IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) // 4. 7i 1.0 I.I 11.25 ■ 50 "^" if ■;£ 12.0 2.5 IM IMUu 1.8 U IIIIII.6 V] signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 A partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. ' errata d to e pelure, :on d n 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 c DON t THE CANADIAN LYRE; BY J. R. RAMSAY. HAMILTON, C. W.: DONNELLEY, PRINTER, WHITE'S STONE BLOCK, KINO STREET, 18 5 9, GE^ bein not ■i i Gentle Reader, I think these verses of mine worthy of being read. If I had been of a different opinion I would not have published them. I may value them too highly — you can judge ; but remember — '* Feeling, Thought, and Fancy be Gentle sister graces three : If these prove averse to me They will punish,— pardon Ye !" (< - 1 1 THE CANADIAN LYRE. i< THE GROWTH OF WHAT IS EXCELLENT IS SLOW." So slow - The growth of what is excellent ; so hard T' obtain perfection in this nether world — Cowpbr. Time travels on, year after year unfolding New fates, and dates, and destinies to man, Imprinting truths, to such as are beholding. On every stage and date, from rear to van. But take a comprehensive view of nations. Their passions, and the channels where they flow, The greatest truth among times revelations Is, the " growth of what is excellent is slow." What eloquence and truth seem worse • ban wasted, On every sensual, mammon-grasping mind, How many schemes for man's improvement blasted, How often meanness leaves pure worth behind. Behold I the height to which fair science reaches, And lo ! the depth brutality can go. Does with a ten-fold force of reason teach us That " the growth of what is excellent., is slow." 8 THE CANADIAN LYRE. ( { Even nature, if allowed without intrusion, From any source save unperverted art, To work her ways, would quicken the conclusion Of pure perfection in its fullest part ; But from " posterity to generation" Perverted, sensual, vicious passions flow — Vice, like foul weeds, needs little cultivation, Whilst " the growth of what is excellent is slow." The loftiest souls that walk the world are broken By unrewarded toil ; and that must be One desolating cause, one bitter token Of almost all the misery we see "When gazing round upon mankind, to gather Some heaven-directed laborers. But, lo ! They're few as sunbeams in tempestuous weather, For '^ the growth of what is excellent is slow." \ "i I ^ i' - J Millions of cycles must have past, preparing The world, e'er Eden's gorgeous garden bloomed ; Thousands have fall'n, Galileo-like, for daring To teach men truth, by heavenly light illumed ; The best have not succeeded best, but perished Like brands hurled out upon the wintry snow ; And thousands more will fall who should be cherished, For " the growth of what is excellent is slow." Regretted joys, lost hopes, a future darkened— These are the phases of our destiny : The holiest hopes to which our hearts have hearkened, Like fairest flowers, are first to fade away. ^. ■■) THE CANADIAN LYRE. 9 usion [1, is slow. rokeii 1) I 4 I iV 1 1 jather, 1 low." 1 loomed ; ig raed ; i hed 1 now ; ^ berished, low." t l— 1 arkened, 'l!.^ The gladdest hours of life most deeply grieve us, And leave most pain, we know not why, but know That those we put most faith in first deceive us, For ^' the growth of what is excellent is slow." Yet, be not bafllcd, thou who hast the yearning For that which is essentially divine ; Be not discouraged at the slow returning Of all thine earnest efforts, nor repine ; The talent God has given thee is strengthened While battling with adversity, altho' The distance from thine object may seem lengthened. For " the growth of what is excellent is slow." Remember, 'tis at niffht the stars are shining : In rugged regions richest fruitage thrives : The furnace of affliction is refining. And double talent is his share who strives ; Among life's roses thorns are thickly blended, And in the tempest only shines the bow. Even while the shades are far o'er fate extended, For '*the growth of what is excellent is slow." -♦•^ 10 THE CANADIAN LYRE. \ii SONG TO THE ABSENT ONE. There are roses by the river, there is light upon the lea There is beauty blooming ever, there is every thing but thee; And my heart is like a mirror, where thy smiles forever shine, Eclipsing many an error that would otherwise be mine. There are changes in the season, there are changes in the sea, Yet I hope there is no reason to believe there's change in thee. Thy smile is like the Sabbath day upon the sunny hills, Thy beauty like the rainbow ray, thy laughter like the rills, Thy footstep like the dancing rain among the thirsty flowers, Thy kindness like the eglantine that twines the bloom- ing bowers. There are changes in the season, and in every thing I see. Oh I I hope there is no reason to believe there's change in thee. Lo, in every smiling blossom there is much that might beguile, But t t Fortl Contfl • a ' There t Oh, I 1] < Last 1 i Th( The I 1 Of My SI An But s ^ Ha Myjc i| As Since Its TUB CANADIAN LYRE. 11 the lea > ling but 3 forever But the heart within my bosom knows no other than thy smile, For thine influence around me, however grave or gay, Contains the spell that bound me, and will not pass away ; There are changes in the season, there are changes on the lea. Oh, I hope there is no reason to believe there's change in thee. 3e mine, nges in J change my hills, like the e thirsty > bloom- thing T 3 change Eit might ■-•#♦- 1 i ■Y, I i THE OLD NUMBER FOUR PLOW. I Air — '* The Old Oaken Bucket. J) Last time I returned to my *' father's plantation," The elm-shaded landscape was vividly green, The breezes were fill'd with the sweet exhalation Of flowers and song, and the sky was serene. My spirit rejoiced in the beauties of summer. And fancy took flights, unattempted before ; But suddenly sank when I saw a new comer. Had taken the place of the old Number Four. My joy was dispelled by the shadows of sorrow. As all the reverses arose to my view. Since I steered the old plow, with its share like an arrow, Its iron-bound beam, and its handles of blue. 12 THE CANADIAN LYRB. How oft in the fields when the crimson of morning, Made golden the mist on night's shadowy shore, As the wood-robin welcomed the day light returning, I turned the brown furrows with old Number Four And all the day blest with the thrilling reflection, That soon as the eventide slowly drew near, I would clasp to my breast with a gush of affection, My auburn haired Mary, the tenderly dear, And wander with her, in my rapture a sharer, 'Neath a roseate sky round earth's flow'ry floor, Till earth seem'd to fade, and the heavens come nearer The field that was furrowed with old Number Four. Tl Tl Perhaps, after lill, 'tis this rose of our spirits. Plucked out of life's wormwood, yet gathered in vain, That gives the old plow such a halo of merits, Being mingled with joys that return not again. But my heart fondly turns from life's wearisome changes, And beats for the beauty that blest it before, And loves to contemplate, wherever it ranges, The rapture connected with old Number Four. < ■ -M. -«••- THE CANADIAN LYRE. 13 -ning, hore, iturning, >er Pour. ion, iction, aor, le nearer Four. I in vain, ■n. hanges, • 'ft NOVEMBER— A DIRGE. The old oak tree is dying, The storm-tanned branch of centuries is bare, The bark is riven from the trunk, and lying Distant and near ; The last fair robe of summer leaves is flying, Withered and sear. Departing wild birds gather On the high branches, e'er they haste away» Singing their farewell to the frigid ether, And fading day, To sport no more o'er withered mead or heather. No longer gay. And sullenly assuming His throne, to vindicate the summer past, Stern Autumn stops the thunder's distant booming And lightning's blast ; While from the north the dreary clouds are coming, Sombre and vast. The little cricket's singing. Sounds lonely in the crisp and yellow leaves, Like by-gone tones of tenderness up-bringing A thought that grieves : A bell upon a ruined turret ringing On Sabbath eves. 3 ri 14 THE CANADIAN LYRE. The *' tempest loving raven," Pilot of storms across the silent sky, Soars loftily along the heaving heaven. With doleful cry, Ut'ring lone dirges. Thistle-beards are driven Where the winds sigh. And yet here is a flower Still lingering, by the changing season spared, And alone bird within a leafless bower — Two friends, who dared To share the shadows of misfortune's hour, Though unprepared. ■^•^ \ SONG. Written by request, to the tune " Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled," and sung by Charles Milne, at Burns' birth-day Anniver- sary, Jan. 25th, 1858. Bard of scenes where heroes shine, Bard of love and song divine, Bard of *' Days of Auld Lang Syne," The first of Scotia's bards ; Nations off'er up to thee, A meed to thy nativity, A birth-day song, and why not we ? The best our heart affords. A 'vf THE CANADIAN LYRE. 15 ■I Thy spirit poured itself in song, In words that to the heart belong, Impassioned, eloquent, and strong, Even as thy rock-built hills ; Gems of genius sent to bless, Gleams of heart-felt happiness, Sent to dissipate distress. With soul delighting thrills. When scorned by ''purse-proud'' earth-born knaves Thy song a nevr incentive gives, <' A man's a man for a' that" lives Triumphant over time ; Watch-word thro' all years to be, Beacon-light of history, Hear our tribute unto thee, And thine immortal rhyme. Hear our humble song of praise, Hear the tribute we would raise, Tho' not like thy love-passioned lays, Which thrill each bosom's cord. Bard where Freedom's heroes shine, Bard of scenes and songs divine, Bard of love and " Auld Lang Syne," Immortal Scotia's bard. *y. j Mg.'....V«B»liPH 16 THE CANADIAN LYRE. TO THE FALLS ABOVE DUNDAS. f: r How long hast thou roll'd from the rock, In a shadier channel to flow ? Dost thou hasten away from the sunbeams that mock, To hide thy dark billows below ? Those billows that cradled my bark, In the days of my childhood, by thee — Then purely transparent — are sullen and dark, And hasten away to the sea. The bright sunny scenes of my youth, I gladly again would renew. For my dreams of the future were pleasant and smooth, On thy billowy bosom of blue. When I welcomed thy waters each morn, As they came by the old forest trees. Rejoicing in light, and the chorus'd return Of the birds, and the oderous breeze. But time and thy billowy course Have been a far journey since then, Driven onward by fate's irresistible force, Till here I have met thee again. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 17 And thy wave was a turbulent wave, Since I walked by thy waters before, And thou seek'st to be free from the tempests that rave, And be calmed by the ocean's broad shore. But thy hopes are delusive, for thou Wilt find there's no rest for thee there, Where the tempests will rise on the night's stormy brow, And drive thy dark waves in the air. Thou'rt happier now than the days The future will open to thee, If they dawn to behold the wild tempests that raise Their war with thy waves in the sea. No song of the wild bird is there, No breeze scenting flowers appear, With their odorous dews, and no trees waving fair, With the various fruits of the year. But the surf, the wild sea-weed, the sand. And the caves where the dark shadows stay, May wait to receive, in some far distant land, Thy waters, and waste them away. Then^l3ear, as the past thou hast borne, Endure, if thou canst not enjoy, And thou may'st wake on some gilded morn To find all those shadows gone by. I;> 18 THE CANADIAN LYRE. Though thy wave be a turbulent wave, Even down from thy fountain's first pour, Rejoice in the light where the forest trees wave, And the song of the birds on thy shore. -«•»- THE SPINNING WHEEL. I * Here is the vale, the elm-tree, and the oak, All leaf- crowned still ; The old log barn ! Ah, it was here awoke My heart's first thrill ; Here was life's sunniest spot— love's fond low tone- Hope's bliss made real — All ruled by one whose slaves were hearts, whose throne A spinning wheel. ' Twas on the wheat-floor of this same old barn, One morning, she Sat me to hold a skein of tangled yarn, And tangled me. THB CANADIAN LYRE. 19 Yes, it was here the Fairy came to spin, And I to reel, That long, long thread from love's deep-tangled skein, Bound fate's strange wheel. All the perfection sixteen Junes could shed Was her sweet share ; Soft auburn glories clustered round her head : Ah ! she was fair ; Yet did not seem to know vhe thread she spun With so much zeal. Was the beginning of a finer one By that same wheel. Tho' I have been afar my heart will pay A reverence still, Even to that old neglected barn of gray Beside the hill — The lane towards the grove, whose path of dust Trees did conceal — The place we met, no witness near but just Her and her wheel. -»#»- I'V 1? « I i 20 TUB CANADIAN LYRE. FAREWELL— A SONG. Th Th H( Tl f Wit i; in ?Vf ifii i^t Air — Afton Water, There is many a heart broken by being too true ; There is many a word spoken that shades all life's view. Lone sounds left to wither and sadden the mind In the path we come hither, far spreading behind. Alas, that the day has departed so soon, With the glory of May from the garden of June ; The green leaf has gone from the frost-withered bough, There is shade on the lone sounding waters below. I look up the road, by the still, shaded grove, Towards the abode of my desolate love ; For my bosom will yearn to be happy with thee, But thou'lt never return to our trysting tree. A shadow is taking the light from the hill, My spirit is aching, and lonely, and chill ; So changes to sorrow the joy of the soul. But fate's bitter arrows we cannot control. I hear of thy praise in the halls of the wise, And fear lest the rays of fame's roseate skies May leave thee, e'er long, like my dream that is o'er, Since I learned that love's song means be happy no more. H 1 THE CANADIAN LYRE. 21 The music is ended, the rapture has fled, The fragrance ascended, the blossom is dead ; Henceforth by life's river no roses recline, Thy pathway forever is parted from mine. [V. -••►■ "'TIS BETTER NOT TO KNOW.'' TO R. R. D. h, ! A I Who ever formed great plans in youth Of mighty things to d(^ — Of wisdom, fortune, fame and power, To aid the good and true ; Who ever wished to bless his race — To raise the poor and low : Such patriot hearts have felt some pains 'Tis better not to know. Ye fortune-fattened sons of wealth. Ye bearded brainless blades. Who snub all honest laboring men Because they live by trades. Be certain of your station, since Life's fortunes ebb and flow ; And there's misery, too, midst mammon's joys 'Tis better not to know. r 22 THE CANADIAN LYRE. Didst ever woo a beauteous maid Who would not smile on thee ; Thy bosom blindly hoping, still ** Refusing to be free," Until some rival baffled all, And " spoiled thy sport ?" If so, Thou art acquainted with soMe things 'Tis better not to know. Has bright temptation lured thee on To its fair gleaming goal, Till harsh remorse to greater sins Goads on thy harrowed soul : Hopes wrecked 'midst rocks along life's stream, All evermore laid low — There are some moments in such scenes 'Tis better not to know. aii! Sin plods all feebly on thro^ fate — Dumb, wretched, tempted, blind — Forbid to hope, and by remorse Forbid to look behind ; Resigned to the uncertainty Of everything but woe. And some dark, boding future pains 'Tis better not to know. Tumultuous passions surge the soul, And fitful visions flash — Grief-chilled and fever-scorched by turns 'Neath pain's all-torturing lash, I', THE CANADIAN LYRE. 23 Desiring death, if but for change, Yet dreading hence to go, ** For in that sleep what dreams may come" 'Tis better not to know. For in that dim futurity — All hazy, lone and far, Upon whose threshold Silence sits And holds Death's door ajar For souls to enter at all hours, While from his house none go — There may be secrets hidden there 'Tis better not to know. 1 The longing after hidden lore, The thirst for unknown things ; The fearful yearnings to explore The future's mystic springs ; The blighted happiness, and all — All that we must forego, Tho' want of wisdom pains, perchance 'Tis better not to know. 4 r* But wisdom makes us worthy heaven, And knowledge gives us power ; And holy science floods the soul, As with a golden shower ; And nature's studies speak of Him From whom they brightly flow, Whose lightest joy outweighs those cares 'Tis better not to know. tm» wmmimm 24 THE CANADIAN LYRE. I "if Then let us fathom every truth 'Tis possible to find, To strengthen, bless and beautify Man's all-desiring mind. Earth's lights and shades, and all the stars That soul-exalting glow, Can teaeh to bear the '' numerous ills" 'Tis better not to know. -••♦- isi A SIGH. I TO TILLY. Tis Strange whatever makes us blest Can mar the bliss it gives, By planting in the tender breast The thorn that never leaves. 'Tis strange what gives us most delight Can its own hope destroy. And hurl the spirit from the height Of its unfinished joy. Why has the bosom so much room For bliss, yet grieve ? Ah I why Bo joys, like fragile flowers, bloom To dazzle and to die ? THE CANADIAN LYRE. 25 THE LITTLE FRAME HOUSE AT THE FOOT OF THE HILL. TO M. A. R. How often there comes to the spirit, when lonely, Some picture of beauty, to gladden our toil ; Some rose of wreck'd prospects, left blossoming only 'Midst the thistles and thorns of adversity's soil , And fadelessly fancy retains the reflection, As a wave-mirrored rose bv the side of a rill ; Yet few things return such a sweet recollection As the little frame house at the foot of the hill. There's a meadow of green, with a stream running through it, Where the speckled fish sport, and the birds sing their song In a green grove of elm-trees, that once overgrew it. And fleck'd the blue waters that wander along ; Yet it is not all these that most beauty abides in ; Oh, it is not the mead, with its free, flowing rill, That sweetens remembrance, but her who resides in The little frame house at the foot of the hill. Ill 26 THE CANADIAN LYRE. P*;|i! Her song is as sweet as the song of the robin That sings by the stream, on the still summer eves ; Her heart is the purest that ever did throb in A beautiful breast, for the love it relieves ; Her words are the kindest that ever connected Two fates with that magical sentence, " I will." No wonder my thoughts are so often directed To the little frame house at the foot of the hill. Oh, Sol ! shed the glow of thy beautiful glory ; Rise, mornings of light, and beam evenings of peace ; Come flowers, and come music, and make her life's story A heart full of love, every day to increase. And, oh ! let the choice of her soul be unswerving In that which gives life its most exquisite thrill, For the whole world contains not a heart more deserving Than the little frame house at the foot of the hill. -»••- THE CANADIAN LYRE. 27 i ( THE COMET. re The shades are deep'ning. In the waving grass The evening winds sound lonely as they pass Upon their unseen ways. The forest trees Sway lowly in the everchangeful breeze, With sounds like coming storms. The east reveals The moon rolled up thro' flame-fringed azure fields, Guarded and girt with changing shapes of gloom — Like funerals moving to the silent tomb. High in the west doth wondrous light appear, The spacious splendors of whose unknown sphere Rolls on unchanged forever, with full swoop, Thro' superstition's shades, enkindling up The boundlessness of ignorance ; anon Rushing to realms remotest from the sun — By superstition deem'd th' almighty wrath Of Heaven, sent out upon some doomed world's path, To blight it in its sin-bloom ; or to purge The foulness from lost worlds upon hell's verge, Where the great Ruler of the universe Hurls all the force of his concentered curse. Till writhing wretches, in their brimstone sea, Out-howl the tempests of eternity. Let us '' be still and meditate," for lo ! The skies assume a supernatural glow : An orb of light, the heavens to beautify, If,"! 28 THE CANADIAN LYRE. n r^ " Beams through the night, and burns along the sky," From realms beyond thought's utmost boundry line — Confineless and unlimited — to shine, The verge-lights of the universe ; nor hath The boldest eagle winged that wondrous path. And in the cycles of its absent years How vast the change that on our earth appears. Since last that light upon our planet shone, What lofty spirits have glowed forth and gone : Albyn's soul-thrilling bard, and Albion's light More than eclipse that far-reflected flight ; Each with the magic of his master-mind — Celestial music clothed with words refined — Knew how to quicken, how to quench each thrill, And play upon the human heart at will. In those gone days, upon our healthy hills, There waved no corn, no clover by the rills ; The winds, the oak tree and the Aval nut swayed, The wild rose and the lily graced the shade ; Our streets were wooded paths, whereby the deer Came from the mountains to the waters clear ; The unmolested Indian wandered free O'er the wild hills of his nativity ; The swarthy tribes, to nature's instincts true. Their weapons shaped, and wove the bark canoe. And wooed their sable loves in " auld lang syne," 'Neath the still cedars and the stately pine. Watching with wonder, till the wandering ray Waned dim in undiminished light away. Such thoughts arose whilst gazing on the glow i THE CANADIA.N LYRE. 29 Of heaven's new light, reflecting far, when lo ! The scene was changed. The winds had died away ; The unmoved trees stood by the silent bay ; The moon was hidden by a cloudy band, And intense stillness reigned o'er all the land : A gauze-like haze of circumambient light Illumed the purple landscape's distant height. What sounds arise ? sweet as by angels made, In echoes dying o'er the shore of shade ; Such as the star-choir sang, when heaven's high band Hailed the warm world, fresh from Jehovah's hand. Hear ! the grand anthem swelleth high ! still higher ! Mixed with the measured language of the lyre : I have travelled a road to a farther abode Than thy wondering thoughts can wander ; My career through the sky is so ample and high That the heavens intervening roll under ; The width of my spheres would encompass more years Than the hours of all time rolled together, As I gleam in the light of my musical flight O'er the realms of eternity's ether. O'er the stars that were made when Jehovah arraved Thy planet's first morn with pale fire : O'er each orbit and earth the creator sent forth Through the heavens, since that morning, and prior : O'er the amethyst thrones, and the star-girded zones Of the Ruler of regions sublime ; O-er the forests and streams, and the beautiful beams That come from the colors of time. MMiMi U MM W i il i i ia u i J rl i B H W|i w« i«'" There was light upon the landscape, Where the storm had been severe ; There was light within ray spirit, And in all the atmosphere. Thou didst not say by speaking How much thy heart rejoiced ; But the music of thy silence came Sweet-toned and many-voiced. I saw that thou wert troubled. But more with ecstacy Than sorrow, when made certain Of the love I offered thee. My heart was full of wonder At its unaccustomed thrill. And I left thee till the throbbing Of my spirit would be still. Let storms resume their journey, Let tempests fill the skies, Their shadows cannot darken The splendor of thine eyes; From thy smile of wondrous beauty My spirit gathers power To battle with misfortune, tho' It lasts till life's last hour. THB CANADIAN LYRB. 33 STANZAS. *'OUR VALORS ARE OUR BEST GODS." Don't despise the poor man's pleasure, Ye who bask in fortune's smiles, For your nerve-relaxing leisure May be purchased by his toils — May be bought by labor's painful Years, unlit with smiles of love ; Worthy something less disdainful Than such recompences prove. n There are some whose lives are shaded For some strange especial cause : Often, too, the least degraded — Strict observers of life's laws. We have seen the great in Spirit, Large of heart and "grand in soul," Bound, by duty, to outwear it In some wealthy fool's control. We have found most fragrant sweetness Comes from little heel-crushed flowers Earth's most exquisite completeness Is the work of lowly powers ; ftm mimm^TSi^ Ml- 34 THE CANADIAN LYRE. )' I. ',>»»'•> Those sweet songs with tones heaven blending, Are the wails from woe worn minds ; Reeds before the tempest bending, ''Bruised by life-blighting winds. Every useful innovation. Every science ever taught, All the wealth of every nation. Hardy hands of Labor wrought : By the plow our country's splendor Grows on independant soil. And the foremost to defend her Are the sturdy sons of toil. Earnest workers are the only Moral teachers of mankind ; And their lives are far less lonely Than gross labor-scorners find. Brows with untold raptures beating- Hearts that burn with more than hope — Is their share who with life's fleeting Realjoys and ills must cope. There is nothing under heaven So unarmed for this world's strife, As a lofty passion-driven Spirit, with no aim in life. Don't despise the poor man's pleasure, Ye who sit on fortune's thrones, For your soul-seducing leisure May be gained by unpaid groans. THE CANADIAN LYRE. When the trembling orphan pleadeth Turn not sullenly away : Give the hungry what he needeth — It may be thy turn some day : Don't forget that circumstances Sometimes shade the mightest souls — Those whose works the most entrance u3 'Rose to fame from lowly goals. 35 -»♦>- SONG. Air — The Bride's fareivell. Once thou wouldst have lingered longer, Once, oh ! once thou wouldst not go; Now those feelings have grown stronger, Which, when blighted, bring such wo. Once thou didst rejoice to share it — T'was thy fondness called love forth — Then do thou in pity spare it — Spare the only joy of earth. Who dared say thou wert a rover When thy smiles were mine, oh ! who ? Now, that hope's forever over, Where is any thing that's true : «.«t«i(MMmt*>MriHM«^i.»B«iaM« mmm ! i 36 THE CANADIAN LYRE. ''il Every bliss forever ended, Happiness that seemed secure — Love so delicately blended — All no longer to endure. Of the past should this remind thee, Think not all my pride decayed, Tho' 'twas agony to find thee Less than fancy's love arrayed. Truth's rough hand unrobed the vision, That my transient love had known, And revealed my lost elysian- Idol broken ; glory gone. Lost to me, and lost forever. All life's sunlight, oh! my soul With a cold repulsive quiver, Drinks to dregs truth's bitter bowl Every joy forever ended ; Dreams of bliss I deemed secure ; Love so exquisitely blended ; All no longer to endure. i -»#►■ [urn I THE r»\NADlAN LYRE. 37 A FRAGMENT. \ What phantoms rise and flit along The silent stream of vanished time : Forms grief-subdued and still and pale, As hope transfixed with untold crime. Even now upon my longing sight A well remembered scene appears, Where parted clouds let down the light, Then closed on all the coming years. Among the sun-fields of the West, Where rolls our country's grandest streams, There lived a maiden lovelier far Than fancy's fairest, fondest dreams. Oft, when the sun's descending beams Spread splendors o'er the western sky, We met beneath the blooming thorn And watched the wond'rous glory die. There, in the golden eventide, Beneath the fragrant hawthorn tree, She, whom my spirit deified, Gave all her promised years to me. That sun has set. An unknown grave Is there alone upon the hill, And all the scene is silent, save The vesper of the whip-poor-will. ,|l ^mggm^mmm r 38 TUB CANADIAN LYRE. Behold ! the very hill-side trees Seem mourning o'er that lost sun-glow, And up towards the west their arms Wave in the twilight to and fro. Angels of light who throng the road Thro- Ilinnom's dim lone solitudes, My spirit longs for that aboad Where everlasting stillness broods. C m -•♦^- SONG. I'.ii '.>■>*■ "The warm-hearted grasp of a working man's hand." 'Midst changes and partings 'tis pleasant to find The friends we most value still constant and kind ; Oh 1 sweet the reception that beauty can give With the soul-thrilling pressure that bids hope to live, But the noblest reception that nature has planned Is the warm-hearted grasp of a working man's hand. There is beauty in light, as the rainbow can prove ; There is glory in labor, and rapture in love ; There is valor in peace, and experience in years ; There is power in joy, and a magic in tears ; There is greatness in toil that too few understand, And the warm-hearted grasp of a working man's hand. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 89 Oh ! how piteous that those who do labor's leaat share Are caressed by earth's fools, and preferred by the fair ; And life Vifiar life is to vanity wrecked, That reason would save if allowed to reflect ; But the holiest alliance by love ever fanned Is the warm-hearted grasp of a working man's hand. I ii I I : I i. -t^ SEPTEMBER. Once more the maple leaves begin to strew The walks and streams ; There is a sadness in their transient hue, Like twilight's beams — Rich as the tintings fancy loves to view In Life's fond dreams. We knew that June's green hues from hill and glade Would disappear ; But ah 1 we did not think their time to fade Already here — Behold ! the trees are brilliantly arrayed In Autumn's sere : ywMJW. i wW ' '* ii iin ii KMwwuw 40 THE CANADIAN LYRK. And every June seems shorter in its stay, With all its pride. Before the morning dew has passed away, 'Tis eventide. Wo watch the flowers appear— another day And they have died. ■i>'' ■'if !•■»» So pass we, one by one, health-flushed, hope-fired, In manhood's prime, At any hour by desolate Death required, In his dim clime : Millions of figures transiently attired Marching through time. We missed the rose's fragrance from the air, When in our walks ; We sought them where thy grew, but found naught there. Save some lone stalks, Some bright blue flowrets and a scanty share Of hollyhocks. §;l Dark clouds arrange their shadows round the hill — On every gale Leaps forth the yellow leaves— the whip-poor-will Has left the vale. Long sable clouds of blackbirds,'singing shrill, i Slow southward sail. t\^ THE CANADIAN LYRE. The aweful majesty of storms will come, And blight the green ; And all the grand array of summer bloom Be no more seen : Each day contains the universal doom Of "what has been.'' 41 -♦•^ BURNS. All hail to the birth-day that dawned on thy being— A nation's best gift blest her bosom that morn : The generous glow of thy genius far-seeing, Of nobleness, boldness, and manliness born. Tho' the cloud of adversity gathered around thee, And fortune seemed pinioned by poverty's chain, Their Hinnom-like hopelessness fail'd to confound thee All chains for thy spirit were welded in vain. Tho' cramped by obscurity's low occupation. It seemed but to"quicken thine intellect strong- It served but to make thee the earth's admiration, The glory and boast of a nation of song. m ii 42 THE CANADIAN LYRE. By the lofty Ben Lomond in ether projecting His cavernous crags where the cold breezes moan — By the beautiful Ayr in its bosom reflecting The sun,moon and stars, as they shine or have shone: Thy genius was quickened, enraptured, reposing Where fancies ecstatic at evening arise ; From grandeur and beauty to mortals disclosing Celestial reflections and heavenly dies. Bequeathing mankind what no time or detraction Or truth-testing changes can ever destroy — A soul-soothing essence, a balm for dejection, A tender assurance of innocent joy. 'W 1^! Thy songs have a power to strengthen the spirit, To dissipate gloom in life's desolate hours ; What doubles the rapture of Cupid's quick merit Like the might of thy music's most mistical powers. On the alter of Beauty exhaustless devotion Outpouring in favour of virtue and love : All eloquent teachings of tender emotion, How hard is the heart that thy tones cannot move. The lays of thy heart cannot fail to achieve The highest position a nation can raise j Their heart-woven customs rejoiced to receive Their saviour from changes that sadden their grace. ae: irs. ve. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 43 tee. For the strength of t>y soul seized the subjects around And made thy creations posterity's praise, [thee, 'Till the nations who gaze would rejoice to have crown- ed thee With the palm branch of peace and the laurel's green bays. And the might of thy passionate mind could not slum- But soared in the scenes of delight and despair ;[ber, All wraped in the rapture of hope's happy number, Or wand'ring oppressed on the banks of the Ayr. How often those dreams that delight in the distance Are wofully marred when adversity's force Stops the feeling's fond flow with a sullen resistance Like the stream's wave rolled back by the storm from its course. Yet it seemed of thy nature to gild life with glory— With fancy to fashion what was not to be— Uphoarding each hope and encouraging story That painted a future from misery free. Light of the days that are ours no longer; Remnant of rapture departed for aye ; Still grows the strength of thine influence stronger, Gathering power as years pass away. Time cannot extinguish the light of thy genius, By nature conferred to ennoble mankind ; An antedote sent to exalt and to wean us From folly's allurements that trammal the mind. 44 THE CANADIAN LYRE. In the "Temple of fame*' the gre tFergusson slumbers, Where Campbell recorded a praiseworthy name, Where Cherubim chaunt aesthetical numbers, But whose fame can equal the light of thy fame ? -•♦»- WE PARTED BY THE FOUNTAIN. We parted by the fountain where The lofty maples grow; Their falling foliage filled the air And flecked the stream below. •■»)' The waters by the whitened walls,- Bright glancing rolled away, Thro' scenes this solitude recalls Of many a fairer day. And I must never meet thee more This side the sullen grave ; Our grief extends beyond the shore Of time's tumultuous wave. I did not know, till thou wert dead, How lonely life could be — How dark the shadow that is shed Across the unknown sea. rs, THE CANADIAN LYRE. The sunniest flower that scents the air, Bright on the dewy bough, Is not more transiently fair. Or beautiful, than thou. The flowers are bent where thou did'st tread, So recently, and fill The air with scent ; but thou art dead. Thy pulse forever still. And oh ! we /eel too much to weep To know the time has come That thou art in thy last long sleep, "The slumber of the tomb." Ye beams of beauty that have been From lights celestial born, Whilst passing skyward, may have seen The spirit that we mourn. Bright as the glowing star appears In evening's spangled zone, Whose tender influence comes and cheers The shade around us thrown. 45 *; :»' !;,; m i4*H 46 THE CANADIAN LYRE. %l\ SWINE. While to their lowly d ome The full-fed swine return with evening home; Compell'd, reluctant, to their several sties With din, obstreperous, and ungrateful cries. Pope's Odessey. Behold the hog ! Who has not heard the praise Of all the birds that sing, or beasts that graze ? Yet, strange neglect, we seldom hear a word In praise of pork, or bacon, ham or lard. Why should we show so much ingratitude To those whose flesh is universal food ? Is this an ancient grudge remembered still 'Gainst Saten's refuge running down the hill ? Why blame our modern hogs for sins extinct? Save in some few to our own species linked, Some perpendicular porkers, men in shape. Who meanly rush for every office gap, Nerve-bent on gain — the power of grasping more — With unremitting toil till life is o'er : Employing arts would make even Satan blush. And every pig of principle cry "tj-sh ! We live the life our lowly nature suits, He who does less is beastlier than the brutes.'' Since this same human does such singular things We should not blame the hog but him who sings ; it!' THE CANADIAN LYRE. But truth will triumph, and it ever should, As pounded glass will sparkle tho' in mud. The hog shall have his due. Come lofty muse Grant them the fame their fates so long refuse ; Come sprightly visions ! Retribution come ! All things that sigh in song or blush in bloom. The bullfrog croaking in the deep mill-dam, Whose smothered thunders break the evening calm, The cow-bell tinkling in the twilight shade ; The wond'rous coloring on the landscape laid ; The golden fruit, upon the green sward spread, From fertile boughs, by fragrant breezes shed ; The perfumed air, the rose-cloud high and still, The stream bound vale, the lonely whip-poor-will. Whose vespers vibrate down the visted aisles, Where parting day on pensive evening smiles. All shapes, and shades, of slighted swine, appear ! Each with his knife-docked tail, or half-slit ear, Slow saunt'ring down the lane, with muddy heels. To snuff the fragrance from the buck-wheat fields ; Or carrying straw, before an autumn storm, To keep thy cosy resting places warm ; Or grunting, restless, round the stacks of straw. When chilly winds are easterly and raw. Come and confute your foes and let them see Who is the most to blame themselves or thee. Use arguments consistent with your wrongs. Speak of pork-profit, and the cruel tongs Wontenly heated to a white-heat glow 47 ^i i 'I 48 THE CANADIAN LYBE, liilil;' I' :l! ■f t ^h To singe the tail of Slick's immortal sow. * Appeal to reason, and if none remains, Appeal to appetite, there all have brains. They come ! they come ! Ye gormands raise your eyes > See double rows of sausages arise. From ham and eggs the fragrant steam curls wavy— From smashed potatoes waiting for the gravy. Sweet saliva-exciting elixir How you can make the hungry stomach stir. Behold I the dough-nuts — many a boy can tell How old St. Nicholas made his sock-heels swell,* Ye feast- supplying swine! if there should be A famine we would learn to value thee. Great commerce, scorning paltry views of cast, Floats bacon loads along the "watery waste" To dicker with for what is needed home, Or to supply the sailors as they roam Thro' far ojQf isles in oriental seas. Where bright flowers bloom in fadeless fragrancies : (Oh the fields ! the fields, the sunny fields of spring, Where all the day the birds and insects sing) With richest store her barques re-cross the main And sighing beauty learn's to smile again. 'Tis said, and truly, that our food contains, The various properties of various brains — Byron called bacon ''amitory food" Hence wond'rous influence for bad or good However this may be, one thing is sure, U *See Slicks nature and human nature. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 49 )s; That to the "good and pure all things arc pure.'" Some hide-bound blunderers of a pur-blind scliool, Who think th' omniverous animal man a fool. Maintain the blest millennium soon would i]^re(.a This purse-mad world i^man would eat no moat — That earth would be quick-purged from all distross, And brotherly love come by the first express : Yet, they contend, with arguments refined, "A healthy body makes a healthy mind" — This last great truth life teaches every hour, That temperance give us health and health g'lves power: Hence gormand and self-starver both we bluuie For health, and life, and temperance are the s;ime. No universal rule will suit all cases. Our stomachs differ as our fates or faces. 'Tis not in eating part, or eating all, Will purify our morals, heart or gall : How meat makes mind no mortal known cun tell, And since we in such stupid ignorance dwell, Even let it rest with our uncertain sins 'Till proved where pork-mind ends, or beefs begins. And almost any creed a man can choose Will leave his mind one-sided in its views. Especially when looking at th' unblest Who sin outside the sect that he loves best. A moderate use of all things under heaven, Is the best precept that the learned have given. Not so the dram ; one univerisal curse Sends its devotees to the lonesome hearse :l 1 50 THE CANADIAN LYRE. ■l!jl ''t J'JI We leave the argument on reason's shelf — Let every stomach civilize itself. ''Our health consists in temperance alone" Which means, eat some of all, not all of one. But Mr. Bull, Lord John, would suffer most Keenly, deprived of his diurnal roast. One beefless week would shade Great Britain's bloom And probably blacken hist'ry years to come. Their warriors could not fight, nor sailors sail — All their internal mechanism fail — But give them beef, half done, and I engage Lord John will fold his arms and smile at Russian rage. In every possible clime where food is found, The hungry porkers graze or root the ground : 'Neath bowery banyan trees, or towery palms Persistently he cultivates his hams : As persevering and prolific still As Scotia's sons, thriving in good or ill. — But when the season wanes towards the fall, Then comes the saddest, bloodiest sight of all : The big fat barrow, in his sty of straw, Must die — 'tis life's inevitable law. The long knife lets the life-blood from his breast, Or the quick rifle gives his spirit rest ; Sad fate but certain, let him rest in peace. And let the big boys sop his bacon grease. Hale lads, hard laboring in the Autumn air, Require a huge amount of healthy fare ; Else they will sally forth beneath the moon To roast the corn, or slay the sly racoon. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 51 )m ge. i — Now the same pots that boiled hia nibs of corn, His pea and pumpkin provender at morn, Contains the boiling flood to scald his hair, Kre from the scaffold hangs his bacon bare. No more for him to root the flowery mead, Nor come with up-curled narrative to feed. No more to stand, the barn-yard bars outside, Squealing for entrance at the eventide. No more to husk the yellow corn for him In fine October, when the days are dim, Yet beautiful in haziness, and still. And happy as a hungry swine at swill. —Who has not seen, on Indian summer days, A youthful party husking yellow maize ? When golden Autumn comes with copious horn To crown the furrows with abundant corn ; When rosy Sol rolls eastern night away, And pearly dews gleam in the early day ; When heaps of pumpkins gild the yellow yard. For future pies, with pasty made of lard ; When thistle beards triumphant ride the breeze, And golden sunbeams kindle golden trees ; Then rosy, romping girls and boys agree To help each other at the husking bee. There Laughter, too, comes "holding both his sides'^ And often thence are chosen future brides : The joy quick-thrilling, and the general cheer, When blushing beauty finds a ruby ear ; The modest maiden hangs her head to find The tender symbol, and her lover kind : 61 THE CANADIAN LYRI. m Slyly refusing that he should redeem The forfeit-pledge, with many a stifled scream- Pretended poutinga over stolen kisses, From make-believe-resisting rosy Misses. Oh ! early gladness ! by whatever name We call thee, thou art holier far than fame, Or all the joys that visit us, in vain, Among the passing years of hardening pain. -••^ ( A SKETCH. .»^' 'f^^'" ,H*' To W. H. M' E. To gaze on the future from youth it appears What the heart seldom finds it acquainted with years : Youth longs for more days and age dreads to be old, And each seems to each what they never behold. If hope has selected the path we would go, And fancy has added its exquisite glow ; Then all that can brighten youth's future is there With a sumptuous supply for our friends, and to spare. But it often turns out to be barren and chill As the wind-driven sands on a frost-withered hill. With a prospect so drear that the hours to come Must wear the impression of shadow and gloom. !i il, THE CANADIAN LYRE. 53 r PS: e. Then away with misfortune, let memory praise The blue skies that canopied happier days, The bird-chaunting meadows, meandering streams, Resplendant in dew or the even-tide beams. Those Eden-like landscapes I seem to behold, And stray once again where wo formerly strolled ; And listen again, as we listened before, To the sounds of delight by each billow-curved shore; Where breeze-scenting hawthornes and alder-trees l&vc Their leaves in the stream, with its cool glancing wave, Where the breeze-bended pine, and the cedar trees bend Their bows as a screen when the tempests descend : Where the musical wild birds all cosily find A secret retreat from the storm, if inclined ; Where the hazel and grape clusters grow by the wall ; And the glorious sun brightly shines over all. When we sailed down the river that peacefully rolled Thro' green-waving cornfields of russet and gold, Towards the horizon of azure and grsen — From the morning's first rays to the sun's setting scene. Where evening comes forth on her pinions of light, Reflecting her smiles on the forest's crowned height, As if to reward them for rising above The vale, where the shades of obscurity move ; Then vanishes down to the gates of the west. In clouds of Vermillion all gorgeously dressed, .1'' 54 THE CANADIAN LYRE. Like the blush of a farewell, too warmly expressed, Disclosing some secret we rather would rest. When we sailed down youth's time-stream " this pros- pect at last," We said "for its beauty was never surpassed ;" But one gentle view with its june-deepened green Was yet more delightful then all we had seen. ' r 'I The snowy flocks grazed on the green shady hill ; The little lambs lept by the billowy rill; The wild deer came down from the forest to drink And rest from their race by the brilliant brink. M' ^^;> .ii»»' The blush-tinted peach blossoms silently gave Their scent to the air and themselves to the wave ; But the scene to imagine, ah I who would presume, Or her who eclipsed all its beautiful bloom? Or the quickening pleasure, amounting to pain, That we felt not before and may never again. When we saw from the river that peacefully glides, The sunny retreat where Remembrance resides. Oh ! the days of the childhood of Tirza were there, And the holiest enjoyments a bosom can bear; Let wanderers enjoy all the future can give, The earliest impressions are longest to live. And hard is the heart that can coldly refuse To gaze upon all that remembrance renews. IS- ■I \ THE CANADIAN LYRE. 55 When the joys that have been, and far more than will be, Delighted the days we shall never more see. The' long since I saw th-.m in memory I view Those scenes rolling seasons but change to renew, Where the wild winds of winter may wither in vain, Since memory makes them all blossom again. And time's shady change rolling year after year But makes those impressions more vividly clear; As the shades of a dark cloud rolled over the hill, Makes a beautiful landscape more exquisite still. Mi THE WANDERER'S RETURN. Dedicated to C. R. M. At that calm season when September days Sheds o'er the vales a vague empurpled haze. When every leaf, and flower, and shrub, and tree, Seem musing on their own dim destiny — Their wondrous beauty, silently sublime, Yielding to the strange influence of time : In those green glades where living lustres tinge The fruitful boughs, and transient splendors fringe Each forest edge with golden light and shade, What glory robes the forests when they fade. I 56 THE CANADIAN LYRE. ■ 1'.! i Ml f. :i ■ r '. ^»ii' Clothed in the flush of Autumn's pensive sere, The mountiiin summits undefined appear ; O'er whose broad sides the untamed Indian trod, Free as the blasts round his unfixed abode, Till pale-faced foes, with thirsty averice fiU'd, In their brave breasts a baleful fire instill'd; Gave foul disease to Beauty, undefiled Ere their embrace, and on the ruin smiled. IIow fade the forest wanderers ! no more Is seen tho birch canoe upon our shore. Their very graves are desecrated now ; Their restless bones are broken by the plow ; Their fields are furrowed, their wild fowl have flown, Their deer dispersed, their ancient glory gone : Save when the remnant of the race returns To vie^\ the ruins of his fathers' urns. No tombstone greets him, with its reverend grace, No mossy mantle o'er their burial place. Spread oat by time to screen death's nakedness, And make the grief to the beholder less. The white man's village in his homestead stands, The home of strangers spoils his hunting lands : Upon the hills the halls of pomp appear ; Sounds, strange to him, rise in the atmosphere. Where rests his sable eye there meets its range The cold reception of all cruel change ; The stern assurance that the white man's might Out-leaps his own ambition's darkened height; Nor this alone, his unsuspicious breast Knew not the cunning of his pale-faced guest, J THE CANADIAN LYRE. sr J Until the serpent he essayed to wariii Had wrought its sable benefactor harm ; Then soothed his fears with promises most fair, Drugged him with draughts whose dreams produce despair; Made glad his heart with artificial joy, And bought his birth-right for a gilded toy. With pretexts knavish, to produce his fall, And, Jacob-like, take his possessions all. Nor roused him till his foes were doubly strong — Fit cause they gave him to resent his wrong. How waked he from the dream ? alas ! to find His race dispersed like ''stubble" by the wind. The dram-dream gone, remorse remained to goad His roused up spirit in its downward road. Surely those wilds could be redeemed from waste Nor bo '^^ gain indelibly disgraced. Ah ! ■ J re ever dawns in his dark breast A patriot's hope, 'tis born to die luiblest. He of the bearing high and lofty form, Keen Eagle glance, grand soul, and passions warm; Unbroken spirit, agile natural grace, A nation's ruin ! with no resting place. Without a country, home, or christian heaven, Unconquered, unsubdued, yet deathward driven : With none to tell his story, none to sing His loves. Ambitions, soul's long-suffering. Say, who would blame them to retaliate ; Torture their foes with fierce ungoverned hate ; Maintain their homes till death, resent their fall, 58 THE CANADIAN LYRE. Revenge their dead at their religion's call? The shades of butchered brethren, sons and sires, Demand revenge I revenge their rest requires; Such is the creed their gore-stained fathers gave, Who would not vindicate a parents grave ? For far, far less do christians curse with war Enlightened lands, the savage does no more. "True they had vices — such as nature's growth — But only the barbarian's — we have both." * Sneer at his savage superstition, ye Whose christian [?] creeds teach more consistency. -^4*- l'.;>' ■11 Part Second. '.»)*' — Returning from the north, some traders found A roll of parchment near an Indian mound. A wail of woe from some lone pris'ner wrung : A song of sorrow by a captive sung. And mingled with his musing there appears Some memory haunter of departed years ; Some fancy dearer than all else, and yet 'Tis not the only reason of regret. — When the heart mourns o'er what it loved in vain And lonely memory seeks the past again : *Byron's Island. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 59 When '%ope deferred" resigns its short-lived reign, Of transient joys, to disappointment's pain ; Ah ! when we find no happiness is found In all the fancies that in youth abound ; Then, quickly following, comes th' accursed crew Of doubts, mistrusting even what is true. — The traders, travelling to their journey's goal. Gave to a fair-haired maid the foundling scroll, "Who read the record, seeming thence to gain The mournful pleasure of a sacred pain. As if a mem'ry woke of something dear. And startled oft the still, reluctant tear — Shed o'er a theme that with the heart began — But thus the story of the wanderer ran : — 'Oh liberty ! the captive's choicest theme, Brightest to those on whom thou wilt not beam, Fairest among the altogether fair. Hear once again, oh ! hear a captive's prayer. Reach out thy hand, rob misery of his prey, Enkindle in my heart hope's heaven-lit ray, Or let me know, what hourly I dread, If vain T plead, as I in vain have plead. For lo ! the anguish of incertitude. Darkens the spirit of the unsubdued ; Round thy fair brow shall fame's green bay leaves twine And many hearts shall love but none like mine. — In this drear region where the frost has birth, And winter prematurely pales the earth, Where storms from out the cloud-caves of the north. Gather new force, and ride triumphant forth, 60 THE CANADIAN LYRE. i'j} r: '■It'* To spend a life : with all the past out-spread — Dark as the future — where young hopes lie dead. Strewn like the withered leaves by autumn strewn, More numerous than the stars about the moon. Oh I bitter contrast to the visions born In my young fancy's future at life's morn. Days of lost joys! time cannot all devour The passing perfume of the heart's first flower. Just nature ! there are moments when our share Of bliss out-tortures absolute despair; Filling the unaccustomed nerves with joy, So full, they cease their natural employ; The spirit, thrilled with rapture so intense, Sickens beneath its overburdening sense. — Beloved and gone : how fair, how more than fair, Was all that nature spread around thee there. When last we parted by the vally road : The fragrant breezes waved the wood-bound flood ; The dewy fields were brilliant to behold, Their fragrant foliage bathed in liquid gold. The waters rolled the verdant hills between. And birds with music gladdened all the green. The pasturing herds in purple clover fed. Or lowing, wandered thro' the waving mead; Where memory, oft forgetting to forget. Still lingers with luxurious regret. — The sun-lit west allured thy maiden gaze, The purest ever turned to heaven in praise : Mild as the evening shone thy pensive eye. Full of the coloring of the wondrous aky ; THE CANADIAN LYRE. 61 Like from the sky light emenated there — Fair as the early morning-lilies are. The glossy curls hung round thy sunay face, Soft as low music's undulating grace. We wandered stream-ward thro' the shady glade, By hesitating joy, often delayed. More light than Sol had ever shed before, Illumed the leafy lanscape's flowery floor. A grove of elm-trees in the distance grew, And heave their gothic branches to the blue ; With twilight avenues between the trees, All shades of green and every shape to please. And where we met, and oft in memory meet, A willow screened the exquisite retreat, Whose leafy branches, when the winds came round, Trailed their long tendrils o'er the dark green ground. Upon the upland lingering lights delayed. And little lambs and little children played ; When we, a youthful glee-cemented band, (The day gone by unconscious of time's sand) To seperate assembled, whilst on high Evening arrived with an all gorgeous sky. !!■ 'i I '. T^A^e Old' T^oH^^ ^a^i-vo-e You remember the days that have long ago faded From hills that stand high in the sun's breezy beams ; 62 THE CANADIAN LYRB. ! it m « .';!! .■I "I'll 11' "1 ■'H' -(^i The flower-spangled shore,by the cedar tree shaded, And the bridge, where we fished in the many- curved streams. You remember the boat, turned all gray by the weather, That often we sailed in to where the grapes grew: "We climbed to the tops of the tall vines together. And watched the waves cradle the old pine canoe. You remember the days when we wand'red unfettered Wherever our fancy or sports did incline ; We hunted the walnuts the Autumn winds scattered, Or gathered the wild grape and swung in the vine. When the wind driven billows the boat nearly stranded, And over the water's the withered leaves flew, You remember our joy when once more safely landed. Returned from the storm with the old pine canoe. But where is the glory ambition projected When gaily we roved o'er the water-bound scene? Where now is the gladness that bright scene re- flected, Ahl where is the boat that we moored on the green? The spirit of change has all silently taken The charm that we loved from the objects we knew ; The beauty has fled, and our friends have forsaken The scenes where we paddled the old pine canoe. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 63 Never again will they come to rejoice us When evening's first sunbeams repose on the hill j Never again will we hear their glad voices, Save when the loved echoes of memory thrill. If we gather once more all the grave has not gathered To join in the joys we were wont to pursue, We could not forget all the sorrows that withered The days since we sailed in the old pine canoe. Farewell to the fair waving valley forever. Farewell to the flowers that grew by the shore, Farewell to the course of the blue-winding river. Farewell to the scenes that can gladden no more. The spring will return, and the season of roses, The forest and valleys their verdure renew, But the friends of those scenes that our memory shows us Have past down time's stream like the old pine canoe. Last days of happiness, tho' I have seen Long years of loneliness extend between This, and those home-joy hours beside the brook — Abandoned for unmerited rebuke. Ill-timed reproof full many a spirit mourns, A hinge on which all future sorrow turns : Words harshly spoken, when the heart is gay. May be the cause of years of agony. At night,ere Cynthia reached her cloud-screen'd height, (All cautiously prepared for secret flight,) .u 64 TUB CANADIAN LYRE. % J'-ity: .;,a 0^ .iHli .!'■ '-■ I stealthy descended the old stair, (How I remember hesitating there) Slowly moved back the bar upon the door, And turned towards the boat beside the shore ; Returned, unlatched, and lingered at the gate, Irresolutely dallying with dim fate : Then, with the boai that had at even been Moored by the margin of the reiidy green, Sailed down the current where the moonlit stream, Outspread in lonely distance, like a dream ; Thro' all the night, beneath a mottled sky, Till the shores faded — slowly passing by Long horizontal waters gleams, and lakes, And mossy logs decayed, in sedgy brakes . And islands — scattered in obscurity, Silent and secret as futurity. Shoreward, among the rocks and reeds I rowed, At that lone hour and clime for an abode To rest from weariness : the rosy morn Began to brighten, and dews adorn The lofty branches of the leafy trees, Hailed by all nature's harp of harmonies — — Upon my sleepy senses seemed to float Fair scenes and forms mixed with each wild-bird's note. Sailing, in dreams, like clouds at parting day — Anon it changed, the boat seemed past away ; I strove for -breath, and still the waves rose higher, And the breath came not. as I did require — Still struggling shoreward, 'woke, a prisoner made, To some red rangers of the forest shade. ^r if? •' i;'-Ji THE CANADIAN LYRB. 65 )te. Their sullen leader scowled thro' many a scar, And blood stained his associates in war. All day we were secreted ; not a sound Was there allowed to break the stillness round. No ripple on the river wave was heard ; By no light breezes were the billows stirred. In moody stillness slow time moved away, Till night arrived robed in his garb of gray. — At that dim hour when shades begin to rise, And mingle with the day's receeding dies ; That hour the whip-poor-will resumes his lay. The dusky wanderers trod their darkened way. By still dense swamp-land paths, too soft to keep Their feet from sinking in morasses deep ; Thro' lonely forests where the pine-tree rears His lofty form, in venerable years. — Anon, at night a furious storm arose, 'Roused us from rest and broke our brief repose. Fierce glitt'ring flames of fork'd lightning flew From cloud to cloud and gilt their dismal hue. Great gloomy shades rose high on either hand, Sheding thick darkness o'er the lurid land. The midnight thunder's sullen echoes boom Above the groaning tempest's boundless gloom. On rushing whirlwinds heaving cloud-waves ride, And surging forests bowed their stately pride. Gaunt ancient pines against each other ground. Shrieking like pain o'er some life- blighting wound ; Their lofty foliage, scathed in ages gone, Ignited, and the flag-like flames that shone. <%? 66 THE CANADIAN LYRE. Illumed a littlo shade : with many a bough, And shivered tree, the quickened elements strew The midnight conflict — transiently illumed, Till heaven and earth seem fired, again engloomed In blacker blackness than the gloomy grave — In surging shades contending tempests rave. Anon 'tis past; a sullen lurid glare Marking its journey tliro' the murky air. Dismal and fiir the light-lit distance frowned, And sullenly receeding thunders sound ; Thro' mingling clouds contending lightnings fly, O'er the grand scenery of the gloomy sky. Again the heavens were changed, and all the scene Transformed itself in beauty most serene ; Mountains of pearl, and cinnabar, and gold, And amethyst, with many a floating fold Around their rugged forms ; while Cynthia made A moving sheen of every tint and shade. Morning arrived at last, all blushing red, Azure and crimson-tinted : clouds were spread O'er all the orient atmosphere, enrolled In splendor, like the Charioteers of old, Who rode before their king — the dewy spray, Like golden rain, made every bough look gay. With rosy lights ; the sunbeams' heavenly hues Lit every leaf and brilliant bough of dews. The very air rejoiced; wild birds did sing No more at rest, but, out upon the wing. Poured forth their songs of gladness, full and free, In every varied tone of melody. m^ # THE CANADIAN LYRE. 67 All irature seemed to live ; each distant hill, Tinged with new sunbeams, grew more gorgeous till They seemed one glittering sea of green and gold, With moving lights and shades around them rolled. Glorious as if Elysium's gates were thrown Spaciously open — so much lustre shone O'er all the landscape — fitting it to be The birth-place of an Immortality. We wandered westward thro' untrodden wilds, By pathless portages and dark defiles. And lo ! at last, when journeyed to the still Green summit of a cedar-shaded hill, There spread a shimmering landscape far below, Bathed in effulgent noontide, all aglow. Far o'er the waters, from their wigwams 'rose Th' encampment-smoke of most inveterate foes. — When from the hills towards the east, the shade A deeper greenness on the landscape laid, An Indian maiden, in her bark canoe, Came o'er the waters of the sunset hue. A path of light her wake appeared to be ; Around her danced the waves admiringly — Brief was her gladness as a lover's dream — A swallow's shadow o'er a sunlit stream : A shadow deeper than departing day Came o'er the warriors as they watched their prey : Appeased revenge illumed their leader's face When she was bound a captive to his race. How strange that fate should send the maiden there, To sacrifice to slaverv one so fair. h '•' 68 THE CANADIAN LYRE. ^;^ ■N' n ^ Are not some persons chosen from the rest To be earth-tortured or supremely blest ? Does not the pages of the past explain That some are chosen o'er the rest to reign? Fate mai/ accord with our capacity To bear, to rule, resist, or to foresee. Youth trusts the bark, but hope will wreck the crew — The same effect by causes ever new. Soon as the boat and bark canoe were manned, All silently at night we left the land. Cohorts of clouds, lit by the moon and mars, Seemed sailing thro'an atmosphere of stars; High in the west the rocky coast upreared, Or gently sloping to the shore appeared: The dark, deep forest, dressed in gloomy green, Sometimes reflected and anon unseen; The tall pine plumes, tossed in the moon's pale beams, Made shifting shades on shimmering water-gleams: Like the dim out-lines of a strange old tale. By superstition told to childhood pale. The Indian maiden's silence sullen seemed, A mute defiance from her dark eyes gleamed. A sound was heard along the shore of shade; An Indian warrior sought his sable maid By their old trysting, at the twilight hour, Nor found her in the boat nor in their bower. Gave speedy chase, by passion's power made strong* Impeteously impelled his boat along; With all the rage of rapture turn'd to wrath When love perceives a rival in his path ; E I I 1 1 M THE CANADIAN LYRE. 69 w — ims, But when the number of his foes he spied Row'd back for aid to gain his sable bride. Ere morn rolled back night's mists, in swift canoes, Th' allied Algonquins, and the stately Soux, Approached and passed in silence, to oppose The farther progress of our coming foes; And hiding in a maple-shaded cape Drove back the few who did not death escape. — A sunny sabbath lit the leafy hills, The verdent shore and tributary rills, When we arrived among the sable band — The lonely dwellers in a forest land. A stately warrior, scared, and eagle-plumed, Their chosen chief, the sole command assumed ; **Dark were his brows, and gloomy to the sight Like clouds, his eyes like meteors of the night." Part Third. Five years, with all their seasons, rolled away — With all their changes in the past to stay; Their summer robes in leafless forests lie Neath winter's ice-bound streams and stormful sky. — An exiled wanderer dwelt those wilds among The victim of remorse, or self- wrought wrong : An alienatea out-cast, lone and drear, Hated and shuned by those esteemed most dear. "His early dreams of good out-stripped the truth And troubled manhood followed baffled youth," Kind, joyous, gentle, sullen or morose, t\l 70 THE CANADIAN LYRE. iO» *" Silent or moody as if all were foes, The cureless victim of a strange distress, Laughing the laugh that is not happiness. Sad songs, and such soliloquies as Crime Holds with his sons, mixed with the mournful rhyme; Of baffled love, that ever-fruitful theme, The blight or bliss of many a Beauty's dream — Composed the musings of his ''busy brain"; Torn by fierce torture, or excessive pain. Not late in years, yet schooled in life's rough ways — His gloomy glee was like the lightning's blaze — Yet on his brow a noble calmness shone ; Resigned regret — ambition's vacant thrown. And oft when musing on some early wrong 'Twould melt his soul to melancholy song ; And in such moments, when his soul was wrung, These were his themes, and those the songs he sung. SONG. 'To feel the mock pleasure the hopeless must feel, And the folly that follows despair. To force hypocritical smiles to conceal The madness that misery must bear. To laugh when the scowl of adversity's gloom Makes the effort a sickening glee ; To pass the quick jest that does scarcely illume, Ere it leaves the way darker to thee. To bear life from torture to torture unblest When health, hopes, and energies fail ; THE CANADIAN LYRE. 71 To view all the future forever o'er cast By the clouds of adversity's gale. To find all the future a burdensome blight, Like a withered tree blasted and sere ; To curse the remembrance that forces to light The picture of all that was dear. To see the bright tints of hope's brilliant sun, Despelled ere the morning is o'er. To feel the cold void of affection undone; And its promise remembered no more. To gaze on all those, with the strength to endure Fate's darkness to come, be my boast ; With nothing to wring from the future to cure, Or compensate all they have cost. Yet, could I set my stricken spirit free. And break those bonds that bind my breast to thee, I would not; time has sanctified the power, Tho' his rough hand razed many an airy tower : There must be shades wherever objects shine. The darkest shadow has a cause divine. The whitest cloud e'er moved o'er mirror-lakes Both a reflection and a shadow makes : The sun of heaven, who paints the summer green, First sheds the light by which his shades are seen. Those gorgeous tints that make the clouds so gay, At eventide, will waste the clouds away. Strange strength ! but let it pass, I must not now •,' 1 .]■ 72 THE OANJLDIAN LYRB. Linger with retrospection, for a vow, An early broken vow, comes back again, And with fresh recollection brings fresh pain SONG. >•!• II fSffl I thought when I beheld thee smile. That thou, at least, wert kind to me ; And that presumption did beguile Some shadows from my memory : And, oh I I pondered on that thought, And hoarded up the pleasing thrill. And shudder now, that all is naught, Tho' thou art fair, and living still ; But what is bitterer I must be Far, far, my bosom's choice, from thee. Alone, or in the multitude That throngs the street, or crowds the hall, Does living memory intrude, To dash its darkness over all. Oh I how the human heart can ache. When strength and tenderness combine, When forced forever to forsake The all that it esteemed divine : Thro' torturing time dragged on to see Changes come over thine and thee And time will drag each dreary day, And change for changes will give room, ( THE CANADIAN LTRE. And gaudy nature will array The landscape in the summer bloom : And, oh! how soon the silent tomb, The gloomy, cold, corroding grave, To which we hasten, may comsume The tenderest feelings that can live Within the breast — but will it be An end of all those thoughts of thee ? Yet do not let my dreary soul Disturb thy gentle bosom's rest ; But let it pass, as shades that roll Across the evanescent west : For tho' my song is like the wave That murmurs when the wreck is o'er, And sounds like clods upon the grave Of one we may behold no more ; It is beyond my wish to be A shadow on a thought of thee. Adieu, my dearest friend, adieu, Since every hope is faded now, Even the soil whereon they grew, Is furrowed by misfortune^s plow. Farewell, oh I fare thee well, and may Thy bosom find that perfect joy That I have sought along life's way. But never found without alloy ; And may thy spirit never be Forced baek as mine has been from thee. 73 I'i ■' i' 74 THE CANADIAN LYRE. "r ■i.; I In life's frail bark upon time's boisterous wave, Where rising storms and rolling tempests rave. But, if in time I ever should behold Dreams realized that I have seen foretold ; If that dim vista that afar appears To wind obscurely thro' the unseen years. Should be made plain, and foes should therein find A record of those visions of the mind That first allured me, then they there may see Those faults were no', .ill to be charged to me. And those who should have shown some sympathy Should such time come, will screen themselves, and say, 'They thought because of my low occupation — That I would never raise from out the station, Where fate saw fit to place my lowly birth.' — I own it seemed most dubious, so much dearth. Such weariness, such wretchedness, such vain Attempts to baftle even bosom-pain. That hope seemed life's last morsel, by despair Begrudgingly doled out to nourish care. And those who smiled to see it, would be pleased But little should they see my soul released. One wretch seemed gladdened, with a joy divine, When mildew, blight, and agony were mine. He tried deception, and succeeded well. But fortune changed, and on his spirit fell The bosom blighting, Bohun Upas breath, Which he would blight with, withering his path. His life is now a weary burden grown With scarcely strength to keep it lingering on. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 75 But if revenge is, as some poets tell, The sweetest morsel ever stewed in hell, I shall fare sumptuously, with some to spare ; But 'tis a luxury I scorn to share. — In expectation's paths I wandered long, Lingering, anon, to let some little song Allure from present pain ; and I have found All that I sought not, thickly strewn around : Even the bark that bore my bliss away Beyond Golgotha, where the shadows lay Upon time's shore, whose dusk'y tombstones saith, *Th' indefinite intelligence of death Is all that here is known,' even there I've traced Part of the wreck that blighted hopes defaced. Then passion threw its agonizing throes Across my soul, with all its withering woes. O'er life's swift stream a furious storm careered, Wild rose the wind, and winged lightnings sered ; The shafts of light showed more of ruin there Than dwells within the boundry of despair. Then came the calm ; oh ! how it does increase The spirit's aching mockery of peace. When fate lets just enough of hope remain To show us what shall never be again. 'J 4 '^H SONG. Where shall I turn those thoughts that yearn For something brighter than has been ? I cannot make the future take V^ 76 THE CANADIAN LYRE. 'il. !':;>? ! ■ "»; A fairer aspect than l^at scene ; That sullen coast, where all was lost, 'Midst clouds that intercept the sun, The quickening powers of happier hours, Gone from me and forever gone. The heavens shone clear when thon wert near, Young splendor, but those days were few, And vanished far within times car, From all save retrospection's view : If that would fade, as hope decayed. Or vanish with all bye-gone bliss, I could o'ercome this sullen gloom, Or meet it with more manliness. Tho' all is lost that once engross'd My aesthetic ecstacy ; Tho' all deceived whom I believed In thought and word from day to day ; Tho' that is past which could have cast A healthier aspect over all Life's coming days, and in its place Hangs disappointment's dreary pall. But to behold the past unroU'd, In the perfection of its powf r. Destroys the bliss I might possess, In this, or in a future hour. But fare thee well ! we must not dwell Amid the blighting gloom of grief. The change that comes may be the tomb's — I only hope'it may be brief. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 77 When waning summer wove a fainter ray, The youth grew pale in death and passed away. He sleeps beneath the pine — the waves sound near — The birds sing there, and purble flowers appear. — The brave strive long ere suffering can destroy, Yet many a heart is left without its joy. How vain the effort to describe despair; None know, till they have borne, what they can bear. The lofty souled, and sensitive, are born To greatest gladness, or more deeply mourn Than vulgar brains can comprehend, or feel, And this lone knowledge leads them to conceal Their nature from gross souls, who disapprove All deeper thoughts than their mean bosoms move ; Some gems in each heart's casket there should be Enshrined forever in its secrecy. And yet to hide the sympathies too deep Will wither them beyond the power to weep ; The seed, when planted deeper than the ray Of Sol to warm, will silently decay. Those whisperings of the heart that crave the ear Must be obeyed, or sorrow's hosts will sere. And oft the mind, however strong to bear, Or to resist, may be diseased by care ; Be rude yet tender, proud, and unsubdued By all save passion, care, or sorrow's brood. — The tears of manhood are not easy shed : Their silent agony the sternest dread. When forced by pain, to turn and gaze away From scenes seen dimly^thro' their misty spray ; ■fl a 78 THE CANADIAN LYRB. t '■■ ' Far o'er the past full many a wreck appears, In realms of wretchedness and ruined years. — When mild September came and gilded o'er The fading leaves, and sered the landscape's floor, An aged Chief and Indian maiden came In search of one whose name she would not name. Hers the wild beauty of a vanished race, The full perfection of all maiden grace. She journeyed, graceful, by the Chieftain's side — Tall thro' long years arose his form of pride. ''Whence are thy footsteps, Many Years, art thou For war or peace, peace sits upon thy brow ?" **We come in peace," the aged chief replied, **The Minto"^ led us where thy waters glide. My race is scattered like the thistle's beard, The valor of my arm hath disappeared — ] The Eagle found the robins young at rest, And stole the tender nestlings from their nest. Until I join in my new hunting joys Their eyes shall ne'er behold mine aged eyes. My feet refuse the chase for this my child — The sweetest flower that blooms is soonest soiled ; The only portion of my race remains In her free spirit, and my aged veins. Storms soon will cease thro' my thin locks to rave, Earth will not long refuse my griefs a grave.'' *'Thy child shall be even as my father's child," Were Wolff replied — tall ruler of the wild. *Great Spirit. fAlgonquin Chief. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 79 *'Our homes flro thine, chief of the years of yore, Till thou art shaded by death's dusky door." — They dwelt apart — yet oft would Sweet Voice* come To learn the wonders of their southern home ; Oft her dark eyes would leave the wampum belt, For Were Wolf wrought, and on Zecanaf melt. One eve, midst Indian summer's silver beams, Zecana fished beside the bending streams ; The mellow twilight's crimson, cloudy, train Moved its vast glory o'er the gaudy plain. The wandering chief, perceiving her alone, Upon the margin of a broad white stone, Came slowly from the water-skirted wild Towards the silent maiden, lone and mild. And lowly spake — "Light of my spirit's day, Thy beauty robs the otter of his pray. The water dwellers do not rest secure From the enticement of Zecana's lure — Thy father's friend, who scorns the captor's wiles; Becomes a captive to Zecana's smiles : The hills that move not in the whirling storm Grow greener when the sun is glancing warm : But turn thee not away, I do not know, When thou art gone, the path that I shall go." *'The little squirrel will oft forget'^ she said, ''The place wherein its sweetest stores are laid. Go to the wigwam of thy heart's first choice ; Make glad the pensive music of Sweet Voice ; *The Algonquin Chiefs first love. fSouthern bird— daughter of Many Years. 80 TDK CANADIAN LYRE. 11 ' ■>'l i r" U'< ft' I'l!'! Soft is her sighing, as the wave that flows, Her cheeks are changing like the fading rose : I looked into her eyes and saw thee there, As with her quills she trims thy mantle rare.^' — ''At morn," he said, ''the moon forgets to gleam ; Mine eyes are dazzled with a brighter beam. The Minto made Zecana very grand ; My heart will never rest without thy hand. Thou art a maid, thy sire may shortly die, My camp is lone, the shadows fill the sky, The flowers all fade, the wintry storms are near, Thou art alone, with none to slay thy deer : Sweet Voice is like a star that cannot stay Before the brightness of a morning ray. The Minto formed thee graceful as the deer — Life will be lonely if thou'art not near." Like the departing sun before a cloud, Zecana's eyes grew dark, her aspect proud. — "Tis well my father's tribe," the maid replied, ''All learned to use the bow, to hunt and ride ; My heart is thankful to my father's friend For all the kindness that his hands extend. Soon as the Minto calls my sire away. My lonely feet must from thy deer-ground stray : And long as streams give fish, or forests give The stately deer, Zecana's days shall live ; For know, her love is in another land — She feels the pressure of a far off hand." — "Bird of the sun, thine ire is misapplied. My spirit sought thee for a warrior's bride ; l\.\ THE CANADIAN LYRE. 81 Thy feet are free to come or go, but stay, Light of the future, turn thee not away. Thy slightest wish command my braves to do, But Were Wolf scorns unwilling love to woo." "I thank thee for thy love," Zecana said, And wended campward as the pathway led. The Chieftain followed, to his own abode ; Within his lonely heart a heavy load. Towards the centre of the village burned The council fire, to which his footsteps turned. His warriors saw the gloom upon his brow And smoked in silence, in a circling row. The raven winged his way towards the west. To his high home in some lone pine's dark crest. Slow sails the dun clouds thro' the darkling sky, Unlit by star or moon, the low winds sigh Among the lofty pine tree's shady boughs. And sullenly the sunless water flows ; The song of the cricket is lone in the shade, And sullen the sound by the night owl made. At length he rose, assumed his bow and spear, His stately form th' antipodes of fear. Out-stretched his hand towards Zecana's hut, And said, "let none among my warriors shut His hand against the strangers, let them see Our hearts are open and our hills are free. And when Zecana's feet pursue the deer Along the mountain side, or river clear. Drive down the herd towards her path, and stay Thine arrows from the game that she may slay. 1 82 THE CANADIAN LYRB. And now the time arrives that we must go To hunt the deer before the falling snow ; Be all prepared.*' Two moons move slow away, And yet the hunters find no deer to slay. And famine came, all ghastly, gaunt and grim ; Strong men grew weak, their hollow eyes grew dim. Old men contended with their sons for food ; And mothers thirsted for their infant's blood. The north poured out it« 3torms, and blighting breath, Till little in the land was left but death. Day after day grew dim and disappeared : Yet not a cloud from the horizon cleared ; A furious storm, surpassing all gone by, Drove downward thro' the midnight-blackened sky. Yet o'er the storm a furious yell arose — The captive maiden's friends burst on her foes, And all that makes men fiendish in war's arts. Burned in their blood and deathward drove their darts; Until the scalping-knives.and spears — grown red I»i many a hungry heart and hoary head — Clave to their hands with gore : it would have been A feast for fiends infernal to have seen. How the storm howled above the yells of war I Anon death's shrieks rose on the tempest's roar. The Chief with his faint few had gone for game, And came not back again when evening came. From far the hunters saw their homes on fire ; O'er hunger's pangs arose their savage ire : Urged by their Chief who quickly gave command; <'The foe is in our home with fire and brand — h. .. f THE CANADIAN LYRE 83 a. Jath, rts; 1 Drive down ray braves, like tempests, unconfined — Strong as the storm and rapid as the wind : Spread desolation thro' the coward throng; Let not one breath their hateful lives prolong." They join the strife — their tortured, to wery forms Swayed back their foes like leaves before the storms A sullen scene of mingled grief and gore, Famine, and fire, and storm, and night, and war. And with them came a stranger, tall and sad, He whom Zecana mourned so long as dead: Among the shades she heard her warrior speak — How rushed the blood from her sad olive cheek ! Love's unexpected thrill — th' enraprtued start Of hope new-driven into her lonely heart — Came with the sweet assurance that the pain Of all his wounds would soon be healed again, And thriird his soul, so seeming cold till now, With that strong joy stern natures only know. Were Wolf beheld their happiness with pain, And turned away to multiply the slain. " Zecana!" feebly spake her father's breath- All feebly trembling on the verge of death — " Lone Moon Beam 1 thou art saved, and I shall be Blest in the land awaiting thee and me: Let him who sought for thee in fad 3d years ; Whose heart has never been the home of fears; Be thy protection in the moons to come, For Many Years ^adea into fairer bloom." " Thou shalt not sink, my sire, in dreamless sleep, This wourjd is only of the flesh, nor deep." 84 THE CANADIAN LYRE. il m ». T. *• The foe use poisoned arrow-points," replied The waning voice of Many Years, and died ; — All mildly passing from her arms away, As rosy Sol rolled up the eastern day. The sable youth, to sooth her grief, Related tales of parted years ; — His life in many a lonely land, And thus regaled her listening ears : " That time I left thee by thy home, To hunt the western mountains o'er, My single strength was overcome By foes upon a far off shore. When sleeping, wearied with the chase, They stole upon my resting place ; They tied their prisoner to a stake, And with hot pincers tore his flesh ; And from the torture-quickened wounds. The red blood rippled down afresh. They scarce could tell that I did live, So stubbornly I bore my wrongs. Save when some fibre vvould not give To the terrible tug of the red-hot tongs. Whan they forced me to gnaw at the burning brands, I said, * ye are women — to a captive foe Ye can give no torture — unloosen my bands. And the deadliest of pains ye shall shortly know : Bring a gun-barrel, heated all red at the breach. And a lesson in death I shall willingly teach.'* • This feat is related by a young warrior who was talten captive by the Pawnees. / t TUB CANADIAN LYRE. 86 nds, V : ptive They granted my wish, 'twas so strange and new, — Then I sprang on my foes, and the foremost slew ; I leap'd in the stream, from the host by the stake, Whilst the arrows flew round me like hail in the lake, Up the opposite shore — thro' the forest, away, — And they followed my trail till the close of the day ; They built them a fire in the still forest land, To rest and to sleep, from the wearisome chase ; — What sound has awakened that sleeping band ? 'Twas a fierce foe approaching their resting place. But they saw him not; and a night-owl's song He made, to allure them to sleep on the heath, Then sprang on their rest, like the lightning's prong. And they passed from life's sleep to the sleep of death. Their scalps were all gathered, and onward I trod To the home of my fathers' — Zecana's abode. But our homes were all burned, and their ashes were blown By the winds where the smouldering brands were thrown. And the bones of the lovely were broken and strewn, For the wild wolf to gnaw 'neath the midnight moon. Then I swore by the shade of my fathers to be Revenged on my foes for their murders, and thee. Now my bosom is calm, for I know that my vow Is redeemed in the land where the red men go. I will make thee a home where the white clouds make Their azure paths o'er the azure lake ; — Wh<>re the southern summers bloom gay in the sun, And ihe moon shines bright when the day is done. 86 THE CANADIAN LYRE. t 'Twill be of the scented cedar-wood, Secure from storms, and richly lined With the glory hues of the humming bird, — With the fox and otter furs combined. And the light of unseen spirits' wings, Shall guard all sorrows from thy path, And teach thee to avoid what brings To the red man the shade of the Minto'i^ wrath. The fawn, and the fish, and the dun-colored deer, The robe of tho bison, the fur of the bear ; All the streams and prairies have scattered around. Or a hunter can find, for thy sake shall be found. When the snow -moons arri^^e, with the obscure days, We will brighten our home with the cedar-wood blaze ; And the sound of the tempest that surges along. Shall sing us asleep with its sullen song." She replied : '* In thy pathway my footsteps shall tread ; If thou hast not a home, I will pillow thy head ; Of the wild bird's feathers thy bed shall be, And my heart shall find rest even watching by thee ; I will work thee a robe with the porcupine's quills. Of the skin of the fawn from the far awav hills." When the spring-time arrived, with its sweetness serene. The flush of its flowers and its garlands of green ; A white birch canoe they unmoored from the shore, And sailed o'er the lake, and I saw them no more. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 87 ■ y8. 56; all le ; iss Part Fourth. " It Is a glorious sight to see What heaven hath don© for this delicious land." Again October's wondrous season wore Rose-tinted leaves along each shady shore ; And all the landscape round the leaf-strewn streams Glowed gcrgeous in the sun's descending beams, Whose mystic lights gleamed down the forest aisles, Gladdened the vales, and on the summits smiles ; And dimly distant, where the day-beams closed On the horizon, rosy clouds reposed — Pale at the zenith, purple, azure, dun. Gold and vermillion, round the glowing sun — Till hands of angels changed each heavenly hue, And wreaths of living cloud-flames rolled in view. Are not such moments to some mortals given, "When leaving earth, to be conveyed to heaven? Lightly upborne on clouds of molten gold, To be in heaven's triumphant ranks enrolled? May such the portion of thy spirit be, When passing to that world prepared for thee. Against the western horizontal light A form appeared, slow winding down the height, Who frequent paused, to view the scene below. Reflecting back the Pun's descending glow ; Lingering in rapture to behold once more All that was dearer than in days of yore. There stood his home beside the bending stream, The white-walled home of many a far off dream, 88 THE CANADIAN LYRE. , \ When life's lone paths grew desolate and cold, And no one sympathised, and none consoled. Along the valley of the village green A river rolled, the verdant hills between ; The wild weeds bending as the waves pursue Their peaceful way, and disappear from view In glowing groves, whose graceful, tinted boughs Bend to the water that beneath them flows, And fleck the green-sward with strange mystic gleams Of the departing day's cerulean beams. No sound arose upon the evening breeze, Filled with the fragrance of the fading trees ; Morn's living harp of song all hushed and still, As rapture pausing o'er a new-born thrill. The gray road wound around the verdant hills, Along the bridge-spanned stream and ridgy rills. By many a nook and green, embayed alcove, Where youth converse on thenies they most approve; Where friends are changed to more than friends; where The crimson clusters in the dazzling dew. [grew Slowly descending by the dusky road He stood before his childhood's chp ed abode. But, lol upon the walls and stepping stone, Time's mantle of green moss was thickly thrown ; The willow was uprooted by the wind *Neath which he played in days to time resigned. And time's companion, change. Oh, Change! what pain Thy foot-pri ts leave upon the breast and brain Of those who do not watch thy quick career, Thy desolation of all ties most dear. i»' 1 THE CANADIAN LYRE. 89 lis ve; here ;rew pain In yearning to return, our heart forgets It never can behold all it regrets. In his forsaken home the wanderer found Old mossy ruins — silence most profound. All that had once conduced to make it home Had passed away ; naught left to grace the gloom Of lonesome desolation ; to his calls None answered, save the echoes from the walls, In mockery of misery; still and lone He stood, 'midst scenes of blighted bliss, unknown. Remorseful memory woke — he turned away To leave the wreck to Time's thick-robed decay — Regardless of his cours(3 — all now was past — There was no hope to wreck, no bliss to blast. A sound, pulse-quickening, rolled along the air ; A song familiar as the face of care To his tried soul ; a well-remembered tune, Shedding strange light o'er all that past too soon ; And, turning from the dusty road, to hear The tender music on the twilight air. He leaned upon a vine clad window bower, Entranc'd by music's most mysterious power. How quick a tone can thrill the heart, or shake The strong or weak. Anon the stranger spake : ** Oh ! sing that song once more, if thou wouldst save A soul, forsaken even by Jie grave; — Once more, once more 1" She turned, continuing still, And saw him standing by the window-sill. Pale, weary, careworn, sorrowful, oppressed, Ab one whose views can nevermore be blessed ; 7 THE CANADIAN LTBE. The tearless victim of the soul's despair, When all life's sorrows seem concenter'd there ; And from the record of the captive's lays She sang the song of scenes of other days.* Soon as the strain was stilled, and luna's rays Spread o'er the vales a pale, uncertain haze. The maiden minstrel came with the request That the pale stranger should partake of rest ; By kindness urged, yet curious to see Who he, who made the strange request, could be. Quick as she spake he knew the tender voice, The thrilling tones of his young heart's first choice. Back from despair to happiness was hurled The heart that lately wished to leave the world, And danced delighted in the breast of joy So lately lingering on in agony. We cannot now describe (nor is it best) The meeting : let the reader paint the rest. ii* •'•••- ♦ See page 61. TKF CANADIAN LYRE. 91 TIME. RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO F. J. QRENNEY, BRANTFORD. F riend, in those days when fancy seemed to rain R OSes along life's road, but just begun ; A h I when the future promised to contain N o purpose but to manufacture fun, K een was our relish for each youthful glee — G ems in hope's glittering casket yet to be. R ich joys of youth how much we must forego E re we can learn to value tliee aright ; N o later storms can form so fair a bow, N or does fond faith brave disappointment's blight, E xcept in dreams; but friend* unchanged, I pray Y ou to receive my unassuming lay. My uncouth harp awake, and let thy tones Revive once more the meditative strain ; Around is many a theme, and let the zones Of our remembrance vegetate again ; Altho* the fruit is bitter, still it loans A passing antidote ""or present pain, A warning to the clay-clogged, undefined, Illimitable, ever-craving mind. Again the sun rolls down the verge of heaven, With the last glory of ihe by-gone year, Bearing time onward. Lo ! what hosts have striven .Tn vain for hope to gladden its career ; l(^: 92 THB CANADIAN LYRE. 'Tis gone and to its chronicles is given The world's progression retroprade and sere, With all that cheers or chills to that dim clime Where every doubting ends ; but whf»re, oh ! Time. Where is the centre of thy vast dominions, The storehouse of the years that roll away, Beneath the shadow of thy waving pinions, From those who fain would bribe thee to delay f Where dost thou mark the moments of earth's minions. Who pass from thee towards the fading day ? Thou Alpha and Omega of sublime — Thou stern avenger of each hidden crime. 41 Thou rearest thy shadows on the western hills, When night descends upon his dusky throne; Thou knowest the number of our pulse when still, And silently in sleep thy streams have flown ; Thou rollest heaven's systems onward to fulfil Their destinies ; their days are thine alone ; Thou hast the tally of the tides, and lo ! Thou knowest the number of the stars that glow. And yet earth's loftiest intellects are lost In the far windings of thine airy hallp, Beyond those regions where the starry host Or comet's orbed immensity appals The soul, whilst searching for that mystic coast Where all must hasten when death's trumpet calls The spirit from its crumbling clay to cleave The boundlessness of space, and this scene leave. THE CANADIAN LTRE. n ). f on*. If death should dazzle the delighted soul — If there does burst upon its cloudless view All knowledge, and the cause that makes the whoU Harmonious hosts of heavenly lights pursue Their crbit-spheres sj'mphonious, as they roll Their anthems on the undulating blue ; If pains and doubtiuga ceas^, oh 1 Death, with thee, Then haste thee, Time, towards Eternity : Roll onward, then, in thy full-orbed careers, Roll on o'er death and destiny elate. Roll onward with the music of the spheres, Roll onward with the beautiful and great ; Make thy stern way-marks the cold sepulchres Of those who falsly rule, then yield to fate Reluctantly, and sullenly obey The dreary mandate of thy sickle's sway. lis The year has gone and all the midnight bells Sound out upon earth's listening solitude, And every peal reverb'rating impells Our thoughts, like passions in the youthful blood, Thrilling as love. Far o'er the landscape dells. Where summer lately dwelt among the wood, Resounds the new year's welcome, as it rings Speaking of seasons vanished, and of springs. Until the year revolves again, when, lo 1 June's transient blooms will gleam all brightly here, Continuing the panoramic show From earth's first hour to its millenial year, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I ■-ISS I3!M |5o "^ m^m ^ 1^ 1112.2 !^ lis 1110 1.8 11.25 U 1.6 ^ 6" ► V] ? Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 872-4503 :A- I'r? O^ 94 THE CANADIAN LYRE. As faithfully as the " unerring bow " Follows the storm the summer will the sere ; For the gnat's wing and the wild comet's glare, Are hinged by the same hand's creative care. But ere that revolution there may spring, Blighting, or change, or death's dumb destiny On us, or those around us, which will fling A different aspect on what is to be ; Borne onward by Time's all-triumphant wing Towards the land where lies the mystery, The shrouded secret only to become Unrolled to us on entering the tomb. But the dim boundary of our short-lived view — Perverted knowledge, passion, pain, excess — Wreck reason till it scarce receives one true Impression of what heaven intends to bless, Of all things that surround us, from the blue Etherial atmosphere, the gaudy dress, Of perfect nature, or diseased opinions, Which emanate from reason's cramped dominions. So move we on and murmur, as a wheel Grating its gudgeons, every turn a groan ; Each heart the cause of its own woe or weal, In some pet madness that it will not own ; How piteous to contemplate, yet conceal, The cancer that consumes us, bearing on With perseverance angels might applaud. If so much zeal was not for some false god. I THE CANADIAN LYRE. 95 ' We turn from Wisdom's way to some fair flower, Then gaze delirious ; lo I all life seems changed. Like drooping nature by a noontide shower. So bright we deem it ne'er to be deranged ; But let the false lights iv^ave temptation's bower, And the sick heart, to all save pain estranged. Shrinks shuddering back upon itself to feed. And life grows chill when cherished joys recede. To see the future's fading happiness, And gaze upon the far-receding joy, Without & purpose or an aim to bless. Or give the vivid intellect employ. Is the most perfect form ot wretchedness That pain can manufacture to destroy Great souls who ask in grief, " Ahl shall I lend My strength to good or bad, both seem to blend f" But thou hast been my umpire, early friend ; Thy spirit chose a higher destiny ; Thy hopes into the future far extend. And thy successes make my bosom gay ; Even as sweet odors with dark shadows blend, Thou censer-bearer of still destiny ; There is no painful portion of dull fate That was not left by thee less desolate. And the soul -moving, the unfathomed bliss, The spirit-thrilling, pure, aesthetic fire. That makes our bosoms' happiness in this, And in the world hope promises far higher. 96 THE CANADIAN LYRE. And tones our being to that loveliness That beauty spreads around us to admire Aa virtue's teachers ; all these things to thee Nature has meted out most lavishly. Yet all who view the vanished years perceive Their shades contain what time can ne'er restore. Hopes gone forever, like the birds that leave The withered landscape, to return no more. No love or faith can tempt us to believe As confidently as we did before Cold disappointments laden impress chills The warm blood of the heart's receptacles. So tardy time rolls on; and yet how brief Was joy's emotion in the hours that fill Life's springs and summers. Soon the yellow leaf And blighting breath of Boreas comes to chill, With seasons of corroding care and grief, The young heart's hope-built eostacies that thrill The bosom of their bearer ; soon fierce pain Usurps the throne of rapture's short-lived reign. The forest leaves are falling by the river, That flows around thy childhood'.^ dwelling-place ; A moment in the passing breeze they quiver, Then rest forever with their fallen race ; Like the last efforts hope makes to deliver Some portion of the bliss we would embrace, Back to our bosoms, tho' taught year by year Those beauties bud and blossom but to sere. ' . f THE CANADIAN LYRE. 91 ' I. Ah 1 Hope, why art thou an infatuation, A fleeting evanescent phantasy, The flitting spirit of procrastination, A gilded cloud upon the dying day, Making night darker, wrecking thy creation Almost in sight of pleasure's promised bay, Breaking our spirits with thine ever-prized Delusions never to be realised ? . <^\^ y Where is thy spell that urged life's early race, That pointed onward thro' prosperity The path that wound by many a pleasing place. Where winding streams thro' waving verdure stray ; The bountiful success of fancy's chase, Whose vain seductions vanish day by day? As evening fades the flower and wakes the star, Wafted away to re-appear afar. Thou art an angel's music in the hour Of misery's desolation — sacred sounds ! We still our hearts to hear thee with thy power, To dissipate what most in life abounds, Like waters to the parched, or coming showera To the dry verdure and the thirsty grounds ; Thy tenderness would teach us to infer Some seraph had alit to scatter myrrh. To his own sacred occupation singing The song begun in heaven before he left The hust of holy worshippers, out-winging The very beams of light his white wings cleft 8 98 THE CANADIAN LYRK. On his joy -journey thro' the blue space, bringing Some blessings to the breast too long bereft Of all it longs for. Cannot angels bring Such music as from heaven's high fountains spring ? There is a dimness in the atmosphere, A sunless light upon the far-off hills ; In total shade the valleys disappear, In mists uprisen from the reeds and rills ; The gathering gloom, cloud purpling cloud, draws near; As fear forms fear, when apprehension fills The heart with hope deferred, and none can tell If blight will come, or* all things yet be well ; And thro* the dimness that is gathered there, Among the glory of the crimson gloom, There comes advancing thro' the upper air A host of fame, whose beams defy the tomb ; Bards of gone time, and seers, whose missions were The wonders of the past, sent to illume Ages to be made glorious in the blaze Of their majestic lore and prophecies. And each assumed his lyre and harp of light, And sounded high the soul-exalted lays In virtue's favour, and the power of right ; The all-abundant peace of future days ; The unfathomed grandeur ; the majestic might ; The rich reward ; the everlasting praise, Of those who come off conquerors in the strife That desolates such hosts oi human life. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 99 ar; .- They hailed the dawn of righteous Reason's morn, The harmony of truth yet undefined, Whose light shall make men holier, being born Of moral power and nature's laws combined ; Faith without knowledge only meets with 8corn, And fails to sooth the ever-thirsting mind, And with high paeans they praised the learned of old, "Who lit the shades round superstition rolled. A moving host with glittering angels' wings, Seen far-careering thro' the ambient air, Awaited their release from earthly things, And wafted them to where the angels are Wrapped in the robes of pure imagining, Of pearl and twilight tinting, soft and fair, In jasper clouds reclining, whilst a hymn On harps received th' ascending cherubim. I saw the moon arise far oft' and shed A soft pale light upon the hazy land. And night in solitfirv places fled, Along the silent shore on either hand ; Far fleecy clouds their silvery splendors spread In heaven's deep azure, rolling high and grand ; Low breez 'S ridged the bay's bright shimmering sheen, And moved the boughs along the shores of green. 1- '4*.- 100 TBS OAKADIASr LTSB. ORRAlVrEL. THE FORE^ST MAIDEN, FROM THE PROBE OF MBS. SiGOtJRNfit. The ready boats received their freight, The fleet moved slowly from the shor^i, The river sparkled in the light, Tinged with the hues the morning wore ; The oak's exalted, unshorn head Waved greenly with magestic grace, The elm's umbrageous arms were spread To screen the restless feathered race. The cherry bent above the stream Whose blossoms flecked the watery gleam, Where silently the silver sails Float on before the breezy gales; And 83ven bright suns were set before They reached the fatal fleld of war. At night within their fortress wall The Peqnods held a festival — Ah I little thought they, even now, Their watch dog hailed the wary foe. " Owanux," shrieked tbs sentinel. And every throbbing heart grew still, On white mens' swords unarmed they rushed, Their bright blood on the bayonets gu>:hed ; They wrenched the weapons from their foes, They grappled deadly fierce and close ; THE OAKADIAV LTBB. 101 Till " fire the fort" was heard, then came Full seventy whirling cones of flame Half quenched in blood. The midnight glare Rolled luridly along the air, And mothers hurried too and fro Among their home-fires* gloomy glow, Hugging their shrieking infants nigher To save them from the flashing fire ; Nor had the Christless carnage ceased When morning lit the misty east ; — Still many a groaning, guiltless breast Urged friendly death to give them rest; And thus did English swords surprise The hosts they sought to civi/iza. Ah I to the red man's lonely thought, "Who starts to find his home is naught, What bright examples those must be Of lamb-like Christianity. Yet one retired apart to pray That God might save what man would slay: While faith his gentler nature swayed There came a rushing t- ro* the shade ; A Pequod maiden heard lis prayer And judged there might be justice there. Her brow was beauty's dwelling place And every charm full nature's grace ; Her grasp was rigid as despair — Anon she gazed on vacancy ; Her eyes refused their grief to share, Then closed as if they closed for aye. h\ ,?( 102 THB CANADIAN LTRE. Like evening's sun she sank, and still From fresh wounds, fast, a crimson rill Flowed o*er her bronzed and throbbing form, In wandering ripples bright and warm; Where fear, and grief, and strife had been, All was celestially serene ; And from her face ye scarce could tell If her gone days were ill or well ; A mingled whirl ot glee or pain, For they had gained that confluence when The maiden's and the matron's years So marvellously mixed appears. Again her lips began to speak, The blood to tinge her olive cheek, The trance of fear soon passed away And reason re-assumed its sway. She saw the christian standing by, And, with a shrill and shuddering cry, The blood upon her bronzed breast' Showed memory all the wi*etched rest. God's servant, with a tender hand, Sustained her — striving to assuage Her grief, with tones all understand — The brute, the savage, and the sage. "Surely my people might have stay'd Their hands against the beauteous maid." Seven years rolled by yet she remained B'ess'd by a christian father's care ; And every summer added grace To beauty's most exalted air: THE CANADIAN LYRE. 103 J • f Her glossy locks of raveu hair L- excellent profusion spread Around a face where tenderness And conscious blushes sweetly sped. One evening, when the mottled sky Glowed glorious in the sinking sun, When heaven's serene immensity Seemed throbbing forth tho words, '' well done," And sacred superhuman hues Adorned each dim declivity-, And shaped the intermingled views As fair as Eden's landscapes be, Orramel wandered forth alone To dwell, in thought, 'midst other days, And many a vivid vision gone Arose on memory's magic gaze. There flashed in all their fervid force, The scenes by which those waters come; Far by the river's reedy source She saw her childhood's forest home ; The foliage flashing in the breeze ; The sparkling stream beneath the trees Rolling its beaming waves away, In azure curves all gorgeously, To mirror lakes whose holy hues Were mottled o'er with white canoes. Again the dun deer bounds along ; Again she hears her sister's song ; And tears bedim her sable eyes To see her brothers' forms arise, 4" 1- ( 104 TDB CANADIAN LYRB. m 1^^^' So rudely severed in their glee, And her heart's choice, Ah ! where is he f Young Ontologon, whose high soul Was never known to brook control ; He of the darkly beaming eye, The last of Pequod royalty ; Whose words could strange emotions stir, Who chased the bounding fawn for her, Whose rapid feet, on plains and hills, Whose arrows, quick as rapture's thrills, Pursued the bounding bison crowds, Or brought the eagle from the clouds ? What sudden sounds arrest her ears! A real form from vanished years Upon her longing sight appears. Quick as the memory of the heart, By tender iutonation stirred. The remnant of war's cursed art Stood gazing on his hearths preferred ; As when an eagle, high above The nest containing all her love. Poises her wings a little while To see if aught has been to spoil The nurslings in their lofty nest, And watch with joy their hermit rest ; So he, the forest monarch, stood With joy's quick rapture in his blood. And more by signs than language said; ** Meet me where yonder alders are Soon as the setting sun has sped — The Christian cannot see us there." ■I !' THE CANADIAN LYRE. Again he vanish'd from her view Until the shadows darker grew. " Orramel/* said a voice whose deep Remembrance thrilled thro' every nerve. She turned, and saw her lover stand Beside her — by the river's curve. " Orramel, thou rememb'rest me — I saw it by thy flashing gaze — When on the hill-top suddenly I stood — thy friend of other days : I know it, for thy cheek-blood spak*^ Before thy lips the words could make." *' Oh, Ontologon I every tone Of thine recalls the visions gone; The dead return — I see thy sire, And mine, beside the council fire: Again beneath the cedar tree I hear thee wooing tenderly, Or sit beside my mother's home And watch thee with the evening come. When from the vines the grapes were shaken, When from the snares the game was taken, Thy footsteps pass'd each maiden's door To lay them all mine own before ; And I grew glad to see thee bring Bright flowers, and birds with vivid wing." On Ontologon's lofty brow The fierce thoughts flitted to and fro : " Where is thy mother now, and those Who fed the vengeance of our foes ? 105 106 THE CANADIAN LYBE. Where is our home, so softly seen Among the forest's glancing green ? Black ruins and bleach'd bones can tell How fierce the white man*s vengeance fell: I was not there, but thou canst say How few escaped from death that day. From every home beneath the heaven Our desolated race is driven. Forgotten in their gory graves, Or parcelled out as white mens' slaves. There's not a bough upon the tree Where once it was such joy to be — All banished from earth's beaming face, The Pequod finds no resting place ; And even now, should it be known My footsteps pressed my father's sod. There's not a Christian but would own My death a duty to his God : The Uncas' tomahawk would bring The tender mercies of their king : Yet not all desolate hath been My life since last mine eyes have seen Their early love — full many a time I payed the Pale-Face crime for crime. I seek to bear thee to the west Where thou and I may yet be blest — The white man has no foothold there, And none to follow us will dare ; Our moons will move in light serene, And thou shalt be a warrior's queen. THE CANADIAN LYRE. 107 J I shall collect our scattered braves, And lead them, as the swelling waves Roll down the mountains, to destroy All our accursed foes enjoy — Their blood shall be our harvest rains Till not a living drop remains.*' Orramel, with her humid eyes In troubled tenderness, replies : **. The desolation of our race Find tears familiar to my face, As often as the morning comes, Or evening sheds its glory-glooms ; But hence another grief is mine — This utter loneliness of thine. Until this hour I did not know My people's sun had set so low ; Yet curse not those who might have brought A blighted life where bliss was given ; They taught my spirit /?/ THE CANADIAN LTRB. 128 9, oor; egrets, imand ; ng, and. soft, 8 blending, ! mountain, rail, lur 1. TO ONE WHOM I OFFENDED. Oh ! once, when the smile of thy kindness was mine What dreams of delight I beheld I What castles of grandeur in gardens divine, What music from seraphim swelled. The white wings of peace floated over my soul, And wafted it lightly above, To mingle where anthems celestially roll From fountains of rapture and love. There were rivers of azure and heavenly heights. And thou in thy beauty wert there, With a harp, and a crown, and a halo of lights, Ye scarce could imagine how fair. We visited vistas entranced and enchanted, Enraptured we roved by the streams ; We gathered the lilies in Paradise planted, Surpassing earth^s heavenliest dreams. We mingled abashed with the cherubim bright, Enrobed in the finest spun gold. Till my vision grew pained with the fulness of light. Unaccustomed such scenes to behold ; And my heart got so glad with the glory of heaven That it broke thro* its beautiful bliss ; So, forth from my Eden, by sinfulness driven, I woke— from thy world into this. ~ ' 1 II ) ! ii ( W'^ fli i ;i ill ,. SI* 11 ;! ; V I it I I Ii Ii i I l( ■ « Ml ' ill : Ii il 1SI4 TBv OAKim^s trvti. I stretched out my hands to assure me of life, And felt the cold walls of my room ; Then I knew that thou wert not my cherubim-wife, For thou couldst not exist in such gloom. I pray thee, thou orb of my spirit, forgive Thy charms, ere thou comest to reprove My errors ; thou shouldst not expect me to live Like thee or the angels above. ON THE BANKS OF THE NITH, PARIS, C. W. Air—** Mteting of the Waters.** On the banks of the Nith, when the evening was clear, The wood-robin*s singing I wandered to hear ; But a little time past ere another came there — Oh I she is the fairest of all that is fair. How swift flew the twilight, we could not tell why, For the light of her smile and the glance of her eye Were enough to have driven night's shadows away ; But there's something in rapture that will not delay. Such Eden-like sweetness I would not resign For the wealth of the Indies, if offered as mine, And I blame not the bards who have given employ To the musical praise of such exquisite joy. By the first beams of morning a cottage is seen. Reflecting the light from its portals of green ; But the sunbeam within it is fairer by far Than the lily, the rose, or the eventide star. *t f> ife, )im-wife, I. ) live IS, C. W. ; was clear, ir; :e — lell why, her eye ^8 away ; lot delay. Q ne, employ 3en, I SHALL NOT TELL. Air-*' Oh ! J\ro, I JSTever Mentioned Uer." I shall not tell thee why the land With so much glory glows ; There is but one in all the world My sacred secret knows* O ! she is fairer than the flowers Of rosy June or May, When every bird is singing near, And every blossom gay. I asked her eyes to let their beams Make life supremely grand ; Their answer, like a flood of light Flushed all the flow'ry land. The sunbeams glanced among the grass. "Warm-waving in the breeze ; A new life gladdened every bloom, More splendid grew the trees. I never had much faith in gain, Or wealth, or golden power. And even these seem doubly vain. Henceforward from this hour. I shall not tell thee why the land With so much glory glows ; There is but one in all the world My sacred secret knows. 120 luf; ti ^ :r I'll 1 ^i: 1 1 1 m :| t ii !'! 'H !ii! " ■J ,: i!' !!;'! Ii til 1! I I ill 126 THB CANADIAN LTBB. HE WANTS ME TO MARRY HIM. AiK — ^^ Bonny Eloise.'* He wants me to marry him — what shall I say f To leave my old friends — let me see ; I know that he loves me — he said so to-day — I think they can do without me. He is comely and brave, he is tender and true, As fair as a twilight in June ; He asks me to wander with him, and I do, By the delicate light of the moon. Oh ! weary to think, 'twas for May that he came ; But 1 left them alone in the bower — When passing the pine grove he called me by name, And gave me this lilac flower. He is comely,