or do, 
 I know that he will bear me through ! 
 
 Alone with Jesus ! earth grows dim,— 
 I even see my friends through him j 
 Time, space, all things below, above. 
 Reveal to me one Life, one Love, — 
 That One in whom all glories shine. 
 All beauties meet— that One is mine I 
 
 X93 
 
hi 
 
 If 
 
 194 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 THE LOST BABE. 
 
 There was a bower that love had reared 
 
 And beautified with care ; 
 One day a messenger appeared 
 
 And asked admission there. 
 
 He was not welcome to the bower, 
 
 For something in his face, 
 Where'er he went, had always power 
 
 To cloud the brightest place. 
 
 Love barred the door, and cried, " Forbear, 
 
 Thou art no bidden guest "; 
 Then gathered up her jewels rare 
 
 And hid them in her breast. 
 
 Still louder knocked he than before, 
 
 And still he was denied ; 
 Then, laughing at the well-barred door, 
 
 He threw it open wide. 
 
 " I come from Paradise above," 
 
 The messenger began : 
 " Oh, not in anger but in love 
 
 God worketh out his plan. 
 
 " Sent from the King'^ eternal throne 
 My ijiission to fulfill, 
 I ask one jewel of thine own, — 
 It is the Master's will : 
 
 " One birdling from the parent nest, 
 One lamb from out thy fold. 
 To nestle in the Saviour's breast 
 As did the babes of old. 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 195 
 
 " How safe I Her resting-place how sweet I 
 But thou wilt sadly miss 
 The busy hands, the dancing feet, 
 The prattle and the kiss. 
 
 " There comes an hour, so long foretold 
 That many deem it vain, 
 When in his arms thou shalt behold 
 That precious lamb again. 
 
 " When earth and sea at God's command 
 
 Their treasures shall restore 
 , Then thou shalt clasp this little hand. 
 
 Nor dread a parting more." 
 
 Love wept — her very bosom bled 
 
 For tjiat lost little one j 
 But Faith supported her and said, 
 
 ". The Master's will be done." 
 
 THE DAY OF WRATH. 
 
 " The great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand ?" 
 — Eev. 6 : 17. 
 
 The nations tremble, and the isles are moved ; 
 
 All cheeks are gathering paleness ; lips are dumb 
 That smiled in scorn but yesterday, or proved 
 
 The day of wrath would not for ages come ; 
 Each eye is fixed — there seems nor life nor breath 
 In that vast human sea, — ^but ah ! it is not death. 
 
 The morning broke in splendor, as it rose 
 
 Upon the fated Cities of the Plain ; 
 And men went forth refreshed from their repose, 
 
 Where duty called them, or the love of gain j 
 

 r 
 
 196 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 w 
 
 When sudden as the lightning's vivid glare 
 
 Lik*) heated furnace glowed the earth, the sea, the air. 
 
 Prom the Equator to the frozen Pole, 
 
 All nations saw, and understood " the sign "j 
 
 The seventh angel sounded ! like a scroll 
 The heavens departed, and a Form divine 
 
 And awful in its grandeur was revealed, — 
 
 The sun and moon grew pale, and earth astounded 
 reeled. 
 
 Then rose a wail of anguish and despair — 
 By men, by angels, never heard before ; 
 
 The tones of earth and hell were mingled there, 
 Henceforth to be thus mingled evermore 
 
 Beyond the reach of Mercy's loving ear. 
 
 Who wept and pleaded once — ^but will no longer hear. 
 
 But hark ! in contrast what a shout of joy 
 Goes up to heaven ; it tells of victory won 
 
 O'er sin and death, o'er all that can destroy,— 
 It tells of life eternal just begun, — 
 
 Of bliss coeval with the endless years, — 
 
 Of love that waited long for Him who now appears. 
 
 My soul consider — 't is no idle flight 
 
 Of fancy, when she pictures thus the day 
 
 When sun and planets shall withdraw their light. 
 And heaven and earth like smoke shall pass away j 
 
 God hath declared it, and our Saviour hath. 
 
 And lo, it hastens fast — ^that dreadful day of wrath. 
 
 Where wilt thou find a shelter from the storm ? 
 
 Not wealth, nor power, nor friends can succor then ; 
 How wilt thou gaze upon th^t glorious Form 
 
 That seals the doom of angels and of men ? 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 197 
 
 air. 
 
 ded 
 
 [ 
 
 How wilt thou stand before the judgment seat 
 And every idle word, and thought, and action meet ? 
 
 Lamb of God whose blood was shed for me, — 
 Redeemer, Saviour, Lover of mankind, — 
 
 Spread over me thy robeW that I in Thee 
 A slielter from that dreadful storm may find, — 
 
 And calm amid the tumult and despair 
 
 Look at the great white throne, and see my Surety 
 there I 
 
 hear. 
 
 irs. 
 
 ^ay; 
 ^th. 
 
 bhen; 
 
 THt BELIEVER'S SAFETY. 
 
 Ah, Christian, why is thy heart sad and thy brow 
 clouded ? Hast thou been gazing down into the depths 
 of thine o\7n soul, and art thou startled at what thou 
 hast there seen ? Hast thou met with evil thoughts 
 which thou wouldst gladly never have harbored, and 
 art thou despairing because of thy short-comings and 
 unworthiness ? Art thou looking to the future with 
 dread, and trembling lest in the hour of trial and 
 temptation thou wilt fall ? 
 
 Turn away thine eyes from the pollution of thine 
 own sinful heart, and gaze upon One who has become 
 a perfect sin-offering for thee. True, thou art frail 
 and unworthy, but the Lamb that was slain is worthyy 
 and his perfection is enough for thee ; his righteous- 
 ness alone recommends thee to the Father. Dost 
 thou trust in him with all thy heart ? Dost thou 
 hope for eternal life because he died ? Then thou 
 art safe. " The eternal God is thy refuge, and under- 
 
198 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 • It 
 
 m 
 
 N 
 
 neath thee are the everlasting arms." The storms 
 may howl, and tempests may gather around thee ; the 
 billows may rage, but they only lash the Rock upon 
 which thou standest. "Though the earth be re- 
 moved, and the mountains be cast into the midst of 
 the sea," yet thou art safe, for he who made the heav- 
 ens and the earth is thy Father. He who command- 
 eth the sun, and it riseth not, and sealeth up the 
 stars J "who alone spreadeth out the heavens and 
 treadeth upon the waves of the sea," is thy nearest 
 and dearest friend. The same voice which said, "Let 
 there be light, and there was light;" which com- 
 manded the raging waters, "Hitherto shalt thou come, 
 but no farther: and here shall thy proud waves be 
 stayed," is still whispering in thine ear, " Fear thee 
 not, for I am with thee j be not dismayed, for I am 
 thy God." Yes, thou art safe I thou art trusting in 
 the mighty One of Israel, and thou shalt never be con- 
 founded. 
 
 Thou hast been looking away into the regions of 
 the blessed; thou hast beheld with an eye of faith 
 the things which God has prepared for those that love 
 him, and amid the ineffable glory of that beautiful 
 world thou hast heard the voices of the redeemed 
 from the earth, saying : " Salvation to our God which 
 sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb," until 
 thou hast longed to join with them in the song of re- 
 demption, singing praises forever and eve ^ to him who 
 has ransomed thee with his own precious blood. 
 Then a cloud has gathered over thee, thy sinfulness 
 
MISCELLANY. 
 
 199 
 
 has risen like a mountain, and thou hast sighed in thy 
 spirit, " Oh, that I were sure of a part with them ; 
 oh, that I was safe as they I " and thou art as safe 
 this moment with thy feet upon the Rock of Ages, as 
 if thou didst walk the golden streets of the !N"ew Je- 
 rusalem, or bow with the angelic hosts around the 
 dazzling throne of thy Creator. Thou art safe, for 
 thy "life is hid with Christ in God"; and could'st 
 thou ask for a surer hiding-place I Thou hast entered 
 into an everlasting covenant with the King of kings, 
 and while thou dost cling to his side shall it ever be 
 broken ? Thou hast entrusted thy soul into his 
 hands, and is he not able to " keep that which thou 
 hast committed unto him?" Thine enemies are 
 many and powerful, but what are they compared to 
 the living God ? In the hour of temptation " he will 
 never leave thee nor forsake thee "; when thy foes 
 surround thee on every side, and the darkness of mid- 
 night gathers over thy soul, the Almighty arm shall 
 lift up a standard, and thou shalt safely repose " un- 
 der the shadow of his wings." "The Lord is thy 
 rock, and thy fortress, angL thy deliverer." "The 
 Lord is thy light and thy salvation ; whom shalt thou 
 fear ? The Lord is the strength of thy life, of whom 
 shalt thou be afraid ? " 
 
 Then look up. Christian I 'tis no time for despond- 
 ing. The glittering spires of the Eternal City are 
 already heaving in sight ; perchance another storm, 
 another beating against the fragile bark, and thou 
 art there I Already the music of that glorious land 
 
t 
 I 
 
 ft \ 
 If; ,'■<«' 
 
 .,?. 
 
 i' 
 
 200 
 
 CANADIAN WILD FLOWERS. 
 
 steals softly over the roaring billows, and reminds 
 thee thou art nearing the peaceful shore. Already 
 the dark cloud which gathers above thy head is 
 tinged with the beams of immortal glory, and away 
 in the distance thoii canst behold the first faint glim- 
 merings of the Morning Star. Joy for thee, wan- 
 derer 1 the shadows of the night are passing away, 
 and the unclouded morning comes on apace I 
 
 Yes, thou art safe I lift up thine eyes, 
 
 And calm thy anxious fears ; 
 The Sun of glory gilds the skies, 
 
 And Christ thy life appears. 
 
linds 
 eady 
 id is 
 iway 
 ?lim- 
 wan- 
 way,