IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ >i 1.0 I.I UilM |25 u US 14^0 IE 1 1-25 III ..4 ,,.6 .4 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation ^ •ss v <^ 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIR.N.Y. MSM (716)172-4303 ^ 4^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/iCIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Instituta for Historical Microreproductions / institut Canadian da microraproductions historiquas • Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibllographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which mey 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 4tA possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la methods normale de filmage sont indiquis ci-dessous. L_ Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur ^__ Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur 1 Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagto Pages damaged/ Pages endommagtes 1 Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaur^ et/ou pellicuite ^_ Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaurtes et/ou pellicultes Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque y Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages dAcolortes, tachettes ou piquAes Coloured maps/ Cartes gtographiques en couleur ^~" Pages detached/ Pages d^tachies Coloured inic (i.e. other than blue or blacic)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) H Showthrough/ Transparence Jh to Tl pc of fil Oi b« th sk ot fir si< or r~n Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ n n n Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ RellA avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La re liure serr^e peut causer de i'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge IntArieure 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 ajouttes lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela Atait possible, ces pages n'ont pas it4 filmtes. Additional comments:/ Commentaires supplAmentaires: I I Quality of print varies/ QuaiitA inAgale de I'impresslon Includes supplementary material/ Comprend du materiel suppMmentaire Only edition available/ Seule Mitlon disponible D Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been ref limed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont tt^ fiimAes A nouveau de fa^on A obtenir la meiileure image possible. This item is filmed at the reduction i'atio checked below/ Ce document est fiimA au taux de reduction indiqu* ci-dessous. sh Tl wl M dil en bi ri( rei mi 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X ^ 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X aire I details |ues du t modifier iger une ■ fiimage 1/ uAes The copy filmed here hea been reproduced thanica to the generoaity of: Hamihon Public Library The imagea appeering here are the beat quality poaaible eonaidering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in Iceeping with the filming contract apecificationa. Original coplea in printed paper covera are filmed beginning with the front cover end ending on the leat page with a printed or llluatrated imprea- aion, or the beck cover when appropriate. All other original coplea are filmed beginning on the firat page with a printed or llluatrated impree- aion, and ending on the laat page with a printed or llluatrated impreaaion. The laat recorded freme on each microfiche ahall contain the symbol — 4*> (meening "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol ▼ (meening "END"), whichever appliea. L'exempiaire filmt fut reproduit grflce i la gAnAroait* de: Hamihon Public Library Lea images suivantes ont Mt raproduites avac la plus grand soin, compte tanu da la condition at de ie nettet* de l'exempiaire film*, at an conformity avac lea conditions du contrat de fiimage. Lea exempleirea originaux dont la couvartura an papier eat ImprimAe sent filmte en commandant par la premier plat at an terminant soit par la dernlAre pege qui comporte una amprainta d'impreaaion ou d'illustration. soit par Ie second plot, selon Ie ces. Tous les autras axamplaires origineux sent filmte Bn commandant par la premlAre page qui comporte une amprainte d'impreaaion ou d'illuatration at an terminant par la darniAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un dea symbolea suivanta apparaltra sur la darni^re image de cheque microfiche, salon la caa: la symbola — »> signifie "A SUIVRE", Ie symbols V signifie "FIN". lire IMapa. platee, cherta, etc., mey be filmed at different reduction retioa. Thoae too large to be entirely included in one expoaure ere filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, aa many framea aa required. The following diegrama illuatrate the method: Lea cartea, planchea, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre filmto A dea taux de reduction diffirants. Lorsque Ie document est trop grand pour Atra reproduit en un seul clichA, il est film* A partir de I'anpici supArieur gauche, de gauche h droita. at de haut en baa. en prenant la nombra d'images nAcessaira. Las diagrammes suivants llluatrant la mAthoda. by errata led to int me pelure, a^on A 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 32X WW • I ' ■ -.«;■' .^ fV^' GABRIEL WEST, ■ ■ , '^. V AND OTHER POEMS. BY MARGARET GILL CURRIE. j» ^1 FREDERICTON, N. B.: H. A. CROPLEY, PRINTER AND PUBLISHER. 1866. ^ ^ ^1? "WP- mmi . njiB i iiiU 'li W i iKMIIl.JlLi I WHiL«/ She prayed with eager lips for anguish brief: And yet her heart lived in its agony Till the red sun rose from behind the sea. And then she sunk in soft and peaceful rest, Her dead babe nestled to her marble breast. They laid them without prayer or funeral song Beneath the surging waves to slumber long, 'TiU the deep sea shall yield its treasured dead, OABRIBL TTBSTi Ifl And eai-th and sky, like burning scroll, be fled. Yet Gabriers frame, so full of warmth and power^ Triumphed o'er cold and want for many an hour. The love of life with every mortal bom, Lived in his tortured breast that dreary mom. And where the broad sea meets the arching sky^ Still strained his sight a vessel to descry ; But eye of mortal, howe'er clear or bright, Gould naught discern but the pure, azure lights The hours rolled on, his eagle eye grew tired^ And hope, deferred so long, at length expired. Weary with watching and incessant ptrife To keep alive the flickering flame of life. And spent with hunger, now he bent his thought To meet his last grim foe as christian soldier oughts A deadly stupor o'er his spirit came, A trembling weakness seized upon his frame ; He saw, with hopeless, listless eye, the sun Towards the western ocean hasting down. A rolling wave to his dull vision brought His dead babe's form, its snowy garments wrouglit By Margaret's loving hands : he smiled with joy To think how soon he'd greet his wife and boy, An4 then before his mind in long array Passed all his life from boyhood's early day ; His decent home in Pennsylvania's land ; The kindly love of all the household band; The schoolhouse, old and gray with mossy roof, That stood 'mid trees from the high road aloof; 16 GABHIEL 'W^ST. i The dame austere, with cap and apron blue, And voice severe, but kindly heart and true ; The brook th)it, swollen by spring or autumn rain, Rushed, roaring, past the quiet, chaste domain, Near which oft-uttered warnings made him know It was a dire and deadly sin to go ; The white church where they met to pray and praise In the sweet light of those old Sabbath days ; The pastor's reverend form, the snowy hair Of the old clerk — the garb he used to wear; The hillside graveyard, where, 'neath waving grass, Slumbered the dust that once his mother was. He had no memory of her living face, ? Yet oft his spirit yearned for her embrace ; His opening manhood, the deep, thrilling bliss That stirred his soul at Margaret's first, pure kiss ; The dreams that filled his ardent, hopeful mind Of joys enduring, humble, yet refined ; The troublous times that came, the looks estranged Of all his household, while he stood unchanged To Britain's cause ; the searching thoughts of heart, Ere yet he vowed to bear a soldier's part; Then the wild scene of each remembered fight . Arose like ghastly visions of the night : And then the thought of all the hope and joy That filled his soul at sight of his first boy ; And Margaret's ceaseless love, her tender care, Her pure devotion; then ho longed to sharo ' GABRIEL WEST. Her grave beneath the troubled waves far down, /** Where storm and tempest^s shock are all unknown ► He saw a sail ; but, dreamy, as he lay, ' He thought not the need to tempt its stay ; But others of his regiment, saved before, By the same ship, explored the waters o'er, And, at a distance, deemed the floating speck On the wide sea, a portion of the wreck. And gladly to their help and succour came^ They reached them ; called aloud on Gabriel's name,. And strove to rouse his apathetic thought ; r*^ . He cared not, knew not of the help they brought The sole one, he, upon that piece who bore • , The mark of office from the well-faught war; For, of the thirty wha its succour gained, r^ But ten men, spent and faint, in life remained. Then, in their kindly arms, the sailors bold To their snug vessel bore the sufferers cold ; And with the simple cordials she contained, Eevived and fostered what of life remained ; And Gabriel woke to life to feel the smart : Of a sad, desolated, blighted heart — v A spirit smitten by affliction's rod, ^^ . Withered like grass of the diy summer's sod. He, with the rest whom Heaven vouchsafed to save,. And kindly destined for a later grave, Stricken and lonely, reached the sheltering port, That first with ardent, hopeful hearts they souglit. And yet a pleasant heritage he gained 2 -':'**. , ,...,, .m.-,, 18 GABBICL "VTEST. From that good king whose honor he maintained ; For his fair favored lot was cast upon That prince of Brunswick's streams, the broad St. John. He toiled incessant when the wintry storm Howled through the forest ; and when breezes warm And genial sun bade the bright streamlets flow Free from the ice, and swollen with melted snow, And 'neath the blistering sun of August's sky, And when the harvest moon was full on high. The swamps that scarce the wild cat's step had borne Ere long waved green with grass or gold with corn ; The stany midnight saw his blazing fires On some lone hill, the greenwood's funeral pyres. He wrought to smiling field the forest glade. Entrapped the bear that towards its border strayed ; Hunted the red deer, moose, and cariboo ; The leaping salmon from the waters drew ; Quarried the stone for fence and orchard wall, And uncouth, lonely, lowering, dismal hall, As if he would to his abode impart Semblance of sorrow that oppressed Ms heart y For, stern and silent, in his life-long grief. He seemed to all as his red neighbor chief. And Heaven kindly smiled upon liis toil ; His home grew rich with field and forest spoil j And justly was his name revered abroad As one who well had served his king and Godr •'t i« IHII M I Wi i |« i l" i i il W l l li WK l H li BaiBed high the shout or scoff. sVening scenet. 3a No motion to the trees - The slumbering breezes gave, Nor moved the tall, wliite-winged sloops Upon the shining wave. As much at rest they seemed As if their anchor's bow Touched where the golddn pebbles gleamed So far their keels below. The bushman's jocund song, Loud laugh, and ribald jest Caiiae clear upon the listening ear- Across the water's breast. The soldiers, two and two, In garb of scarlet dye. Went roaming by the river blue, - Beneath the willows high.- The youthful subalterns And captains, gay and brave, Rowed with strong arm their shallops light Over the gliding wave, With freight of ladies bright. Or on the green banks strayed ; Or passed the scene like lightning's flash, ^ On prancing steeds conveyed.- : .3-' S4 <^^ EVENING SCENE. Perchance some warlike man Of haughty English hirth, Seemed with an eye of scorn to scan The scene, as little worth. And wealthy citizens In splendid coaches rolled, The bosses of their equipage Flashing like burnished gold. And many a mother blest, And many a happy wife, And many a damsel pale, possessed ' Of naught tliat gladdens life. And polished city youths, : And laughing maidens fair, And many a student, clerk, and page Wandered that evening there. A : . ^fflS WEZAilD >rREE» \ )"^ k .***.. .... Qi^^-W - H» ' ^-^ ;... I , . THE WIZARD TREE. With moss-clad roof, and dark, There towered a mansion grey ; Around it there was many a mark Of grandeur and decay. There the possessor stands, Grown prematurely old ; Plebeians all possess his lands 'Arid misers grasp his goM. For many a weary year Adversity's keen blast Over his broad, paternal fields 'In howling gusts h€td passed. His youth's sweet, gentle wife, The children of his love. Slumbered afar from pain and strife ^Beneath the churchyard grove. 38 THE WIZARD TRBBv ■* All left him to possess To which his spirit clung l^n the same passionate tenderness "With whiqh h^ lpye4 when young,. "Was a tall, shadowy pine That through the summer long, And all the snowy, winter time Murmured a dreamy song. It cast a gloomy shade , On windows moulded o'er, And parian statues, damp, decayed^. Beside the grass-grown door. Full well he Ipved- the shade, To him the song was sweet. And oft beneath the boughs he strayed? With listless, i^le feet. ^^ ^ K ' ^ ^ One eve he ceased to roam As all gi'ew d^rk and wild. And sought his dank apd dreary home "Where no sweet firelight smiled. ■■« k- .'. f : . - A dame in sable garb. With features sharp and thin. Fastened without a wretched ba](,'bj And slowly tottered in^. THE WIZARD TREE. 39 She spake in hoarse, low tone, '* Though well thou lovest that tree. It holds the sprite hath cursed thy home With long adversity. *' I bear a woodman's axe. The edge hath never been In aught but the white, forest pine, 'Tis strong, and smooth, and keen.. *' Now, ope the portal wide. And come where I shall lead." He bowed, and followed by her side^ With trembling, reeling tread. He saw the steeFs pale gleam In the dim, evening air. Then raised a wild and piercing screa^aa? Of horror and despair. For to his inmost soul ' He felt each heavy blow That came redoubled, stroke on stroke,. Till the proud pine lay low. She stretched one skinny hand So yellow, thin, and dry. It glittered like a fairy wand Beneath, the starlit sky.. ^ - - ■» 40 THE "WIZARD TRE^. She pointed to a spot Where oft he longed to stray, But some strange power, he knew not >vhat, Forced him another way. '^ There all the gold and gear That e'er you called your own You safe shall find, when one moreyo^r Over your head hath flown. '^ But work as I advise, YouMl gain full many an hour; You ne'er can gain the precious prize By your unaided power. '^ Break two white, yearling colts To plough the verdant ground, And harrow with two bullocks x^efi In circles, round aud round. , y . " And chant the same weird tune, With words that I shall say. That the pine sung in summ^' nopiJ And frozen, winter day/' ^ ^ ■ ' , i- ■' He did her will in truth, 3^; ^ ^ For health and vigor ._canfUB, And e'er one year, the strength of youth Renewed liis stalwart frame . THE WIZARD TREE. ^1 'He found the treasures hid And dragged them forth to day, Then as tlie witch-like dame had bid, lie knelt liim down to pray. He rose, and found a scroll In a gold, jewelle:d case, Traced by the pine tree's evil soul To a black fairy, basq. Jt bade the elf to lure. While he was far abroad, Ilis gentle wife and children pur« To her o>vn wild abode. : She kept him long away AVith adverse winds and storms, And in their beds i)laced lumps of clay Fashioned like their fair forms. And he returned to find His hearthstone lone and cold ; The clay was laid with funeral rites Beneath the churchyard mould. But now the spell was o'er ! In costly robes bedight, His wife and children sought his doQj: On that glad, festive night. »^ FORSAKEN: A TALE. FORSAKEN: A TALE: Her eye was wild, her brow was reel, Her cheek was ashy pale, ^' Just thirty miles to day," she said,' '' I've walked o'er hill and dale." Before her stood as fair a maid As eye hath ever seen. In all the grace of womanhood, Though scarcely seventeen. She said, '^ Fear not; though wild my eye^ Beneath its glance you quail : Come sit beside me, child, and I . ^ Will tell you all my tale. ''My father was an aged man • And I his only child ; Our little cousin with us dwelt — A thoughtless thing; and wild* - 46 forsaken: ''They used to tell me I was fait As is the rising mom ; ' She was a silly, flippant thing, One whom I scorned to scorn. ^* I learned to love your father then, Nor did I lov« for naught. For every featnre of his face Was eloquent with thought. ^' She counseHed nle, and more than scorn Flashed on her from my eyes ; , Yes, Anna cofinseUed me to fawn, To catch the brilliant prize. . *''He ne^er would wed a haughty dame' She said she knew it well; Cared I for him, cared I for aught On earth, that I would tell? *'No I if he wished that I should prove His own, forever true. Then let him learn to win my love And pay me honor due. '' He spake no tiresome words of lov6 "With flatteries beside. But with a softened dignity He claimed mc for his bride*. A HAVE. 4? *• I analyzed my every thought, My passions, cold and few, And though my mind was stoical My heart had feeling too. *' My love was like yon distant star, It knew no warmth or chill, Just as a heart, by nature cold Can love one colder still. *^ I left awhile my native land And sought a distant shore, hailed again her mountains grand iVhen winter's reign was o'er. T- *^ The breezes kissed the opening flower And the broad, sparkling main. There moved from out my father's door A stately, bridal train* '^ They knew not that I was so near And watched them all the while, I saw the bridegroom as he passed And wore a hollow smile. *' For Anna, with her lesser charms Insidiously stole So serpent-like, as to deceive Even his noble souL . -^i . 4B FORSAKEN. <^ The Muses came not as of yore, Nor sought I for ^ theme ; ' , The life that I had lived before Seemed one fond, blasted dream. '^ But Anna left your father's halls. Forgot the child she bore, . - And with another, base as she, Sought a far distant shore. , '' It needed not this latest grief To break his spirit down, And when again I saw his face I could not wear a frown.- *^ He cast one look of hopeless grief, Then atmy feet he lay, ? But while my pages sought relief Ilis soul had imssed away. ^ ^•^Fair girl, long years have passed since then, And beauty's reign is o'er. And plenteous wealth that once was mine Is gone forever more. _. , '^ But memory of the only love - That e'er my sad heart knew. Shall live deep cherished in its depths - Life's lonely journey through." MONEY DIGGEBS. THE MONEY DIGGERS. IThet^re thrice-told tales in Brunswick's land) Those of the pirate {jold concealed In river, hillside J bank of sand, In burnt-wood forest, tarn, and field. Those who have toiled in snow and frost That thickens her keen, winter air, Their hope of wealth by labor lost. While yet their youth forbids dcspair> Listen with greedy, longing ears, To talcs grey-bearded woodmen tell, Of treasures hidden for countless years, That he may claim who breaks the spells - \VTien shone the thirteen western stars y In the glory of Britain's brow, ' 1^ When of axe our forest bore no scars, Nor oiir fertile soil of the plough ; 52 THE MONET DIGGEKS» When the prow of Spaniard and of Frank Furrowed tlie west Atlantic main, And inanv a time the salt waves drank The red blood of the pirate slain ; , The rovcr> fierce, with trea^^ures vast — Brazilian diamonds, tropic gold — , Sought hiding place in this lone waste For their accursed wealth untold. And those who tell the thrilling tales By forest camp-fire blazing bright, At which the busli man's bronzed cheek pales^. Though his arm be strong and spirit lights Declare — but how they do not tell The tale of mystery was revealed — One saved at sea, as league as with hell, Was slain above the wealth concealed* * Or if by chance the victim died Ere chosen hiding-place was found, Some red man of the forest wide Sufficed with blood to charm the ground. Oft-times the rovers came again, _ , And raised to light their treasures vast,. With other names across the main To fair i£uropia's land they passed^ ' tHE MONET DIGGERS. And built light-gilded palaces On Spain or France or Britain's shore ; But ghosts of wrecks and bloody seas Haiintc i their memoiies evermore. And many, so traditions say, Ne'er found New Brunswick's wilds again. But sank to the deep sea a prey, Or were by hands of justice slain« There still their ill-got booty lies. But bound with such a magic chain No digger e'er triumphant cries, " 'T has been my lot the prize to gain! '' But some do rise to sudden wealth, Perplexing busy meddlers sore^ Who cry, ** By magic, chance, or steal tli, They sure have found some hidden store.*' Their hearts aflame with thirst for gold. Their frames with toil and hardship worn, Oft from the liour of midnight tolled, They dig till the grey light of morn. Most oft they seek the charmed lands In summer or in autumn nights, Their rods and shovels in their hands, And thick tin lanterns for their lights; i/ 53 54 THE MONET DIGGERS. And they shed blood of some guiltless things And sprinkle it with dirge-like song In many a cross and arc and ring To break the charm that's held so long. The firefly's lamp, the beetle's drone, v The whisper of the southern winds, Through the dim sky of midnight lone Cast solemn shades on gayest minds ; And through their blood creep curdling chills As their new shovels break the ground^ And a vague, nameless horror fills Their hearts and all the air around. 'ill i Now the wierd superstition, nurst In their dark minds from infancy, Rises in might, and oft at first With winged steps they homeward flee^ And tell of tramping footsteps heard In grassy meadows close behind, The dead hush of the midnight stirred By ghostly shrieks upon the wind; And mighty hounds, their bristling hair Tipt with red flame and brimstone whitoy Keep guard above the treasures there, And howl and bay the UvHong uigWj THE MONET DIGGERS. 66 And headless men and maidens drest In robes all stained with earth and gore» Gleam with a radiance self-expressed. And glide the lonely meadows o'er. And giant forms as pine-trees tall, Out-stretching arms as iron strong. With shining sword and pondrous mall btride o'er the quaking earth along. Or if so well they know their art, As first to banish fiend and ghost, The treasures, e'en when found, depart, And in the depths of earth are lost. 8ome veterans confidently tell They felt their spade clink on the lid. Then myiiad fathoms down it fell. And from their sight fore'er was hid. Yet still they hope and fondly dream To learn the charmed words to speak That cause to well like bubbling stream From out the earth the gold they seek. LADY KATE, THE FAIRY QUEEN. -■?■' f L. LADY KATE, THE FAIRY QUEEN. Keen and stinging was the air, All without the dwelling fair Of a lovely fairy queen. Her husband and little ones, . All her daughters and her sons, By the glowing light are seen. And now by the taper's light She taketh her pen to write, For a poetess is she. But far o'er wastes of snow Jler thoughts to a mansion go : " We'll tbllow their path to see. There a father had one child, But another roving wild He sought, and both were his pride ; Both those maidens so fair "Were his hope, joy, and care. When sudden the father died. 60 LADT KATE, THE FAIRY QUEEN. Proud Cybella raised her head, She said, " Now my fatlier's dead, Sure his millions all are mine; So thou pert, low-born Maud, Thou may'st roam at large abroad. Or tend my sheep and my kine.'' Silent, wondering, fair Maud gazed, So sorely was she amazed. For she could not guess the cause. " Surely Cybcll.Vs mad -' She whispered low and sad, Then she drove her from her doors. Fair Maud hath spotless brow. As smooth and white I trow As the snow that clothes the fields ; But brethren she hath none. And her gallant lover's gone — The sword and the spear he wields. There she stands, no arm to save, None to snatch her from the grave A poor and unfriended thing. Lady Kate the fairy queen Looked o'er all the secret scene — It was through a magic ring. LADY KATEy THE FAIRY QUEEN. She said, " Tis duty now That I sliould go, I ti-ow, Thou my Lanoeiot doth know ; " She her pleasant home deserts, And her shinhig velvet skirts Sweep over the crusted snow. And now her elfin steed Being prepared with speed, She soon is in her sleigh ; And her ermine-lined gown Is drawn closely around. As the blast howls o'er the way. Scarce half an hour had flown When she found Maud all alone, Shivering on a steep bank's edge ; She whispei'ed in her ear, '* Fair ladv be of cheer. And enter my cushioned sledge • 61 '^ For there is a lawful will, And though Cybella still Shall heir the mansion old^ A pleasant sylvan cot Is mentioned as thy lot, With flocks and herds and gold. 62 LAt>Y KATE, T«E FAIRY QUEEK. <* And take a friend's advice, Beware of avarice, And scorn not poor Cybell ; Joy will to thee return, Thou soon shult cease to mourn, But her sorrows none can telL^' Cybell in very truth Lived to see while yet in youth The downfall of her pride ; Although she wedded one, A moiiarch's only son, He drove her from his side* She left her splendid home, And sought the kindly dome Where dwelt fair Lady Maud, For with conqueror's Waving plume Had her gallant lover come. Though so long he roamed abroad n, -«»..■; i MISCELLANEOUB THE VINE "Yet I planted thee a noble vine, wholly a right seed; how, then, art thou turned into the degenerate plant of a strange vine unto me? " — /er. 2, 21. "Where the harvest hills are whitest, And the pleasant waters flow ; Where the laborer's toil is mightiest, I was planted there to grow. But I shamefully requited All my planter's tender care ; Scattered grapes were found and blighted When he sought for clusters fair. For the forest's shade was lovely, And a fair but poisonous vine Spread its broad green leaves above me, Twined its very roots with mine. 6 66 THE VINE. >■}',. Once my leaves were broad and fragrant; But they brown and wasted grew, For I chose the waters stagnant, Mixed with drops of poisonous dew. In the forest's deep recesses . Glittering serpents charmed the eye, Flowers unnumbered gemmed the mosses, Eadiant rainbows spanned the sky. But the serpents' sting was mortal, And the flowers breathed death and woe ; In the cloud of rainbow portal. Thunders rumbled long and low- '^ Voices from the forest^s edg-es Said ** The night shall quickly come, None may work to build thy hedges, Or to train thee towards thy home.'^ - - , >, Light shone then on all my dangers, That their fulness I might know ; ^ But I said, " I've loved these strangers, After them I still will go." Day's broad light with twilight blended, In my heart I almost said, ** Sure the harvest must be ended, And the summer day is fled." THE VINE. 67 And methought I heard a whisper 'Mid the lonely branches say, ** That is joined with poisonous fraitage, 'Mid its idols let it stay.'' ■■» But a form more fair and lovely Than the fairest sons of men, Stooped to ope the boughs above me, And to train me home again. I forgot my vows fulfilling That I would return no more, For he made me fully willing In the moment of his power. That on which I once was resting Now was all asunder torn, 80 I turned, and simply tinisting, Clung to my deliverer's form. y By the living streams ho led me Through the pastures green and fair ; Sun to warm and cloud to shade me, May I dwell forever there. k ■•-■--■'. )■■ (-- WHAT SHALL BE. WHAT SHALL BE* f i- <• Through forest aisles all deeply hushed Shall sound the wild-birds' joyous strain, And dawn in golden floods shall burst O'er waving woods and glittering fane^ The streamlets o'er the mossy stones Leap onward mui*muring in their glee, And the blue river proudly roll Its rushing waters to the sea. Mortals shall waken on that morn Th' appointed race of life to run, With self-reliant hearts as strong, And ardent as were once our own. m tr-- And on the hillside's gentle slope, "Where the tall, dewy grasses wave In fresh winds breathing life and hope. We shall be slumbering in the grave. Our lives, like a wild, windy night, Passed by with naught their flight to mark ; Few were the stars, and strangely bright, And all the clouds were wondrous dark. WHAT SHALL BE, 69 Or like some thrilling legend told, So swiftly passed our lives away ; Our ardent, eager, restless souls — Our fervent spirits — where are they? If wearied with the race of life, We found our hearts and spirits fail, How did we bear the mortal strife With that dread horseman, stern and pale ? If wearied in a peaceful land — A land in which our hearts confide — What did we 'mid the swelling waves Of Jordan's deep and rushing tide? How did we face our life-long sins? How did we bear the Judge's gaze? Who is sufficient for these things? O for the strength of Jesus' grace ! 70 life's WIKTRY MOIWnNG. LIFERS WINTRY MORNING The wintry sun sheds its golden light On the glittering, crusted snow ; And the sky is blue and coldly bright^ As it was long years ago. And under the weight of the glassy drift That answers the smile of morn^ The lonely earth Kes comfortless, And desolate and 'lorn. Thus my heart is bowed wuth a heavy pain, 'Tis blighted, and crushed, and sore ; It can never welcome the light again,. Nor joy in the sunshine morf>. ' y,-\i r And my spirit cities out with pleadings wil^i- Xnd yearnings that will not rest, To sleep like a quiet, weaned child, On earth's mateirnal breast. I> The damp cold clods of the lowly vale Would be sweet to my weary head. And none mifht teU the mournful tale In liistorv of the dead* THE GLORIOUS CITY. My name be 'msed from 'neath the skies, And the memory of that morn, When 'twas said in tones of joyfuhiess, A human cliild is born. 71 THE GLORIOUS CITY. ** Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God/' Ps, 87, 3. Gtx)rious things of thee are spoken, City of the Lord most high; Tliere, where opes thy shining poii:al, Far beyond this nether sky, Angel choirs their harps are tuning To the praises of thy king ; ,; Amaranthine bowers are blooming . Jn thy everlasting sjiring. ■ :.«r ^ee thy sapphire pavements glisten In tlie beams of heavenly light ; From thy temple floods of glory Burst and dazzle angels' sight. Grant me, Lord, some place before thee, When these earthly toils are o'er, In the city of thy glory There to praise thee evermore. 72 THE STOBH KIKG. THE STORM KING. Wi I USED to hear long time ago That there dwelt in ocean cave, A storm king both bold and mighty — A warrior fierce and brave. His food was the flesh of princes, And liis drink was monarchs' blood ; Afar in cave of ocean dark This storm king's castle stood. 'Twas said that one summer even, As the mermaids danced around And the storm king in his castle Was sunken in sleep profound, — 'Twas said on that summer even That there marched a fairy band ; Each had a glittering golden crown, And each one a magic wand. m They entered the storm king's castle They stormed all its lordly halls, And burned with a fire of magic The orold and ivory walls. THE STORM KING. 73 They roused the king from his slumbers, Then plunged him into the deep, While around the ruined castle The salt waters seemed to weep. And then from out the ocean old They brought a glorious spoil, And danced that night on pale moonlight, And sing of their finished toil. But as they were dancing, behold The waters opened beneath, And the storm king appeared in might, Whom they thought had slept in death. He stretched his hand in the ocean, And rebuilt the castle old; He made the walls of ivory. And the canopy of gold. And he made the gates of silver, The foundations were of brass ; He laid on them a magic si)ell. That no fairy e'er might pass. And then towards the dancing fairies He stretched his powerful hand, And banished them far from his sight Away to the solid land. 7i MY father's friend. MY FATHER'S FEIEND. There was one I knew, and loved him well, My father's most honored friend ; And with joyous tlioughts of liim do all Mv cliildhood's memories blend. II Ills every feature volumes spoke Of pure, earnest thought and high ; What woiids of light and love awoke In his dark and x>icrcing eye ! Ills brow like the moon its crescent showed 'Mid his night of raven hair ; llow tlie light of genius burned and glowed How its si)irit sparkled there I From torrid unto frozen seas 'Twas my lot for years to roam ; My friends the wave and freshning breeze. And the rolling ship my home. li I said, ^^ I'll give my rovings o'er, I will bid my wanderings end ; '' I sought again my native shore, And my childhood's early friend. MY FATHEll'S FRIEND. 75 On his marble brow was the blight, On his locks the frost of years ; And his eyes, once prai&ed for their light, Were tarnished by age and tears. But his heart! ah, theft^e was the change! 'Twas withered and cold and dead; His voice seemed hollow, hoarse, and strange — Its volume and warmth had fled. I spoke of the past — of our friends — My father, v/ho loved him well ; A hope through Ch 'st, when life's toil ends, In his glorious rest to dwell. *^ Yes ! your father, an honest man, He's gone to that rest on high;" Then a smile o'er his features ran, And lighted his aged eye. More I said, but he answered not^ Noi* heeded my presence more ; All blank seemed memory, all forgot^ Both the friends and scenes of yore. And I sighed as I sought my liome, Whence had vanished light and song; Aye, I wept at its threshold lone, (jJrass-grown and untrodden long* ^:5 ^'4 '' IP. '6 PAST AND PRESENT. ^*And must this be," my spirit said — ^^ Must from out the brightest eye, The soul depart, and pure thought fade From the forehead calm and high. "^ The memory of our former life, And the hope of joys to come. Grow so dim and be 'rased awav Ere our life's short day is done ? " f. PAST AND PRESENT. No memories thronar mv brain Of park or stately hall. With men and maids a menial train To wait th' imperious call ; Wi H: Or splendid garden ground, Bright with exotics rare. Where snowy marble busts abound, And fountains cool the air ; Or shining equipage, A carriage velvet lined. With liveried coachmen, cringing page, And footman brisk beliind. PAST AND PRESENT. Yet recollections dear Of youth and childhood's time Oft rise nay spirit's gloom to cheer, Now in my saddened prime. In simple garb and strong I robed my youthful form, Nor feared the thunder rumbling long. Nor raging winter storm. Upon the wind-swept hill. And through the valleys sweet, I trod with glad, unfettered will, And joyous, bounding feet. Ah ! little did I dream 'Twould be my portion hard To crave with feigned complacence mean A smile or favoring word. 77 A rough hand stretched to guide And order all my path. With loathing feet to walk beside In fear and helpless wrath. 78 THE WANDERER, THE WANDERER. The leaves were brown, and gold, and red; The blast as it hurried by, Seemed to wliisper mysteries dread To the dark and troubled sky. %'■ There stood a maiden fair as dawn, In a snow-white mantle clad ; The drapery was closer drawn, As the winds howled wild and sad. .t And down her cheek there coursed a tear. It seemed that sik must grieve, But her beauty was all too fair For a child of fallen Eve. Angels watched where the dying lay Till the spirit took its flight. Then to heaven they urged their way Through the dark and stormy night. '1. V' They paused awhile to speak to her, With sweet, soothing words and kind And she told them how wondrous fair Was the land she left behind. THE WANDEREK. 79 Her home was in the Milky "Way, Where earth was a distant star. And when had sunk the light of day, It was seen through ether far. It chanced one eve in pensive mood She was wandering alone, A fearful form before her stood, There was help or succour none. ^'Thou see'st yon planet far away,'' He spake in fearful tone ; ** 'Tis earth, there naught but wild dismay, Death, terror, and gloom are known."' I seemed as in a 'wild'red dream. Till I woke where now I stand, And to this dreary spot I deem I have come at his command. *^ Fear not, thou,'' did the angels say, ** May thy heart no more have pain, For ere hath dawned the light of day Thou shalt see thy home again," And ere had dawned the morning's beams, As did the kind angels say, She roamed beside the silver streams Of home in the Milky Way. 80 SONG. n ( m SONG. When the moon by clouds is hid from sight, And the curtains of darkness are drawn, When I muse alone in dead of night, Then cometh the thought of one that's gone. O the thought of him unto my heart Is like all that's blessed and sweet below, And if in my dreams it forms a part, Gladly the visions do come and go. Like all that is holy, pure, and dear, Like all that's known that the heart loves best. Like the rainbow of eve or starlight clear, Like to holy, calm, sabbatic rest. How sacred the love I bore to him I I never breathed it in mortal ear I Yet oft-times now in the twilight dim I think I'd tell him if he were near. When the woods are crimson, green, and gold, When the winds howl hoarse and waters rise, Then cometh the thought of one that's gone To a sunny home 'neath southern skies. >i . ' pl!-' BBSPONSB. $1 RESPONSE. •^ +1.P city's crowded maze, I DWELL in tne cixy » Eternally between. She n.,«P o'er ««.««'«'-8'«' Or 8lnK of mountain fay , BSheTJ^irtVxofsongisnaugMtome, ^wSe parted now for aye. She is wooed by a taU warrior. ^ThrBJ«::4fae'erconldbe. I love her with love so fond and deep. ^'ti^m^'CldtheB.y. 32 THE KE9CUE. !■' ■■■J THE RESCUE. K'' I I COULD not sleep that drear night long^ Such wild thoughts burned my brain ; They dried the tears that fain had flowed^ "With their fierce, fiery pain. So 'neath the vaulted casement crouched;. I gazed with strange delight Through the thick, clustering ivy leaves Upon the boisterous night*. The strong winds on the rugged rocks Dashed the white, foaming spray; Boomed round the lonely battlements, And swept the turrets grey* The pale light of the gibbous moon Streamed through the parted clouds ; She hid her silvery face anon In their dim, misty shrouds. Then saw I many a white robed maid And gallant, armed knight, 'Neath frowning rock and leafy shade Glide in the ghastly light. ^%, THE RESCUE, S^ ** Ye ghosts of my illustrious sires," I breathed in ardent prayer, *^ Have pity on the captive cliild Of your last, injured heir," ^^ There's one," thought I, ** o'er that broad sea, '* Who pledged his ardent faith ; Knows he his loved one's fate must be More fearful far than death? " I had no need to doubt hi 3 troth, I knew him brave and good, And he had pledged his sacred faith Upon the Holy Rood, Yes I he had sworn by leave of doom, When one year passed away, To bear me from my gorgeous tomb Forth to the light of day. But what ©re that I the fearful thought, I drove it far away ; Then, as the darkness of the night Merged into twilight grey. The signal that I longed to hear Rang through the turret lone ; I waited not to braid my hair, Or clasp my jewelled zone. ^, ^ ^ o m>. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4^' 1.0 1.1 »« Ui 12.2 u Ii4 IK u 140 ■ 20 • 1 l-B H^ 1'^ ^ 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WBT MAIN STRUT WnSTIR.N.Y. 14SM (716) •72-4503 ^^<^ V 86 I HATE SINNED. I HAVE SINNED. *^ I hare sinned and perverted that wluch was right , an^ it profiteth me not."— Jb6 33, 27. E'en from my childhood's days, From the sweet dawn of life, - / Ere yet my feet had trod the ways Of weariness and strife: Yes I from my cradle day. My strong, impetuous will, PeiTcrsely shunned th' applauded way. And loved forbidden ill. The ill that ever brought But suffering and distress, My childhood's sins ne'er gained me aught Of joy or happiness. Youth's blessed season through. On hills all cultured fa';^ 1 sowed : the sunshine, rain, and dew Nurtured but weed and tare. / t HAVE SINNED. 87 and / Yet vainly did I dream — From seed of poisonous stock, I should a wholesome harvest glean In many a golden shock. I looked with longing eyes Towards each fruitless field, And saw a Homer with surprise A worthless Epha yield. Yet in my blank despair I breathed forth curses wild Against the hills so brown and bare While all around them smiled. I found no bliss nor gain In my sad, wilful deeds; I sought, but found no precious grain Among my noxious weeds. I said ''My hands are pure, No evil that were sin Shall ever be discerned sure - To lurk my heart within.'* But God's all-searching eye, That ever sees aright. Found that my proud iniquity Wjqs hateful in Ms sight. 38 THE COKFESSIOK. Had I but cast aside The ill, and sought the good, My peace had flowed like rivers wide And swelled as ocean's flood. But for the moments flown, Those misspent, youthful years, No deep regret can e'er atone, Nor prayers, nor sighs, nor tears. But with repentance true, I would the Saviour seek And cry " My will perverse subdue, And grant a spirit meek." ' ■■«» '■ Now from this summer day. That shines so fair abroad. Be thou my guide, my tnist, my stay. My helper and my Grod, / > THE CONFESSION. The silvery waters girt the meadows green, And the dark forests like a sparkling zone* Twilight and darkness mingled o'er the scene. Yet in the west day's radiant footprints shone. THE CONFESSION. 89 And near the crystal river's grassy side, There towered to heaven a stately Gothic pile ; The stern confessor, with a step of pride, [aisle. Paced slowly through the long-drawn, sounding If Gabriel from his station near the throne In the third heaven, were driven from glory now, And doomed a mortal's humble lot to own, He could not wear a colder, loftier brow. Another passed those portals opened broad, A stately footstep up the chancel came ; Before the cross the noble Lady Maud Knelt in the pale light of the taper's flame. Few were the words they spake on either part, And few the sins that high-born maiden told ; His words fell like the snow-flakes on a heart As chiselled marble in the church-yard cold. '^ Be of good cheer, my daughter, evermore; Be of good cheer, I speak absolvo te ; And oft our Holy Lady implore That thy fair home among the blest may be.'' She rose, and turned her, slowly to depart. That proud and stately dame so duly shriven ;' But little pious fervor warmed her heart. For little sin had been to her forgiven. 90 OUR FORMER HOME, OUR FORMER HOME. Thou dost remember, say dost thou not, The home where we did dwell? The old grey walls with the lonely spot ; They seemed to suit so well? And the wind would whisper mysteries wild Amid the forest pine, And the sound would blend in autumn night With th' old cathedral's chime. And we used to sit in dreamy hours As twilight passed away. In that recess all rich with flowers Of rainbow hues of day. I will speak no more of bliss that's past, Or anguish yet to come : Nor may I e'er tell the mystery That drove me from that home. • Kow the waves are c^lm, but feeling's wrecks Are strewn along the shore ; Farewell my only earthly friend, Farewell my loved Lenore I THE GARDEN. THE GAEDEN. / I AM told of some garden where cypresses nod With bowers of the dark night-shade, Its dark walks by muttering wizards trod, And their blackest magics played. There the sound is heard of the raven's mournful croak, And the hoarse winds whistling low, There the human voice hath never spoke Since the ages long ago. There a broad river rolleth as dark as the night By lilies as black as jet ; But 'tis said one rose of purest white Is upon its margin set. Sometimes it is said that a shining seraph form Is seen to be hovering near ; This rose then the white ghosts cease their storm, And the wizards fly in fear. *■- ■ No human tongue can tell, and no mortal can think, So I send my muse away, "Why this white rose by this stream of ink Never withers night or day. 92 THE GHOST. THE GHOST. Midnight breezes cooly sweeping O'er the meadow and the dale. Stars their silent virgils keeping With the moonbeams wan and pale« From the forest's deep recesses Darkest shades unseen by man^ Wandered forth the ghost of midnight) Pale and wasted, worn and wan. By a glittering, rippling streamlet, There he stopped in thought awhile^ And across his fleshless features Passed a darkly yengeful smile. But it vanished in a moment, As he glided through the wood, And beside an ancient castle Guarded by old trees he stood. There lay one in manhood's glory Sleeping 'mid its lordly halls. But the spirit's noiseless footsteps Wakened not the echoes' calls. LIFE* " May thy foreeires' sins be on thee For my death, though long 'tis passed ; '' Then the strong man's brow grew icy. As he slowly breathed his last. Then to death's deepest recesses, Darkest shades unseen by man, Wandered back the ghost of midnight,. Pale and wasted, worn and wan. LIFE. "When the moon of childhood sinks below The horizon of bygone years. The breezes of life begin to l)]ow. And glitters dew of joyous tears. The heart is light, but the sun rides high. Our spirits sink as we feel it burn. And then in our inmost hearts we sigh For moonlit childhood to return. But the night of death comes darkly on, No moon nor star its heavens know. And gales from the distant, dark unknown, With damp, cold breath o'er our spirits blow* 94 BETHLEHEM. BETHLEHEM. ti And thou, Bethlehem in the land of Judab, art not the least among the princes of Judah, for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people Israel,"— Jfo^.?, 6. "What spot so hallowed On all the spacious earth, As that wliich gave heaven's glorious king His humble, mortal birth. There gushing streams abound, And groves and vineyards standi Amid the song-renowned hills Of Judah's storied land. There lowly husbandmen With steadfast, patient mind. Cast freely forth the precious seed To wait the harvest kind. ^ Their blessed toil was sweet, Of no fierce power afraid ; There flocks and herds, with willing feet, Beside all waters strayed. BETHLEHEM. 95 And those who dwelt at ease On Zion's favored hill, Who felt the sound of harp and lute With joy their spirits tlirill. Those stately lords and dames Would thither ne^er repair ; There were no gilded palaces, No ivory couches there. Though little it might seem In Judah's royal tribe. If from it came no mitred priest Or haughty, learned scribe. The mighty wai*rior king Who ruled with skilful hand All Israel's tribes, and fixed his throne On Zion's Mount to stand ; Girt with Jehovah's strength, From Bethlehem's sheepfolds came, And gained the lowly, shepherd town A never dying fame. And to the meanest roof 'Neath Bethlehem's peacefiil skies. Came heaven's eternal, glorious king. Clad in an hnmble guise. 96 TO A WILD VIOLET. And he, whose right it is, *- * Shall reign on Zion's hill, Till peace, and joy, and righteousness The broad creation fill. From Asia's eastern bound To earth's most western shore, All kindreds, nations, tongues, and tribes Shall His great name adore. O for the light and joy His coming shall impart I O might His kingdom now begin In my poor, troubled heart. TO A WILD VIOLET. Thou wakest in my heart more emotion Than richest spoils of war — Than costliest gems from the ocean Where mighty waters roar. Not alone for thy downy purple, That fills the soul with bliss ; Not alone for thy fragrant odour, Sweet as an angel's kiss : TO A WILD VIOLET. n But thou speakest gently to my mind Of days and years gone by, TVTien I basked in pleasure's pure sunsliino 'Neath childhood's cloudless sky, When I fondly dreamt of Oberon, In pearl and crystal crowned, While on the moonbeams, silvery bright, The fairies danced around. Or some lonely mossy mountain dell, The wood nymph's wild abode. O'er which would the snowy laurel twine. And the gloomy cypress nod. Or of waters all sparkling brightly In lunar's fitful beam. And the weeping willow bending low Its branches to the stream. - But alas I how soon the mind awakes From childhood's rosy dream. To find earth is not the witching place That then it used to seem. 98 LIKES. ■ K. 5 I « Ill LINES SUGGESTED BY READIKG LAMARTIKFS AC- COUNT OF LADY HESTER STANHOPE. " It appeared to me that the religious doctrines of Lady Hester were a clever though confused mixture of the dif- ferent religions in the midst of which she had condemned herself to live; mysterious as the Druses, whose mystic secret she of all the world perhaps alone knew ; resigned as the Moslem, and like him, a fatalist; with the Jew, expecting the Messiah ; and with the Christian, professing the worship of Christ and the practice of his charity and morality: add to this the fantastic coloring and supernat* ural dreams of an imagination tinctured with Oriental extravagance, and heated by solitude and meditation, the impressions, perhaps, of the Arabic astrologers, and you will have an idea of this compound of the sublime and ridiculous which it is much more convenient to stigmatize as madness, than to analyse and comprehend She answered, * You speak to me like a man who believes so much in human volition, and not sufficiently in the unre- sistable control of destiny alone.' * Well, in the midst of these tribulations I am happy ; I respond to every- thing by the sacred phrase of the Mussulman's * Allah I Kerim 1' and I await the future of w hich I have spoken to you, with confidence.'" — Lamartine's Travels in the East, Communing nightly Tvith the solemn sky As with the spirit of a genial friend, I learned to know my marvellous destiny, All its strange leadings and its wonderous end. LIKES* 99 And O the zephyrs of the summer even, Their deep revealings I may not relate ; E'en the wild blast that rent the midnight heaven Bore voices loud, discoursing of my fate. I scorned the glittering pomp of Albion's court. The heartless pleasures of proud Gallia's land. And the bright East with joyous heart I sought, Beckoned by destiny's unvarying hand. The burnished glory of her sunset sky. The radiant beauty of her rising morn. Her scenes all seemed not foreign to mine eye, But as renewal of dreams forgotten long. I saw rough Lebanon; his time-worn brow So sparsely with the ancient cedars crowned ; And heard the mountain winds that wildly blow It's lone and unfrequented heights around. I trod dark Hinnom's vale, fair Carmel's height, And sailed o'er the blue waves of Galilee, In the soft summer, 'neath the tender light ' Of Palestina's moon, so silvery. And from the o'erhanging steep of Olivet On Salem's desecrated courts looked down, On shining tower and dazzling minaret Tliat Moriah's height and Zion's summit crown* . 1 100 THE BOBBEHS. But strong deliverance shall soon be showny ^^' And Zion's king the sceptre soon shall claim;. Then shall my glorious destiny be known, [name* Then the wide world shall hear my wonderous My eyes are Eastern, and my soul is love, v What care I for Europia's cold disdain? r- I have a holy mission far above The mean conception of her spirits vain. ( . [ i THE ROBBERS. The leaves came down in golden showers Upon my pathway lone , ^ And 'mid the dark brown forest bowers I heard the night winds moan, ^^'^^ And murmur sadly, wild, and low, Like wierd funereal hymn ; A wail for mortal's mighty woe, Or prayer for crimson sin. And now it mingled with the sound Of waters far awaj'^. The old moon showed her wasted round In skies of midnight grey. vk. >: TTHE HOBBEBS. 101 The mud hen of the forest swamp Joined with the whip-poor-will ; Ttie green frog of the reeking damp Uttered his nightly trill. V. x\i-i The long grass round my path was stirred By the t5oM, trailing snake ; > • The tjricket's weaiy song I heard Amid the withered brake. » Tlie bay of watch dogs, deep and strong From distant homes of man, Mingied with cattle^s bellowing long From out the liver feu. 'Now nearer seemed the sound of waves, And murmurs reached mine ear. That told me that the haunted graves Of murdered men were near. I maiTeUed if in truth I stood!- " So near the storied place, Beside St. John's broad, rolling flood, Where once in olden days Its waters mirrored back the light, — A cottage blazing red. Lit far around the moonless night With torch of bodies dead* 102 THE ROBB£SI?» f A horde of fierce, adventurous men From Europe's northern climes Eoamed wild — our fathers tell us — theD^ And lived by fraud and crimes* A peaceful man, of little fame, : i Save that his wealth was great, i In troublous times to Brunswick came ^ Ai3td lived in humbl©^ state* ^^ , ^^ha}- And with him dwelt three daughters fair„ In polished Europe bred, * And truly, 'mid the woodlands there^ , A peaceful lifie they led. ; , Secure and quiet deemed they then^ The lonely, forest land, For kindly dealt its dusky men With the brave, pale-faced band.. i . :< p. \ And when the tale af robbers wild Some passing neighbour told. Fondly the wealthy exile smiled To think how safe his gold. ^ ■i<. For wlia, within that cottage white "With rose and wild grape gay. Would dream that far concealed from sighk Bright golden thousands lay^ T^E KOBBERS. It seemed as evil bird of air Ere long the tale conveyed To the fierce, lawless theives, of where The glittering store was laid. It chanced a wakeful settler heard, One fair, autumnal night. The brake hard by his cottage stirred With stealthy tread and light. And mutterings in a foreign tongue He heard in breathless dread, Tall shadows o'er the path were flung That towards the river led. i^^ - 103 And ere the eastern sky grew bright - With light of coming day, ? Where rose the rich man's cottage white A smouldering pile there lay, / - 4":, " ■ , ■',-■" ^T may be of chance the flame arose, But in New Brunswick's land They deem they perished in repose ^ By ruthless robbers' hand. If there was sound of deadly strife - There was no friend to hear; If wild they strove for precious life, "No helping arm was near. I r ii 104 DKOWNIKG. But that sweet, lonely, peaceful land ' Was never vexed again, '- With rumors of the lawless band From o'er the eastern main. > •' DROWNING. r I WANDERED througli a meadow ; Where the elm and wild ash grew, And through the darkening shadow I saw the river blue. i i i ^ 'Twas said Nereu's daughters Haunted the lonely isle. And gazing in the waters, ^ , .,; I wished to muse a while, ^^i k • r i.^ The waves no more were rolling, . i For the breezes ceased to waft, So I climbed a slender poling Till 1 reached an anchored raft. . ^ I moved as the breezes, lightly. And as the wild deer, fleet, But the timbers joined so slightly They parted at my feet. DROWNING. The river reeds were limber, So with a frantic scream I caught a floating timber And drifted down the stream. They cared not or were hindered To seek me all the day, - For I from home and kindred Was very far away. And the thought of death came o'er me With a terror none can tell, And the stream it downward bore me, And I bade the earth farewell. 105 I"*-. Farewell my home of gladness * *' And friends that ever smile. There must be a cloud of sadness To darken you awhile. Farewell thou land of legend Where Nereu's daughters stray. May I reach that blissful region That is very far away. ; But I saw a wrinkled visage Peering from the woods on shore ; Then as if she grasped a presage Its gi'ey owner snatched an oar. lOG THE angel's walk. But the waves were closing o'er me, ' For I lost my holding frail ; Thou may'st know that grey crone saw me Or I ne'er had told my tale. ; i. s, 1 Though she saved my flesh from drowning Yet she did me fearful ill, For she forced my soul to owning 1 In its every thought her will. ^ THE ANGEL'S WALK. Two angels wandered forth f From the realms of light and love Through blue fields of ether, ,. • The boundless expanse to rove. • They paused. The waning sun Was turning the clouds to gold; They saw earth had beauties, Though the heavens had bliss untold. Though heaven had glories bright. Yet the earth seemed new and wild; They gazed in fond delight, In rapturous joy they smiled. -f^v- . THE angel's walk. "Where balmy zephyrs bear The fragrance from scented glades Along the cooling air Unto dark^ ambrosial shades^ , No tongue might speak its chaims, For it seemed as fairy land ; Sparkling waters wandered There, over bright, pebbled sands. With birds and flowers at play, There was a pure, happy child ; All the long, summer day, He had wandered through the wild. 'Neath the boughs of an oak That were stretched towards the sky, A prayer rose from his heart 107 i i:'. To the throne of God on high. ) The angels kissed his brow ; *■ He seemed like the cherub forms That reign in glory now. Never feeling mortal storms. In sleep he closed his eyes, But before the morning broke, To joys of paradise By the stream of life he woke. ?;l :-U 108 EAirni AND HEAVEN. The angels carried him To a land more fair than this, Gilt by summer sunset With tints of heavenly bliss . EARTH AND HEAVEN- I HAVE loved this Mr creation — Every cloud, and wind, and wave — With that warmth of adoration Nature to my spirit gave; « * ^ Hailed the golden mom with gladness Many a joyous summer day ; No dark thought of coming sadness Vexed those summers passed away. Saw the crimson eve descending ^^'^ On the vale and waters bright ; ^ ^ Well I loved that season blending "^^ Noisy day and quiet night, O I loved the wild winds wailing From the sultry southern lands, And the autumn moonlight paling Hills where golden harvest^stands. EAKTH AND HEAVEN, • And the rushing of the river, And the rippling of the rill, And the aspen leaves that shiver When the restless winds are still. And the thunders rumbling hollow, And the lightning^s vivid play. And the rainbow'd skies that follow As the dark clouds flee away. And the blast of winter roaring Like an angry giant king, And the cheerful sun restoring ^ The glad, verdant, flowery spring. But this world, so fair and fleeting, May not be our lasting home. And its joyous days retreating - * ; Tell of evil years to come. ^ But there is a land whose glory Knows no change, or cloud, or wane ; Even sweet, inspired story. Doth not all its bliss explain. There the dwellers know no sadness, As they walk in robes of white, Nor rejoice they with the madness Of a wild, earth-born delight. 101) no VALENTINE TO A LADY. \ \ I f .'i?'r. But their peace is like a river, ' ' And their joys are sweet and pure, And their blessed life forever Without soiTOw shall endure. VALENTINE TO A LADY. When the golden morning breaketh, And the darkening shadows flee, Snow-clad hills and forests glitter, Then, my love, I think of thee. And I think as stars are fading From the heavens, one by one, Truly light is sweet, 'tis pleasant T^or our eyes to see the sun. But, Eilza, thou art lovelier. To my heart I well may say ; ' '• Fairer than the golden morning ; v Sweeter than the light of day. But the thought of all thy coldness Seemeth like the wintry rain ; Oft I thought the skies were brightening, But the clouds returned again. VALENTINE TO A GENTLEMAN. Tell me now, my fair Eliza, Truly Jiast thon never heard How the heart grows sick and weary With the pain of hope deferred. Object of my fond affection, I can think of naught but thee I Maiden of my heart's election, Hast thou ne'er a thought of me? Ill VALENTINE TO A GENTLEMAN. f-' f'% My dearest grave professor, r I am smitten mightily ; Spite my tireless, sti'ong endeavor, i You have stolen my heart from me. "Wliy should I let '* concealment, Prey on my df«mask cheek, Like a worm upon the summer bud," While I have power to speak? Learned as the famous Thomas Thumb, And solemn as an owl ; Although you look most sagely glum, I much admire your scowl. 1 1 112 MURMURS, And O the irajesty that there On form and feature sits ; There's glory in the bristling hair That shades your " awful lips/' When a smile of dark derision Shows carnivorous teeth between, How your glaring orbs of vision, Like a famished tiger's, gleam. MUEMUKS. ^Ii Murmurs from the heaving ocean. Murmurs from the swaying wild-wood, Murmurs fi'om my troubled yo?ith, From my restless, yearning childhood. From the heartless, lustful tyrants. As a scourge the sceptre swaying, Murmurs from the cringing millions, Muttering, cursing, yet obeying. ^^ \ From marts all thronged and dusty, "Where meet the hoary miser. The spendthrift driven and jaded. And the worldly keen adviser. MURMURS. 113 From many a factory steaming, From many a steepled city, Where are gathered in a stone's throw All we envy, ail we pity. From mansions where are planning Festive bridal preparations ; From red fields where in conflict Meet the angry, armed nations. Murmurs from the ages vanished. From the future mystery shrouded, its strange form shown by prophets In the distance dim and clouded. These murmurs I am hearing When all is still, profoundly. Evermore these mingled voices In day and night surround me, 8 . mmm mm lU OUR FATHERS. OUR FATHERS, WHERE ARE THEY? " Our fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever f^' Sages tatight of learned lore, s Poets sang in days of yore, But the time might no man stay ^ "When all ties to earth must sever; Say, our fathers, where are they? Do the prophets live forever? Death awaiteth all alive ; Why for honor should we strive? We are borne along Time's stream, Gales of fortune care not whither. Say, our fathers, where are they? Do the prophets live forever? Far o'er Jordan's rolling stream, Shadets of which no mind may dream, There's a blissful, fadeless land. Mortal eye hath seen it never ; Where the righteous fathers stand, Eighteous prophets live forever. THE OLD MAN'S BLESSING. 115 THE OLD MAN'S BLESSING- I WAS a giddy, thoughtless child, i And 'mid the forest bowers, I wreathed myself a garland wild Of summer's early flowers. Then bounded forth into the light And gloried in the day ; With flowing hair all snowy white, An old man crossed the way. He laid his hand upon my head, And blessed me three times o'er; Though seventy years since then have fled I never saw him more. I thought of him at evening prayer, And in the dreams of night, I saw that old man's snowy hair All wreathed in rainbow light. O would it to my tongue were given To tell you all its power. For never was a dream of heaven. More glorious and pure. mm 116 THE OLD man's BLESSING. Years passed, but nothing new or strange Came o'er my path the while, My native village knew no change Of fortune's frown or smile. 'M I ISi •V. ; Hi\ p- Youth's season came, and I, too soon, Like all of mortal birth, Built castles higher than the moon, That heavy fell to earth. The moon looked on the slumbering earth, . Light blew the scented breeze In nooks where sweet, wild flowers had birth And through the stately trees. Then with a strange, mysterious grace I saw that dream again. Each feature in the old man's face Precisely seemed the same. Years quickly passed, and zephyrs played, Till I, no longer young. Was left, a pilgrim lone and sad. My heart with sorrow wrung. I found that life was saddest truth. How sad I may not say ; The friends and kindred of my youth They all were far away. BLENDIKGS. 117 The sky with mighty winds was riven ; I dreamed at night's dark noon That old man beckoned me to heaven And I must follow soon. i ', ■'. BLENDINGS. As PAIR and bright as the world may seem In its fresh, spring-tide array, East winds may spoil all its smiling green In one dark, unhappy day. And the blast of man's ingratitude "With a bitterer breath than they, Hath pierced my heart with its bowlings rude, In my own life's vernal day. The summer comes with the bursting bloom, And the dews of night are free. But rust and mildew will oft-times come In their blessed company. Thus a blight hath fallen on my peace In my sweetest summer hours ; It hath turned to gall and rottenness My heart's choice garden flowers. 118 LOST. Autumn hath many a chilling blast, And it beareth thought of pain, But its arms are filled with fruitage blest And vintage, and golden grain It may chance my own life's autumn days, Though my head be feilvered o'er, Will quiet, and calm, and happiness To my troubled heart restore. The spirit of winter in it groans, tit In the fierce, wild, driving storm ; We are sheltered in our peac3ful homes By the fireside, kind and warm. In life's wintry day, with terrors dark As death's storm draws on apace. The Saviour shall prove a sheltenng ark To those who trust in His grace. LOST. i I The moon looked grim through the thin clouds o'erit, And the birchen white, like a sheeted ghost. And the north wind drove the snow before it Into mighty drifts around every post. LOST. 119 The frost was keen, and the air was bitter, And the wandering wolves made a hungry moan ; Of such a scene as this it is fitter [known. To have dreamed in warmth, than have felt and The black bear long had ceased meandering. The beaver at rest in his dwelling sat, And naught through the forest aisles was wandering, Save only the wolf and the mountain cat. Naught else save them, and the lonely damsel Who strayed far that night from her father's home, Vainly she clambered o'er drift and wind-fall, And wildly she gazed upon heaven's dome. But the hounds are out, the menials seek thee, Thy father himself is the foremost man ; Thy mother weepeth, well may she weep thee I Nay, let her still hope for the while she can. Time passes ol, and they find her never. Saving her bleached bones in the wild cat's den ; Her father found her at dawn of summer. And the smile ne'er sat on his brow again. 120 KATURE GAVE ME A ROVING MIND. ; ■' m NATURE GAVE ME A EOVING MIND. Nature gave me a roving mind, And my thoughts would wander far ; They were bounded not by the horizon Nor topt by the highest star. They all, uncurbed, had leave to roam Through palaces and graves, [gloom. Through earth, and heaven, and helFs deep Wild as the winds and waves. I have listened to the midnight wind, And dreamed 'twas a demon's yell ; I tried to picture the scene in heaven "When^the first archangel fell. ti \ 1 1 I tfr r.i ' 'I There were wizards' groans in the midnight wind, As it swept through the haunted grove. And a sober thought, to my lawless mind, Was the wildest dream of love. I built a castle beyond the stars, Where the fairies might be found ; 'Twas built of ether, with moonlight bars, And vapory bulwarks round. NATUKB GAVE ME A ROVING MIND. 121 / I have often dreamed of its wonderous grace, 'Twas so magically fair ; Though feathery clouds were round its base, Its walls were illumined air. While fancy governed all my thought, ' 'Twas with potent spell, and strong, But my mind was of fickle, changeful mould, And nothing could charm me long. So I vowed that I would sing no more Of the wizards or the ghosts ; Of the wood-nymph in her laurel bower, Or Oberon and his hosts. Not that I meant to turn from sin ; But I meant to seek for bliss In something more sweet and womanly. More human-like than this. But I felt a restless discontent, For comfort was nowhere found ; The light of fancy had faded out And darkness was all around. s But wherefore over those realms of night Do my thoughts prefer to stray? For the blessed Jesus gave me light, And the shadows fled away. 122 FRAGMENT. ^^ , ■ til ; .'■ «• ^, P n 1 11 Though a light to lighten my path to Him Arose in my spirit soon, 'Twas dim at first, 'twas passing dim, Like the twilight of the moon. But the shadows that gathered round my soul At th^|dawning fled away ; , , And brighter forever that light shall shine, ■, . Till it rise to the perfect day. FRAGMENT. Alone through drear and marshy fens she wandered, Where grew the swamp weed, and the waving rush. Through thickets then she took her path, unpon- dered ; Thickets of sapling birch and alder bush. -» . _ " , . -1 ■ ■ ■ - And yet the wild birds seemed to love their shadow, As well and gladly did they sing and soar, As in the pine, the elm, the oak, and willow, That stately stood around her father's door. At length she saw the river and the city, Its^oofs and spires all bright with sunset glow; Full well she knew the righteous seldom pity Transgressors for the rugged path they go. ANTICIPATIONS. ^^3 !. ' And scarce a bow-shot ftom home's sacred portal, That same blue river laved the pebbly shore, She sobbed, ** Ah me, was ever lot of mortal. So drear, so desolate, so dark before! ''And that same sun that shines on his sad daughter Gilds the white marble o'er my father's grave " — She spake, and plunged beneath the yielding water. His honored name from taint of shame to save. ANTICIPATIONS. "When I sleep in the shadow of death, Far away from the radiance of time, A beam from eternity's day Shall illumine the region sublime. • ■ Then the wintry tempests may rise. And the slumbering echoes may wake, Or the thunders may rend the dark skies, And the earth to its centre may shake. Or the spring may be fragrant and fair As it was when I loved it of old. Or the autumn may wither again From ages to ages untold. y!S.8 ,1' .% [I- ^ 124 THE WONDER OP C- .4 df Or the dew-drops as even may come To water the flowers that I love, But a purer and happier homo Is awaiting my spirit above. f O, those realms so ineffably bright, And those glories untainted by sin I That radiant effulgence of light Hath no eye of mortality seen. And mention shall ever be made Of aught that the eye can behold, With those mansions that ever shall stand Unpurchased by silver or gold. THE WONDEE OF C It is a shame, I've often thought — A dreadful pity, still I say — That C is not known abroad As London of America. Or, better still, 't might be compared With Athens, Ninevah, or Kome ; For such illustrious geniuses Hail glorious C as their home. THE "WONDER OF C- 125 O might the power that on that land Sheds rife such blessings, rich and rare, Grant me assistance that I may- Its noblest hero's praise declare. Don't say he's insignificant, And meagre both in form and face ; Don't whisper that he lacketh aught Of manly beauty, strength of grace. For that inspired-looking mustache Amply atones for want of size, The death-like paleness of his face, And lustreless, unmeaning eyes. I'll tell you for your guidance, friend, If ever you should chance to meet This strange, two-legged phenomenon In lordly hall or busy street. You'll know he's of superior birth. You'll feel convinced that he should be, Because, too exalted for the earth. The occupant of some tall tree. But as you stand with breath suppressed. With gaping mouth and lifted hand. Let sober thought at once suggest He came from C 's wondrous land. I>r 126 THE TWILIGHT CLOUDS. THE TWILIGHT CLOUDS \ I The amber clouds, so hugely piled On the edge of the darkening heavens, Rise up in forms all wierd and wild By the restless west-wind driven. Now rise tall mosques, their minarets In the light of even aglow ; Now, castle turrets, ivy-grown, With embattled arches below. Now giant warrior, clad in mail, With greaves, and sword, and helmet bright ; Or priest, with censor fuming pale. And flowing robes of fleecy white. Now rise a dim and motley crowd — The turbaned Turk, the hooded friar, The wizard grey, to earthward bowed. Or dreaming minstrel with his lyre. These are the forms of the twilight clouds ; Thus they vary, and take no rest. Till night's thick darkness blackly shrouds Day's latest glimmer in the west. autumn's blast. 127 AUTUMN'S BLAST. The blast of autumn bindeth ^* . Summer'fi breezes to its car ; Towards snowy realms it windeth And its moan is heard afar. The forest leaves are falling, Its loud mandates to obey ; And 'mid the branches calling*, Is the wildly solemn lay. Of bygone days 'tis singing. When our hearts with hope beat high ; And through sad memory ringing, Echoes disappointments sigh.