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A CARD. ^ The Author hereby returns thanks to the Editors of "The Chap Book," Peterson, and Cr.nadian Magazines, for kind permission to include in this vohime poems contiibuted by him to those periodicals. ! |i J Ml \m\ III CONTENTS. >% POETRY Measures dulcet and divine - OUTSIDE THE TENT Ten thousand blossoms animate the scene I'ACiF. 15 18 (t THE POET'S HERITAGE The poet in his narrow world at eve 20 CHATEAUGUAY VALLEY Fair vale of Chateauguay, refulgent 2Z 1 * »* vni CoiUcnt0. A SUMMER DAY I know a sunny winding vale THE NIGHT Tlie Nigiit shook out her star-jew'11'd hair DEUS, PINXT God's canvas is the bending sky - SPRING-WOODS Within the bosky solitudes - LIMNINGS OF SUMMER The holy note of summei' bird A LYRIC OF LATE AUTUMN O student of the various mood ALONG THE WAY A sparrow on a flow'ry hedge TRANSFORMED Twas in the purple-flow'ring month we met PAGE H 25 27 28 29 31 34 35 Cot!tcnt0. AliROAD ON HOLY-UAY I love to walk on solemn holy-day l>ACB 36 LIMNINGS OF SPRING Dandelions beat their i^old 37 SKETCHES OF SUMMER The thrushes wake in suiiiach-l:ee 41 A SONNET OF SUMMER Beauty and Jo) live through the summer day 44 SONNETS OF THE AUTUMN Wouldst thou be happy e'en in loneliness 45 MILADY Lips, as cool as mountain dew 46 THE VALE OF ESTABELLE They hide within the hollows, and they creep into the dell 2 47 PAGE ^ Contents. THE FALL WIND The wind has stalked adown the garden path 5 BESIDE THE BRIDGE I love to lounge about the bridge 1;3 AN OD.-^. Not ail delights of eld have passed away - 57 A VILLAGE BALLAD I asked the sad-faced, crippled boy the cause of all his woe 67 LATE AUTUMN Behold ! the maize fields set their pennons free 71 FROM EVE TO MORN O'erflowing with the molten sun 74 MOTHER AND SON Mother of a piteous fate 75 Contents. SUNSET Where purple, jagged peaks uplift XI I'ACE .1 TO A WATERFALL , V silv'ry sheen against a dark brown steep 78 A SONNET OF THE WOOD Oft have I lingered through the peaceful eve - 80 HYMN TO THE GOD OF NATURE Father of mercies 1 from whose bounteous hand 8 1 THE BALLAD OF THE GARDENER I lingered thoughtfully at eve before two graven stones S4 IN NOVEMBER Give me the suns of November days - - 88 It \:. TILL EVENTIDE O Angel of Peace ! come, soothe me to sleep 89 XI 1 Contcntg. CECILY'S GARDEN O garden of delights ! tell me PAGE 90 RECLAIMED *Tis sweet to have no greater thing to do - 92 MORN IN ARCADY The peerless lark's reveille rings 93 m AN AUTUMN WIND A truce with cares and labours ! I have cried 94 THE MOCKING-BIRD I know a place where sings the mocking-bird 95 AN ARCADIAN MORNING Auroral splendours scintillate 96 THE REALM OF LOVE The silv'ry chimes were ringing in the tow'r - 97 ;pi CcwtcntB. UNTIL THE EVJFL_^____^^^ Knee-deep in lush red clover -field xin PAGE 98 WITHIN THE WOOD \ wandered idly in a wood 99 NIGHT MUSINGS Oft in the night I've sought a dewy bank - 100 A RURAL SONG Oh, give me the hour, when the old church tow'r - - - - ■ - - loi THE MOORISH CAPTIVE Amid the mockery of silk-bung walls - - 103 ;W I Ii AN ORIENT MAID I watched her tie her sandals on THE CONNOISSEUR Of all the wines, if I had my choice 105 - 107 XIV Contents. V/HERE THE LEAVES DRIFT I laid me down upon a sedge -fiinf,'ed bank EVEN-TIME In meadows deep with hay, I see PAGE 1 08 iir "APOLLO! ORAM us:" Hail! Phoibus Apollo ! with argent rays bright 11: i Hit poetry. Measures dulcet and divine, Fancy ! sing me for my gladd'ning; Thrill, by turns, when all supine. With some bugle's war-cry madd'ning, When the hero on to fame Sweeps through hnes of glitt'ring lances. Lull me, then, with some soft name. Calling through a maze of trances. H 'M Waft me to Sicilian slopes ; There to find swart shepherds singing Pastoral rhymes on lovers' hopes, While the rose abroad is flinging ■f; r i iLjwu>ji.jii i ia[j^u ' .m i i6 Its ambrosial petals white; And Theocritus, rapt, musing, In the lilac-breathing night, I might meet, his thoughts confusing. Scents of op'ning cassia buds Sate me with, and lotus flowers ; Let me float on Nile's pale floods. Underneath the citron bowers. Or in some sublimer mood, In elegiac cadence sorrowing, We'll call to the Stygian brood ; From the winds sad dirges borrowing. Ah, so dull, fair Fancy ! soon Will that comp'ny be ; then joyous, Spread thy pearly wing at noon ; Let the lighter pleasures cloy us ; Pour the wine in ev'ry vein • Sapphic strophes soft repeating, Till from my transported brain Sordid thoughts of life are fleeting. li i poetry. 17 Like a cygnet, or a cloud, Let me float through skies or water ; Beckoned Light-ward, from the crowd, By a star-born Houri-daughter. Numbers dulcet and divine, Singing in the poets' pages ; So delight us line by line, While Earth's burd'ning care engages. i, t. i8 ©utsiDe tbe Ucnt Ten thousand blossoms animate the scene,— A thousand thousand leaves of flashing green ; The field-lark tries his sweet-stopped flute,— The peasant maiden, too, her lute ; And love is ev'rywhere expressed,— In rush-thatched hut : in songbird's nest. It i O ! watch the lights and shadows weave at dawn A chequered pattern on the daisied lawn ; And when again 'tis ebon all, Come ! listen to the echoing call ; The warder-wind, the star-watch through, Sounds : '' Verd'rous hills, is 't well with you ?" ©ut0i&c tbc Zcnt, 19 Somewhere the iris hfts its dew-lit eyes ; And husiied pools wonder, and th' enamoured skies. Within the mazy wood and dim, Hear Nature's holiest for^"t-hymn ! While from earth's leaf-strewn altars rise Sweet orchis' scents, — a sacrifice. II m ■r \, m mi f 20 U\K pocvs Iberitaoe. The poet in his narroiv world at eve Roamed solitary; it was often said, On dew-wet sheaves he made his frequent bed. Yet those who searched his glance must needs believe He held Arcadian groves, where wood-nymphs weave Each summer moon for him, immortal bays ; For some deep joy" played in his eyes and lays. And though in tearful numbers he might grieve, He only sighed for Colin on his crook Leaning, within a melancholy nook. The poet had not empires at his nod ; Yet clouds, that dipped their skirts in liquid gold, O'er-canopied his ev'ning walks ; the sod, Before his steps, its em'rald carpet rolled ; Zbc poet'6 Ibcritaflc. 21 And nodding poppy gardens crimson spread Before his view, unto a winding brook ; Here he would come, and languishingly look Upon the lilies in their rocking bed, — And muse of lotus flow'rs and Thebes long dead. Sometimes the tinkling cow-bells in the field Would unto him a fragrant harvest yield Of holy thoughts, for he would hear instead The distant ringiisg of a minster chime Over an old-world glebe or vale sublime. The poet's world was 7viife ; no youth or age Compassed or hindered him ; — calm Milton's high Majestic sonnets, and an Aldine page. Had shown him once for all what cannot die. !■. (■? WT 22 CbateauoiuiN? milc^. Wf> i -I Fair vale of Chateauguay, refulgent ! Thy daisied lawns and slopes, indulgent Of dreamy ease and careless sleep, I oft recall ; the days of haying ; The sprightly blue-eyed maidens Maying ; Thy brooks where silv'ry fishes leap;— Those rock-bound fountains, Cool, in the mountains, I thirst for; and I miss thy hill-paths steep. I know a lofty pine that shaded A fleet of plantains, arrow-bladed ; A cove where golden lilies flow'r'd ; dbatcaufluax! Dallci^. 23 And in one secret hollow only, The pink arbutus budded, lonely ;— And when the genial spring-time show'r'd, A wood-thrush listened. Where rose-leaves glistened About his downy nest with sprays embow'r'd. i (I I • .t t 24 H Summer JS>a^, u f I KNOW a sunny winding vale, Where cool and bubbling springs ne'er fail ; And where a hollov. dips, A lakelet lifts its cup of blue (As Ganymede to Zeus) unto The great green world's warm lips. P'orsaken pasture lands slope to a stream ; And wing-tired insecls dream The hot noon through, Swinging on blooms of meadow rue. O'er fruiting orchards bobolinks Sing mellow songs. My thirsty spirit drinks A golden fill of liquid notes, If Spent wantonly from happy throats ;— While censers of the clematis DiiTuse incense and bliss. i 1 ^1^ ^5 v:bc mm* The Night shook out her star-jew'11'd hair, And laughed whenever moonbeams flashed ; She trips wherever daisies wear Their white dream-nightcaps, yellow-dashed. O Night ! T love thy flashing eye. Half veiled beneath its lashes dark ; Tell us what roused thee ! step or cry ? Or was it only glow-worm's spark ? In melancholic spirit oft I seek thy glades, where once I heard Beneath the leaves, in cadence soft, The stai-^hrilled music of a bird. 3 ! Ill . »i- I I 26 ^hc mm. Calm brow of Night ! how pure thou art From contemplating long thy stars ; How full thy peace ! man's little heart The slightest molestation jars. 'T is good to hide the human lace, From human friend, upon thy breast; Thou last, sweet refuge of disgrace ; The tired day's pillow ; sorrow's rest ! Night, Night ! thou holy praying time ! When man can look on God and live ; When shamefaced guiltiness dare climb Tvj heaven's gate and plead : " Forgive." J How opulent thou art of gold ! I How queenly in thy Tyrian robe ! ] When lightning gilds the distant wold, ,' And drops the purple on the globe. The poets sang of Malmsey wine, And trav'llers praise dry Santorin ; Yet lead me, Eve, to dew-dipped vine, And berries masked by leafage green. Dciis, ipir.vt. 27 The wild wind calls, and 'cross the moon's Round, frightened face the white clouds race; The lunar orb reels wide, and swoons Within some dark Tartarean place. H)eus, piiiit. God's canvas is the bending sky ; His pencils sunbeams, swift and true ; His colors, — pearl, chalcedony ; His pictures clouds, on background blue. * ;»i ' I .k. ill . j^Hr . ^n '^^^K ■ W V 2^ J.) Spring*Ximoc>s, .| Within the bosky solitudes Shy, melancholy Nature broods Over some love or loss ; And peering through the brake, I see The wind-dropped flow'r, anemone, In milky borders toss. Now wakes, where sap-warmed trees are bourgeoning, The amber-budded spring ; And in the dim cool dells, Behold the snow-drop's frosted bells ! The swaying, trim claytonias pink, Their slender arms with sweet-eyed violets link, — Tripping to meet the vernal Queen, Robed in soft dewy garments green ; And danghng coral columbines Sprinkle sweet ruddy wines. 29 Xtmnings ot Summer. m The holy note of summer bird ; The rare, suspended hour of noon ; The noiseless straying of the herd ; — These consecrate the month of June. The first rose on the trelUs wakes ; The zephyr spreads the news around ; From bow'ry seats, the bird choir shakes The natal numbers to the ground. (t The blackberry, its long white arms. Heavy with bloom, moves to and fro ; The square church tow'r, with ivy charms, Stands limned against the sunset's glow. I , ^ir If I f 3° 2Liinnliin3 of £'Uminer. On glassy inlet's bosom float The balanced shallops, and below The last, an upturned shadow-boat Embeds its masts where oar-weeds grow, 9 Horizon's tardy western gate, All flecked with gold and barred with blue, Half open swings, that sunbeams late,— (From ling'ring on the hills, o'erduu) May fold them in ; for king of day, Attended by gay-pennoned band, An hour ago, held regal way Into the close of night's dim land. 31 H %mc ot Xalc Butuinn. STUDENT of the various mood Of this chill sylvan solitude ! 1 would that half were giv n to me Of thy sweet misery. The absent bloom ; the sear, brown year ; The silence by the season's bier ; The faring southward of the birds, Grieve like Love's dying words. i The loon's disquiet, frequent cry Bedews thy melancholy eye ; But crows are sportive in the wood, As though all things were good. !•: i fp^im If 32 B Xerlc of %nte Butumm Strewn are the petals of the rose ; The sweHing north-wind colder blows; The virgin'sbow'r is shiv'ring where The fire-flies used to flare. The golden-rod alone doth wear A gleam of summer in its hair ; And one last aster, flow'ring bhie, Remains to autumn true. The hedge forsaken by the thrush ; The rustling sedge ; the hawthorn bush, No more resound with happy song, In the gray gloaming long. Pellucid runlets through the meads No more bear argosies of seeds ; No more toss anchored lily-boats, Or cool birds' song-tired throats. ' The cardinal's banner of the Fall No more flaunts wide in Flora's hall ; Nor crickets' carols from the grass Call zephyrs as they pass. B Xgrfc of Xatc Butumn. The wild-bee's busy garnering's done ; And not a cloud melts in the sun ; The purple, mist-wrapped hills are cold, And ev'rything is old. 33 p 1 Mystic and far, x heard the bells Of Is between the sea's loud swells ; And winds through yarrow on the dunes Startled with weirder tunes. Half-syllabled I heard strange names ; I trembled, for they were not Fame's; And questioned, distraught with the time, If aught but death's sublime. n (I I;) 11 34 M ' I Blono tbe Ma^. A SPARROW on a flow'ry hedge Melts all his soul in song, — the pledge Oi' the supernal year ; And purple morning-glories lift To the sun's rays, a cooling gift Of nectar-wine for cheer. Like fields of wind-tossed stars, the marguerites Tremble in lone retreats. The briar roses pink Invite the bee to musk dew-drink ; And thrushes in the dim wood sing Wild strains, with which the leafy coverts ring. On olive lily-pads the gold Of new-blown petals is unrolled, And bobolincolns trail along A tinkling chain of song. 35 Uranstorme^. 'TwAS in the purplc-flow'ring montli \vc met, And I had gatliered fleurs-de lis for her ; And sought the dim wood where the fern leaves stir To find an orchis, fringed and sweet and wet ; These in her simpl > joy she coyly set Among her tresses ; — but I knew her not ; Some passing wind a sylph or nymph had brouglit. i U And ere I sighed t)r spoke a vain regret, She led me to a green and shadowy grove, Where fallow-deer, large-eyed -IvI ^nyly rove ;■ And on a bank of thyme we two did sit ; Words were forgotten ; in her wide blue eyes I read some symbol language, though my wit Had passed away. I dwelt in Paradise. 1 (t 1 .I'^i r II f»- fm 36 Bbroa^ on ir3olp*Da\?. I LOVE to walk on solemn holy-day, When clanging bells ring high in chapel tow'rs ; In morning hour, when perfumes of the show'rs Still leave exhilarant the pool-lined way ; And girls, Madonna-faced, haste by to pray ; Adown the road that dips into the dell ; Past Hereford cattle driven to a well ; Surprising groups of truant boys at play ;— To wildwood murm'ring to the summer breeze, And dimmer forest thick with maple trees ; Yea, on until the branchy umbrage spreads Its dense protection o'er a drooping rose ; And here imconsciously we bare our heads, h\v\ NatUt*. absolution sweet bestows. «f \ 37 Xtmntnos ot Sprino. M ■■MM 11^1^ Dandei-ions beat their gold, Round and rich, beside the way ; Commerce with the children hold, Tired with their blithe roundelay. } ^ DaflTodils, their yellow hair, Toss inside the garden pale ; Teasing winds, invading there. Kiss the violets by the rail. One week hence and buttercups, Sallow eyed, will dream at noon; III r i : 3^ 2,tmnfitf;s of Spring. When the pois'nous marsh-toad sups At the stream brink, where, in June, ChaHces of gold and white, Leaning on a tray of green, Will the dragon-fly invite, Liveried in purple sheen. Hordes of daisies, roaming wide, Up the banks their empire drag ; Tartar-like, their purpose hide, Flaunting war with yellow flag, — AVaving peace with banners wan. To the hollows of the mead All the clover blooms are drawn, Promising the fumous seed. \i ,1 |i '"I i Prized by rustic youths to smoke. When clandestinely they meet In a leaky barn to joke ; While obliciu'jly drives the sleet. 1Limn(n06 of Spring. Sinuously to the dunes, Moves the powdered road along ; Till it halts, surprised by tunes Sea-nymphs sing, where breakers throng. Ocean sounds, and stranded shells Learn the syren nlelody ; Hiding in their pink-walled cells Orphaned harmonies from sea ; 39 These are hummed in children's ears, When they circle round th<.' fire, And the north-wind sows its feai":; 'Mong the birds on swaying wire. In the roadstead fisher boats Lazily heave up and down ; While, on far horizon floats All the pride of sunset's town. |l' On the beach, the ribs and keel Of a shore-washed schooner lie ; li '^mm ''i 40 lLlmnin(j0 or Spring. Shipwrecked, when the storm-fiends' reel Madly swept the tumbling sky. Sunset's bark, all water-logged, Sinks, with myriad banners dressed ; Ev'ning dun, by star-scouts dogged, Scatters gold-dust in the west. J. 41 Sftetcbes of Summer. The thrushes wake in sumach-tree, And shake abroad their golden notes ; And now that the glad morn is free, Soon will resound the fieldlarks' throats. The herons stir among the reeds ; The beacon lights pale on the hill ; The yellow lilies, 'mong the weeds, Augment the day ; and sings the rill. f Now flit the brilliant humming-birds, And fill, among the holly-hoc!'« Their slender bills ; with cadenced words. The shepherd calh unto his flocks. if -f^^SZ 42 Q\\ctcbC3 of Suininer. The flaxweeds' bells ring in high noon ; A goldfinch darts about the thorn ; — What ecstasy ! what priceless boon ! To be a bird 'mong white bloom born. Hail ! luscious, fragrant fruiting day ! When apples ripen on the branch ; When pears grow ruddy; and the hay, All seed-despoiled, begins to blanch. The ancient, moss-grown cherry bole, The ivy's scirrhous arms entwine. I ask thee, has that flow'r a soul, That once bloomed here, an eglantine ? From noon to deeper day, the hours Roll on ; the red-winged blackbird flies 'Mong rosy bells in dogbane bow'rs. From minaret, in azure skies ; Or is it from the pine-tree's top, I hear a proud and splendid note ; Oh ! will thy rhapsody e'er stop, Thou tanager in scarlet coat ! sketches of Summer. The shadows lengthen ; crickets trill Their slender lays unto the night ; The brown-eyed yellow daisies still Grow richer 'neath the west'ring light. 43 Up from the pastures, red and white, The vesper-sparrow lifts his song, Until it wins some upland height, Where ravished echoes whisper long. Now rings the sharp cry of the hawk ; A bat wings low and noiselessly ; The wild-thyme scents the garden walk, And shadows lengthen 'neath the tree. The orchids droop in varied bloom ; Nectareous dews distil at eve ; Ah, list ! in the wide hallowed gloom, Methinks the ancient spirits grieve. f|i it ' i I), h 44 %l B Sonnet of Summer. Beauty and Joy live through the summer day ; The morning rustles by my bed of dreams, In garments made of woven auroral beams ; And toying zephyrs in the garden stray, Shaking the dews from each rose-weighted spray Upon the crimson poppies' burning lips. A white-winged butterfly delighted sips Of cooling golden wine, his thirst to allay. The while he poises on the yellow brim Of buttercups. And when the day is dim ; And shadows flutter in the rising gale ; And oak leaves tremble in the wood afar, Like falling flakes of gold, — o'er night's dark rail Pale seraphs lean, each with a censer-star. 45 /1 Sonnets ot tbe Hutumn, VVouLDST thou be happy e'en in loneliness, In this chill silent season of the year; When e'en the lush green swamp-grass groweth sear; And though the tanager of scarlet dress Has lost his wine-wet song by too great .tress Of sorrow; and the larks' notes, smoothed with dew, Have passed despairingly with summer too ; And though the bobolinks thy spirit bless No more, with their too happy melodies ? In retrospection, walk these upland leas ! And cull thy gentle mem'ries of the past ; For thou hast surely here watched humming bees Explore the blossomed bough, where now the last Dry leaf is shiv'ring on the apple trees. * 1 ! 46 ^ilaC)g. And where the ploughboy leans o'er the bright share, The cool-leafed violet thou hast plucked in spring ; And heard white-throated sparrows joyful sing Nine golden notes of fame, to charm thy care. What if the purple marshes mist-wreaths wear ; And if the sedge conspires in whisp'ring breath To sow the terrors of the coming death Among the trembling fronds of maiden hair ! Hast thou not from the silv'ry pools and ponds Gathered white lilies, and the purple wands Of fleurs-de-lis ? Hark to the merry stave The bronzed swain v>rhistles as he swings his steel ; And see where golden-rods their rich plumes wave ; And let some joy thy mournful bosom feel ! /llMla&^. Lips, as cool as mountain dew ; Looks, as soft as summer's moon ; Breath, like rose-scent filtered through The flow'ring bow'rs of June. 47 I? ^be Dale ot JEstabcUe. They hide within the hollows, and they creep into the dell; The little, time-stained headstones, in the vale of Estabelle. I often looked across them, when I lounged upon the hill; - I never walked among them, nor could cross the moody rill. I had a dread of seeing e'er the dead of pallid face And feared at night to meet their ghosts haunting a lonely place. 1. 4S Cbe IDalc of J&dta&eUe. The church bell rang at night-time, just one hollow, dismal toll ; The agbd by the cranny heard, and sighed : " How grows Death's oil 1" Each meadow has its sparrow and each copse its note of spring ; But seasons through I never heard a bird in grave- yard sing. A solemn man, the sexton, and 't was he you saw at eve, Look at the sun, lay down his spade, wipe brow upon his sleeve. The church was old ; its tower bold, and dust- bedimmed the panes ; The preacher ever paused a while, when fell the autumn rains. The goodwives ceased from musing, and some fear upon them came ; " 'T is ill to be from church to-day, when one's not blind or lame." ZTbe IPale of jeetnbcUe, 49 They often asked me why it was I shunned the headstones so ; "I fear them not," I said, "to some new grave with you I'll go." I thought perhaps a patriarch would tire of life, and sleep ; I'd walk behind,— he was so old,— there'd be no need to weep. The morrow morn came darkly; there was awe within the town ; Three days of dread before they said, " 'T was pretty Alice Brown." Oh ! 't is not she of hazel eyes ; of plaited golden hair; Whose smiles of greeting always beamed like heaven on my care ! m k III Au Not Alice of the sidelong glance; soft heart, and tender sigh That kissed the rose aswoon ; tell me ! did God let Alice die? 5« Zbc Dale or jEj3ta[)cUc, "The third day past came darkly; there was awe within the town ; "They called her long, but ne'er will wake your pretty Alice Brown." ff^ m I linger in the village still ; I cannot go away ; I walk the ways alone at eve; sometimes I pause and pray ; — It is not much I say of her ; I say it very low • Bet somehow it is sweet to think, " Perh he spirits know." One house there is I never pass ; one way I never look; I never climb the hill at eve; I never cross the brook ; But over there, amid the rest, is carved into a stone, Her name and day, and that sad word I feel the most : " Alone." ^bc mic of JEetabciie. SI They hide within the hollows, and they creep into the dell ; Those little, crumbling headstones in the vale of Estabelle. ^ I ri I '■ u. il.i^ 52 TLbc mi MlnJ), The wind has stalked adown the garden path, And blown the lights of all the poor flow'rs out ; From maple wood I hear his stormy shout ; The russet leaves take flight before his wrath ; In stubble fields and clover-aftermath, The wreckage of the year is strewn around ; The mottled aiiters lie upon the ground. Of all the bloom, the tyrant north-wind hath Left only golden-rod, in saffron rows, — And thebe, with bulging cheeks, he blows and blows. Until they glow, and mingle with the west, When setting suns lean low upon the land. And songless birds, in cheerless plumage dressed. Wing south or somewlicre; mute, discouraged band. 53 Beside tbe JBri^oe* I LOVE to lounge about the bridge, That in one leap surmounts the brook ; I like to lie on clovered ridge, Once tenanted by gold-crowned stook. A far, faint call it is to sea ; And near as far to meadows dank ;— The blue skies woo the maple tree, Upon this breezy upland bank. When mists uproll, outstand the spires And tow'rs of populated towns ; I hardly hear the wavy choirs, That tune melodious 'neath the downs. !(' 1 ( I km 54 3Bc6i&c tbc JSrtDgc. But sing, my gentle hill-side rill ! No mocking pedant is around ; And dainty Madge, from brook-side mill. Comes not till tinkling kine-bells sound. "The world is wrong ; it will not hear My messages of Peace, of Life ; Untended, Sorrow drops her tear. And sweet-faced Patience flees the strife. "The rich ; the mobs, contemn the arts ; On selfishness they found the State ; — The storied deeds of ardent hearts, With myths, find desuetude their fate." Hold ! clearest, sweetest, singing rill ! The skies, and you, and God are left ; And let me follow in some dream, — The butt of scorn, but not bereft Of love of beauty, and the faith That it alone is ample meed For all frustrations ; so, I graith My garden row for poppy seed. JBcsiOc tbc mvi^Qc, And therefore do I steep my soul In passion for the summer-time ; I laugh to see the drunk drones roll, All nectar-drugged, from burdened cyme. 55 And soon the droning ///^;//M'-bee,— No such ga//a/i/ e'er wore his spurs ! Wings loud to a catalpa tree, Where 'mong the streaked racemes now stirs A sated, truant zephyr-wight. Decoyed by all the froth-like bloom. From riding on the billow's height. And sporting where the white-caps spoom. The cherries, red and round and lush. The boys and noisy cedar-birds Scarce leave t' augment the new day's blush. That warms the east and wakes the herds' Wide riot of this fruiting day ! From thickets where the berry ripes, (1 (I I- mm 56 JQc6it)C the 3Qtit>QC. To drying heaps of marsh-grown hay ; And where a Black-eyed-Susan wipes Its houri-eyes, that love the dusk. The honeysuckles to the eaves Climb with the prairie-rose ; and musk And rare, the Night looks through the leaves. 57 Bu ©De, WRITTEN IN AUTUMN. Not all delights of eld have passed away ; The joyful vales, like Tempe smiling green, Welcome god Helios to his azure day With the old feeling of that age serene, When ev'ry tree its dryad had ; each spring Its naiad ;— still the eglantine doth peep With conscious eyes upon its rosy world ; In grottoes cool, j^et Hamadryads sleep ; Again o'er violet beds floats Zephyr's wing,' Where Chloris' pretty form asleep is curled o i»i »fL mA I "^ s8 Bn ODc. P>om ev'ry wood horned Pan his Echo calls, Or seeks th' Arcadian Syrinx through the trees ; At night he answers back the waterfalls, Piping unto the music-freighted breeze ; — While Echo, hapless Oread, desperate pines For one sigh from Narcissus, heartless boy. So peopled are the glades and verdurous dales ; And I have longed, in my upswelling joy, To take an opiate poppy draught, or wines With lotus tinct, and dream among these vales. Yet walking do I dream ; and waking, love Th' unviolated wild ; — the feathery birch Sets all its leaves to dance ; — the cooing dove, Self satisfied upon his leafy perch, Eyes the dissolving purple of his breast ; — Emerging from the dim thick underwood, The quail repeats her gurgling call, and suns Her mottled wing, — or leads her callow brood, Surprised, back to their hushed and secret nest, — Or twittering, through the stubble fields she runs. A savor's in the air, as though the wind Had tasted juices from the sweet bircli sprout, — Or lush ambrosial berry, or the rind Nectareous of the red-leafed maple ;--out O' the field come sounds of rustling corn o'er-ripe ; And the far mead answers the lowing kine, With voice of water through its rushy bed ;— In the hushed intervals, soft speaks the pine ; Or breathes the hemlock's minor organ pipe Funereal marches for the Druid dead. 59 '^' m Still do the stragglers of the feathered host Forage about the weedy granary ; The tarnished finch, stripped of its golden boast, Forgets its song for thistles on the lea ; The catbird, like a falling arrow, drops From some dark sentinel fir-tree of the grove. And fills the bushes with its plaintive cry ; Of snow premonitory buntings rove Along the pool-lined road, or on the tops Of fences linger, or on stacks of rye. (^ Urn (,i 1 IC i't 60 Bn Ot>c, The sunflower, heavy with its ripened gold, Nods o'er the fences to late dandelions Shiv'ring outside the garden in the cold, Where the frost bites the hips of eglantines, And nips the thin and serrate ruby leaf, Edging it with a border of thin gold ; — And ever does the paly gloaming borrow From the decreasing daylight, growing old, Hours for the heavy-burdened night; and grief Bears Nature in her cypress tent of sorrow. It seems no time for odes of Hafiz light. Or to recall the tales of fabulous eld ; " Yet smiles fair I.una, lily of the night. As though no tear from her sweet eye had welled For love of Carian Endymion ; — Still joy and hope must live, for the white stars Gather to festival in heaven's plain. As though young Hebe poured from fragrant jars Her famous nectar, tinctured with the sun, And sweetened with the dews and April rain. I Hn Ot>c, 6i VVii.it were the world if change brought endless pain I If marguerites dead ended the summer's joy; If winter foaming on the stormy main Crushed sunny memories of June's employ ! Fancy and Poetry contribute still To mould the feeling to the varying round Of months and flow'rs and empty windy mead ; And o'er the barren wood or l)loomlcss ground Thou yet may'st rove, or by the frozen rill, In musing rapt on Clytemnestra's deed. April, with Ate s laughter in her eyes, Here by the brook has strewn pale marigolds, And spread a summer azure o'er the skies, And called the peeping buds out in the wolds ; And petulant, as soon she chilled the plain Into a pallid and a withered death ; — Here have I heard the first sun-melted song Dissolve into the warming air; the breath Of Proserpine, diffused in breeze and rain, Has wafted me of joys a smiling throng. P 1' 62 Bii o^c. And ev'ry rustling morning found new nests ; New flow'rs, new leaves, danced to the wind's soft tune ; On bourgeoning boughs the birds their love- swelled breasts Preened in the sunny Paradise of June ; The brec/e came u\) with rumours and a tale Of sweet hay sprouting in the meadows green, And sky-blue violets wini^ing in the wood, — Of various budding sights that it had seen ; Of trailing mayflow'rs, fragrant, timid, pale; And arisoemas in a green- striped hood. Across this field I've seen the gleaming plough Part with bright share the ruddy steaming earth ; Alas ! that gelid winter cometh now, Sowing dismay and universal dearth. The spotted starling closed his jeweled wing, Alit upon a bough, and watched his prey ; Or the kingfisher from a springy birch Darted for minnows in the watery way ; — No more the robin, heralding the spring. Wantons in lyrics from his road-side perch. if Bn ©Dc. 63 Soft came the warmer June upon the scene, Freeing white butterflies for frolics hght ; And loosing odours from the bowers green, Sweet as the amorous breath of Cupid's sprite When she did wait him through th' impatient day, Twining rosechaplets for his temples bright, And garlands, dew-sprent, braided like her hair, With which t' imprison luxuriously his might, — So she might t'jase him in her girlish play ; — With such sweet toil she banished half her care. M Like gold may be the flow'ring slopes of France ; And fair may be Sicilian orange groves ; — Yet here I've seen the white-haired daisies dance ; And crowd in hollows, in poor timorous droves, Chased by the tyrannous wind. Oh ! fair to see Were scarlet poppies, deep as autumn stars. Trembling tumultuous in a garden bed, — Or with petunias mixed in crimson bars ; — The mem'ry of the time is borne to me. When trellises were bent with roses red. 64 Xin ODc. The morning sun, fresh from its orient stay, Woke months ago the sparrows in the eaves; And ushered in the pleasure-niurni'ring day With waving woods and the vines' fluttering leaves. Soft did those summer morns blush on these hills, And glisten rosy in each dew-i)earl strung On spiders' threads, fixed to the foliaged spray ; The morning-glories from the low thatch hung, Oped their cool chalices to thirsty bills, And to the bees from clover fields astray. And quiet loomed the soft and shadowy night, Of death presageful with inverted lights ; — Each bird was still ; nor dreamed of green glades briirt; Nor of a thousand song-inspiring sights ; — The star-armed Archer shot across the sky ; Draco, and Vega's added beam serene, — Albireo's twin flame of orange and blue, Promised the ending of the summer green, — That ev'ry lovely flow'r must droop and die, And that sad birds their songs must bid adieu. an o^c. ^5 And as one lingers fondest with the fair That hid farewell ; so, Autumn ! with my rhyme Again to thee I turn, and praise thy hair Of braided gold, rieh in its sunny prime. The year is kindling llaming sacrifiee In the lit tufts of golden-rod ; the stream's Broad, mirr'ring breast catehes the ruddy drops Falling from cardinal blossoms ; in my dreams Of joy e'er beam the asters' I'allas eyes ; And when I tiiink of June my chilled breath stops. ^n No broken jar that doomed Danaides Feed fruitlessly, dost thou, rich Autumn ! fill ; But thou dost pour, embittered by no lees, For Dionysus, honeyed liquors, till The odorous juices of the o'er-ripe grape Flow wanton o'er the wine-wet cup;— methinks I see the god, on vine-wreathed seat, imbibe. His eyes joy lit, of sweet and heady drinks. Till the calm senses his dazed brain forsake. And all his speech is Attic joke and gibe. m 66 Un ©5e. hi Strange suns begin to light the shorter days ; The Indian summer and the harvest moon Give way before the banks of purple haze • Cicadas pipe at eve their shrilly tune, Bucdics of the melancholy time ; — The mower now surveys the low-laid grain, And picks a last belated berry red ; The corn-ricks' shadows lengthen on the plain ;- Soft on the breeze I hear a distant chime Tolling a requiem for th' untimely dead. ii: 67 I i H milage J6ana&. I ASKED the sad-faced, crippled boy the cause of all his woe, "A twelvemonth gone," he answered me, "they laid my mother low. II "And if you've passed beneath the hill whereon the cedars wave, Perhaps you've seen the sweet blue flovv'rs I left upon her grave. m I! "O tell me if the ribbon-grass was growing at her feet ; I hid a bunch of it that night beside the village street. I 1 IW I 68 B IDillaflc JGallat). "A stone lies o'er the hollow, and I often wander there ; I never saw such grass before ; 't was somewhat like her hair. hi " I heard my father, sir, one day, before he went away, Boast that her looks were fair as those of any Queen of May. fi " Sir ! have you seen the May Queens pass ; because, since mother's gone, I think I'd like to see them j do they drive at eve or dawn? *' Do companies of soldiers carry banners o'er their heads ? That's how they say the angels spread their wings above our beds. "And when I've lain on summer nights among the rows of corn, I've heard a rustling, but I've feared to look about till morn. B Dillaflc JCallaO. " I am not good as mother 69 sleep ;- was ; sometimes I fear to Sir ..when they told her she would die, I did not 5 her weep. see "She simply n,oved the tangled curl,, that strayed about my brow, And kissed me twiee,-her kiss was eold,-and said, Hell watch you now.' " ^^''°™ *d ^'"^ ""=■••" I'y ' He,' sir ? When I asked her she was still ; Nor did the mournful strangers say who bore her to the hill. 'Oh, oft I feel like weeping, but I would not wish her hen . Beeause the loaves are hard to get, and winters now are drear. m li " T-U, ^he hops are no more planted in the fields of kind- man Hood; And so she could not earn this year the load of maple wood. ii i 70 B IDillaflc :fi3alla&. " Oh, now the tall blue flow'rs have come ; to-morrow I shall go, And plant the asters by her head ; and speak to her below." "One friend thou hast, sweet boy, alway, and she is more to thee I'han heav'n and earth. Farewell ! " I said, and left him tearfully. 11^ 71 3Late Butumn. Behold ! the maize fields set their pennons free, In this rich golden ending of the year ; And asters bloom upon the sunny lea, Smiling as sweet as May, though leaves turn sere. Deep in the dell, the gentle turtle-head Lifts up its tiny spire of pearly bells. And cardinals ring out a richer chime ;— A last brave bee seeks in the gentians'cells A farewell taste of honeyed spring, for dead Is all the clover on its fragrant bed ;— And bloomless rose vines o'er the trellis climb. -J !■■ Xatc Butumtt. Sometimes across the still and cheerless night, The farewells of the flocks are softly heard, As to the warm savannahs they take flight, Following the sad and tuneful mocking-bird. And numerous winds are murm'ring sudden loss, Like cries for Hylas through the Mysian land ; Or doleful chords on Grecian citherns played By tearful maidens of a funeral band. Of all the wealth of Autumn now is left But that to wound the memory ; bereft Is he who wanders in this barren glade. No more I linger in the Lydian wood, And wait Silenos by each dell and spring ; No more the gloaming seems or warm or good. When ev'rything of joy has taken wing. I e'en despair of Hellas in my pain ; I walk an endless line of cypress shade ; I wreck i ion the tossing coast of night, When ev'rything of loveliness light made Dissolves into the cold swift autumn rain, That sweeps interminably o'er the plain, And leaves the dying world in piteous blight. %atc Butuinn, 73 The reaper Winter cometh on apace, And gleaneth all the wealth of golden-rod, And parsley wild of timid peaceful face- Cutting the summer from the close shorn sod. The miser-wind plucks now the last pale leaf From the poor bough that treasured it in hope;— The chilling mists unroll their purple folds, Leaving the outcast through the wilds to grope, Or fall beneath a silent, hopeless grief, Gathered to ruin with the forsaken sheaf, And all the wreckage of the blasted wolds. 1 1 ill 74 jfroin BSrc to /IDoni. m 1 i O'erflowing with the molten sun The buttercups, when day is done, Bend to the glowing west ; Bermudan lily-trumpets to Its lips the Ev'ning puts, and through Their throats a message blest Sounds to the sleepy world : " Sweet dreams and peace ! " Rest till the shadows cease." All through the stilly hours White lilies droop, tearful with dews, to Povv'rs Of Nature praying, like a nun That supplicates the pitying Virgin-One. Then comes the rosy morn, with song Flooding each copse and valleys long ; And dogbanes in a fragrant dell Tinkle each pink-lined bell. 75 /TOotber anb Son. Mother of a piteous fate ! Bearing one unknown ; Standing by the night-dimmed gate, Far from glory's throne ; Through the long years we will wait ; We can live alone. Wand'rer in Elysium ! Saddest of the throng, Spirits pitying to thee come ; Wafts by blessed song ; — Yet I see thee, meek and dumb, As thou hopest long. 1 ■ il 76 /IRotbcr a^^ Son. On love's burning altars I Scented fuel heap ; — P'rom thy blest and radiant sky, Watch me as I weep ; Satisfied my soul shall fly Where we tryst shall keep. Sometime I shall cleave the veil, Shooting like a star; Breathlr^-^, swift, expectant, pale. Watch me from afar Ride on love's transporting gale. High o'er earth's cold bar. O'er, the tears that used to flow ; Merged at last in bliss ; What felicity to know Fate had led to this : Thou'lt maternally bestow An immortal kiss. 77 Sunset. VVhkre purple, jagged peaks uplift Their heads, I watched the sunset drift ; And all the glorious day. I saw the shattered shafts of gold ; The swift-descending Eve unfold Its star-s[)rent mantle gay, And in the cedar groves a glow diffused. Of Life's chill eve I mused. When one red wavering light Shot up, a sentinel of night ; And licho and the oak-woods black, Hill unto hill, the watchword answered back ; While mutt'rings ominous increased ; And blustrous winds, from caves released. Rushed to fell conflict overhead, Shouting : *«The day is dead." II I m\ 78 Zo a imatcrfaU. A silv'ry sheen against a dark brown steep; From far thou ahnost seem'st to leave the skies ; And on a summer's noon ihy foamings keep In ever-dancing glamour, all the dyes \ ». ! That ever laid the lily's cup with gold ; Or flushed in fall the amarantus' ciieek ; Or stole into the popi)ies' hearts, that fold. At eve, their arms about their heads, and seek To rock themselves to sleep before the dews Distil their nect'rous liquors, for they fear That they might drink, and thereby surely lose The pow'r to wake at morning, and to hear I 79 ^•^ a Vaatcrfall. The prelude fai-.i o. , ist bird's song, that falls From poplar's to,. And various colors ray, And weave a texture rarer than the walls Of Ottoman seraglios quaint display. The pendent, odorif'rous wild rose sips Thy shooting spray ; and vermeil, rich and lush,- The beads of water glitt'ring on its lips, — The sense it half bewitches in the brush Of its bedewy petals on the mouth. Beyond the turbulence and endless din, Thy polished, steel-blue current, in the south, Seems motionless, all like a glassy lin ; Yet peacefully maintains its onward way, Through channels smooth ; along a flow'r-sprent shore ; — Nor ever dreams thy stream, the half-born day It flowed from gloomy Snow-lake's shallows hoar. It , 8o H Sonnet of tbe MooO, ■1- -' ]t 'II Oft have I lingered through the peaceful eve Within the wood, where sighed the clematis, That plciysome breezes ever clasp and kiss ; And been too happy the quiet glade to leave ; — And fondly thought I've seen the shy nymphs weave Pale dewy flow'rets for their wanton hair, That fluttered o'er their rosy shoulders bare ; And sometimes one of love would sweetly grieve; — And then a sudden sound harmonic burst. Which startled all the coyish maids at first ; It only was a loose-stringed harp that fell Against their heap of chaplets tremblingly; — And when they vanished from the lonely dell, Faint winds brought back their cac'enced melody. 8i mmx to tbe (B05 Of mature. Father of mercies ! from whose bounteous hand We er.ch receive a satisfying store; Thee, who dost deck with flow'rs this sunny land Our hearts with rapture fining, we adore. For not alone for thine own pleasure thou Dost scatter o'er the hills the grazing herds. But thou dost send us for the gleamy plough The trusty ox ; and for our joy, the birds. Dark Autumn goes and Winter, like white Death, Succeeds, and binds the earth in gelid ice; i- V 8: 1b\?mn to tbc 0oC» of IFlatuic Yet thou art faithful, for Spring's balmy breath, At thy command, undoes the frigid vice. Again, the vault of heav'n seems on fire ; The hillsides smoke ; the heat dries up the streams ; — Then Hiou dost speak, praised by th' accordant choir, And genial show'rs soothe th' earth in peace''ul dreams. Nature doth thee acknovdedyie, for she waits Upon thy word, t' adora the branch with buds ; And thou dost warn lier early, when the gates Will loose the blasts and inundnting floods. The woodland choir that tunes i^s song for thee. From thee receives direction to retreat; For suon their downy nests, hung on the tree, Will totter y/here the reign of Death's com[)lete. How oft at ev'ning on a daisied hill We've stood, and glad surveyed *:he scene around j All vocal was the mead ; the dancing rill Rejoiced and flung its pearl-show'rs on the ground. Ibgmn to tbe God of ittature. 8^ No more could forests still their music cjuitc ; In rhythmic wavings they their joy expressed ;- The slumb'rous pines upon the shadowy height, With all surrounding Nature, called thee «' Ijlest." (1 mmmm 84 Xlbc JSallaC) ot tbc (BarDener, I LINGERED thoughtfuUy at eve before two graven stones ; And watched th swaying pines, and trembled at tlie north-wind's moans. I gazed upon the silent clouds that drifted o'er the sky; And I was lonely till a voice said slowly : " All must die." It was the £ ged gardener ; he soothed my saddened mood ; "Sir," said he, "often too I come, and gentle sorrows brood. i I Cbc JBallaD of tbc GarDcncr. 85 "That humble stone is o'er the spot where an old comrade's laid ; He w jrked beside me year by year ; his bed 't was I that made. " He was a melancholy man ; he often wandered here, And by that other stone he shed the sweet and chas- tened tear. "She was a favored child of wealth; a trav'llcr through this town ; The treach'rous fever took her when the leaves were turning brown. he led " And many lonely years had passed before the old man came ; He asked to work along with me ; I knew not all his name. " For many a year agone the maiden's grave looked drear and lone ; My comrade seemed to love to come, and ponder by the stone. ill] Hi !.' 86 Cbc :ii3allaD of tbc GarOcncr. u "She had a pretty name, sir; it was Jennie Con- stance Dale ; And he would often speak it, as though memory could fail. " And though his arm grew feeble, by her grave he raised this tree, — A weeping birch, — that he might hear the sparrow's threnody. " For ofi when ev'ning's yellow light flooded the dreamy west, The song that in the branches woke gave his sad spirit rest ; "And, often in the June-time, in his poor weak arras he'd bring 'fhe flow'rs t)wt called the butterfiies ; he loved tbeir poising wing " Above her peacrful re5;tii2^-i>la!ce ; a;rid pi-nsive tbas he spent The slow and quiet - r days ; the fall days came and went ; ^bc J6alla5 of the 0arcVncr. 87 "And one sad morn of autumn, when the bell was tolling low, We laid him, as he asked us once, there where the thick vines grow. ''A dirge swelled in the cedars, and f heard a mono- tone Of grief sing through the birch's boughs, as if the tree had known." -Good man," I said, 'Svas she the beauteous maid of ' Berkely Race ; ' And was your friend that village bm-, who loved above his place?" f« JI^^^^^H HK 88 3\x ll^ovenibcv. Give me the suns of November days, The speeding hours and the hast'ning shades ; Find me a wood, where the slanting rays Engold the leaves in the maple glades. Summer has gone, with its bud and bloom ; The apple boughs in the dusk swing bare; Autumn leaves, drifting to earth, entomb The eglantine and the maiden hair. Purple and saffron and gray and dun, The ev'ning skies in the West recede ; Night and the stars have their reign begun ; 'I'hc northern winds from their caves are freed. irtll )Evcntl^c. Skies may be azure in other lands ; And tropic winds softer perfumes hold ; Climes may be mellow where other sands, By warmer seas, on the shores are rolled. Woods may be vocal with richer notes, Or threnodies of the Nightingales ; Hill-sides may echo to splendid throats, That never sound o'er our northern dales. 89 ! i i ! Give me, withal, our wide northern skies ; The rustling leaves in the forest ways ; Storms, that the snow-bunting's warning cries Presage with grief in November days. um lEventtDe. O Angel of Peace ! come, soothe me to sleep. Beside the rill where the hare-bells nod ; And waken me not, till eve's dew-drops keep, In little globes the bright stars of God. 7 90 Cecily's OarJ)en. O (lARDEN of delights ! tell me If thou hast seen my Cecily? Between the path and stone-wall brown Lingers the fragrance of her gown. Unheeded, did she pass the rose That blows within thy fiow'ry close ; Or did she never deign a look Upon the lilies in thy brook ? If her fair eyes were dimmed with tears, Then foolish were my jealous fears ; — And, tell me ! by the trysting seat. Did she lament love's doublings sweet ? Ccclhye Garden. Cons[)'re with nie, bright blissful scene ! To sing her praise. Ye soft slopes green ! Obsequio. s receive her tread ; Ye brandies ! shade her overhead. And if, cool mirr'ring pools ! she looks For lilies in your crystal nooks, Her soft-curved form ; her radiant eyes, Retain for my admiring sighs. 91 And odorous gales ! o'er flowers blowing ; Relucent streams ! o'er shallows flowing, Combine to swell her matchless fame, By whispering her gentle name. ^A .o^\^ vQ <^ /^ %^^' ^ m m oma V s IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 'M 1.0 2.8 I.I ■ 5 '""= •^ m Vi m.r. 12 •- ^ M PA IIM i.8 1.25 -L4. 1111.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation / o 23 WEM MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (716) P72-4503 •S" '£? %' . IReclaimeb. 'T IS sweet to have no greater thing to do Than wander on the shore, pleased by the breeze That blows o'er gardens of th' Hesperides, Dropping its balmy freights and odours new ; Or by the hedge to stray, where briars strew Their pink-edged petals on the flow'ring grass, Lading with scents the zephyrs as they pass ; And so to waste the lazy noon hour through, And fading day ; or watch the sedges wave Good-byes to ocean hurrying to its cave. But when I saw the Ev'ning, like a nun. Wrap the dun shades about its pensive brow ; And kiss the crossed rays of the dying sun, I, too, a votary, took Nature's vow. '••» tin « 93 I l{ /ICiorn in arca^l?. The peerless lark's reveille rings The daylight in ; a brown thrush sings Its matin hymn serene, — Notes pure as those that fall from some Famed goddess' harp, when choirs are dumb To list, and Muses lean VVond'iing upon .heir instruments. The reed Of Pan across the mead I hear ; and pastoral pipes Swell joyously. A wood-sprite wipes Its sleepy eyes, rising with smiles,— For Fancy still h's ev'ning dreams beguiles With visits of fair nymphs, blue-eyed. Behold the cove where naiads tied Their boat to bending lilies white, When they strayed here at night ! pi 94 „ .1 iiii an Hutuinn Mtn&. pi A TRUCE with cares and labours ! I have cried ; And traced the sweet winds to the barley field, To v/atch the strong browned reapers, joyous wield Their curved and twinkling sickles side by side. And where the harvest valley opened wide, A breeze fell down among the rip'ning grain, Driving the golden waves across the plain, And dipping in the nooks, where fieldlarks hide. Brave with its gambol, still it went until It waved the loosestrifes' ribbons o'er the hill, And spilled the dazzling sunset from the flow'rs. Within a forest, then it hid at night ; To waken when the morning filled the bow'rs With fragrance, ind with floods of violet light. 95 XTbe /IDocJUno*.Bir&. I KNOW a place where sings the mocking-bird ; Blithe spendthrift of melodious, flute-like notes ;- Enrapt, he listens to his song that floats Adown the echoing breeze. At night t heard His rich erotics, as of harps, wind-stirred ; Or sadder nocturnes to the chequered moon, From drowsy bushes where the roses swoon, Pure as those other songs "without a word." O rover in savannahs clad with vines ; Beside the rivers ; through the orange trees ; Wand'rer among the nodding columbines ! Art thou akin to sunshine; to this breeze? We who have heard thy songs, believe thy soul Was first enthrilled where stellar harm'nies roll. ■SPP 96 I Hn Hrca^ian /IDorniuQ. 1; I' 1- Auroral splendours scintillate About the morning's cloudy gate ; And mists of purple hue Ascend the silver-threaded vale, And scent the spicy-swelling gale With odours of the dew. Awake, arise ! ye nymphs, from beds of fern ; And watch the rose fires burn About each flow'ry copse ; — Sprinkle the chaste ambrosial drops In honour of your deity. Ye drowsy dryads ! sleeping 'neath yon tree, Have ye no music festival ; No measure weird or magical. With which to charm your wild-wood gay, — And praise the blushing day ? 1, ! 1 '. h I hi 97 TLbc IRealm of Xov>e. The silv'ry chimes were : "nging in the tow'r ; O'er aspen leaves in ariose breathings soft The winds were flowing; in the vine-clad loft The doves were whisp'ring love; and in a bow'r, Which ev'ry zephyr hid in frequent show'r Of white rose leaves, a thrush his peerless song Did flute, the fancy wafting rapt along. No marvel if it was the lover's hour. "Sweet fair," he sighed, "view the enchanted scene ; Immortal Love lives in this realm serene ;— Here let us dwell, and for each other wreathe Green chaplets ; or with roses, wet with dew, Pale garlands for thy neck I'll twine; or breathe Into thine ardent ear some love tale new." 98 ilri TUntil tbe Eve. Knee-deep in lush red clover-field, I heard the village church bells pealed ; But love and melancholy, And that gentler folly Of questing Nature, led me on, — From the cloud-ushered roseate dawn, By devious paths hung over by the lark. And whip-poor-wills at dark. I lost a thrush note true, Pellucid as the dropping dew ; And where a rivulet delayed In glassy pools, a vesper-sparrow made My spirit grieve with its sad strain. Yearning for love and spring again, — Then fell the shadowy Ev'ning calm. Steeping our souls in balm. It- I I \, I; I 99 : 1 mitbin tbe Moo^ I WANDERED idly in a wood ; Within .1 little vale I stood, And thought I heard the far Faint tinkling of the fairy bells. Clintonias twinkled in dim dells, — Pale as the morning star. A streamlet, colored with ambrosial show'rs That dripped through blue-flow'red bow'rs,- Trickled through mosses green. And once I've spied, or thought I've seen, Far down this leafy forest glade ; Weary with gamboling, a coy nymph- maid,— Who to her cheeks a soft leaf cool. Plucked from an azure mirr'ring pool, With many sweet complainings pressed ; Sighing herself to rest. i i I lOO MiQbt /IDu3luas. Itl !|: 1) 1; • [f< Oft in the night I've sought a dev/y bank, And drawn my knees up close and dropped my head, Aweary with woild-vieings ; and instead I've mused about the stars in glittering rank Broad circling far above me ; then, all blank H .s grown my environment ; the ghostly birch I would not see ; nor on his briar-rose perch Could hear the love-lorn thrush ; — I sweetly sank Serene into deep dreaming. Or of Keats I've thought ; or that my love with me, on seats Soft-cushioned, in some gondola has lolled, (While we have sailed upon a turquoise sea, About great Venice alabaster-walled) And in the rose-light ta'en Life's plight from me. [1; m lOI H IRural QowQ. Oh, give me the hour, when the old church tow'r Leans gray 'gainst the golden west ; When birds on the wing, and the robins, sing ; When all the glad world is blest. Oh, waft me away, gentle winds ! today, In dreams, to the old homestead ; Where streams thread the hill, and the meadow-rill Sings soft down its pebbly bed ; Where tall grasses wave, and the brooklets lave The violets nodding blue ; Where marigolds look in the mirr'ring brook, All tinctured a golden hue ; ! . , !l, I02 B 'Rural Song. ! Where cool shadows fall from the ivied wall, And bells of the snowdrop swing ; Where rnayflowers trail 'neath the mossy rail, And purple hepat'cas spring. Oh, sound me the cry of the jay flying by, — The jay in its plumage blue, — Oh, give me a sight of the skies at night, And stars peering shyly through. Sing too of the lawns, when the morning dawns, Where sweet yellow cowslips bloom ;-^ Claytonias praise, in your vernal lays. And garland the winter's tomb ! 103 Tlbc UXSoovieb Captipe. Amid the mockery of silk-hung walls She wanders desolate ; and curiously Each day/>ent o'er the mirror on her knee, (When e'en the echoing lute her spirit palls, And there's no music in the plashing falls) She sees the roses pale in each fair cheek ; And her sweet brow becoming week by week More like a lily cold. About the halls Anon she lingers, studying arabesques ; Or stealthily she opes the cedarn desks, Perfumed with spices and inlaid with gold, To search for keys her casement to unlock. Oft through the lattices her eyes behold The citron trees in bloom beside the walk ; c r^^ I' ,) I 104 (Tbe /I6oor(0b Captive. H ; !'■ ■ > Or on the limitless and tossing sea, She views the white-sailed argosies go by ; A quick and passioned tear floods her deep eye, For fiom some mast her lord's flag flutters free. How he would make the base Castilian knee, Did he but know that she did languish here. In covert prisonment ! And sometimes near The scene the buhlbuhi singeth gloriously. Enamoured of the dew-dipped op'ning rose ; And round her tow'r the fragrant lemon blows. Then worn with grief she falls to sleep, and dreams Of freedom and the balmy summer skies ; Or follows dark-eyed spirits of the streams Through emerald deeps, to Love's long Paradise. 1r I05 Bn ©rient ffbai^,, I WATCH :d her tie her sandals on With ribbands soft as her dark hair, The while her robe of spotless lawn Moved to the toyings of the air. And when her languorous eye-lids fell,— With purest pearl tints softly dyed,— The dimpled smiles on her cheeks tell What thoughts in her sweet memory hide. From rounded shoulder to the tips Of tapering fingers, pinkly bright ; And in the curve of her rose lips ; Nature had lavished line and light. 8 ^ (it* i I t- . , V s .!• 1 06 »n Orient ^aid. A zone with sapphires sprinkled o'er Caught up the flowings of her gown ; And pendent, jewelled charms she wore, To her warm bosom reaching down. !■: I wondered if on lavender ; Or silken pillows, perfume-filled ; Or bed of aromatic fir, She slept through nights, by love's dreams stilled. I07 Ube Connoisseur, Of all the wines, if I had my choice, I'd quaff a rare Falernian draught ; Of all the fruits that the heart rejoice, I'd take the figs of Khoras-Taft. Of fine vase work, give me King-te-Tchin ; Of flow'rs, select the orchis race ; Of glasses, blow me a goblet thin, Venetian art of wondrous grace. In music, chant me a Lydian strain. Like Philomel's pellucid notes That rise to heav'n, when the spring's cold rain Has silenced less melodious throats. Old prints, and songs of the good old days ; Old statues, plate, Etruscan ware ; Old tapestry; gems; Ben Jonson's plays, Delight the musing connoisseur. tffppl i.'v M ■l . C i y.l 1 08 1^ , 1:. Mbere tbe Xeaves Britt. I LAID me down upon a sedge-fringed bank ; Anear a sliding rivulet that longed To win the dimpling river, where, all dank, The water-oats in soughing comp'nies thronged. I stretched me out and watched the teal ducks rise. Explore the south and flap their level flight ; The world was lonelier; the cooling skies Grew heavy with the load of darkling night. Unclasped and icy-pearled and jew'U'd with frost. The winter's yoke hung o'er the bare brown land;- I saw th' untimely sunset's glory crossed With shadows of a purple-vested band. Wbctc tbe %cnve6 Drift. 109 A ruby-colored fleet of maple leaves Adrift across the shimm'ring shallow blew ; A crackling twig the silence breaks ; and grieves A vesper sparrow all the forest through. Now beaded eglantines and prickly burrs Of burdened chestnut trees, make autumn rich ; Above the maple wood a goshawk whirs In dizzy soaring and in sleepy pitch. The ev'ning breeze drives up the vap'rous rack Behind the hemiocks dense; the north, star- crowned, Unleashes all the gaunt and baying pack Of wind-wolves fell, by three green seasons bound. The pale and sickle moon, with sheaf of stars. Begins her foray in the heav'nly fields Of constellated circling orbs ; and bars Of stellar wealth show how the harvest yields. O Nature-mother, rock us in thy lap ; And let us wake in some true world beyond ! For ev'rything of beauty meets mishap In this poor earth ; the lilies of the pond fpp ill f i I $ '< , I r m ^ no mbevc tbc Xcaves Drift. Have perished Junes ago ; the violets Were buried when the veeries came in May ; And now the piping wood-thrush half forgets That old love song he sang one April day. :|i, tit JBvcn^XLimc. In meadows deep with hay, I see The reapers' steel flash sparkh"ngly ; And bobolinks at play ; — And in the iris-bordered coves Frail lilies, shaded by the groves, Moor all the golden day. I watch the Flicker rise on sun-lit wings High where a pewee sings, — Apollo's messenger To the lone piper of the fir. Where rolling western hills look like Waves of aerial seas, the sunsets strike ; And wrecking, dye the clouds with gold. Moon-wheeled, Eve's chariot is rolled On through the high, star-spangled doors, To Night's dark murm'rous shores. l^wf^ 1 12 si ■M '*BpoUo! ©ramus!" Hail ! Phoebus Apollo ! with argent rays bright ; Thou son of Latona, that bringest the light ; From Orient dawn to the Occident Night, The shadow-robed legions of Pluto, in flight, Disperse from thy might. II O thou, with the golden lyre, singing the morn ; Thy coming attended with harmonies born In fair Delos isle, where the nightingale lorn. Her love ditty sings from the rose-scented thorn, And fields of new corn ! "apollo! Oramus!" '13 To Cynthus' dread mountain our virgins shall go, With lotus-dressed tresses and vestments of snow ; Grant, god ! ever-glorious with silver-tipp'd bow, The needs of thy suppliant vestals to know ! Thy oracles show ! In Rhodos' famed isle of the clarified air. Where sleep drops her balm on the forehead of care ; And morn wakes the slumb'rer with melodies rare; Thy priestesses raise to thee sweet-chanted prayer ; And incense-gifts bear. Then, Phoebus ! Protector ! and Dian the chaste ! Twin gods of our temple in Tauris' lone waste; Behold on thy altars our sacrifice placed ; Thy fane with sweet storax, and myrtle wreaths, graced ; To succour us, haste !