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 ^ -APPLIED irvMGE In 
 
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 1 JJAirini auii ^miyii 
 
 J. JR. ^msii 
 
 4. A->i.;;:,^iJ^«Vvi*; 
 
 iill'itnil; iKlllMii) (h, Siy^iuT 
 
 !ri;r (Sartintn TPrtaa 
 I 1904 
 
nr4 
 
 6.9 7^f) 
 
 CopyrJuht 1^,4 by J. R. Ntwiij 
 AH ri: hit resfrveJ 
 
 PRINTED AT 
 
 THE GORHAM PRESS 
 
 BOSTON, U. S. A. 
 
dontpnta 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 National and {latriutir 
 
 Qt'EEN Victoria .... 
 
 P»ge 
 
 9 
 
 Coronation Ode .... 
 
 10 
 
 To THE Dlke and Duchess op York 
 
 14 
 
 Count Beauregard ... 
 
 15 
 
 Flag Selling in China 
 
 16 
 
 The Two Nations .... 
 
 17 
 
 Mr. J. Bull: His Business 
 
 18 
 
 The Power of Song .... 
 
 19 
 
 Ireland's Opportunity 
 
 21 
 
 Canad ^N Patriotic Song 
 
 21 
 
 An Apocalypse .... 
 
 24 
 
 Hamon-goo ..... 
 
 25 
 
 Vatma on tht 9outl| Afriian 9Ia 
 
 r 
 
 Canada to Dufferin ... 
 
 31 
 
 A Ballad of the War 
 
 32 
 
 Lines ...... 
 
 The Conflict ..... 
 
 34 
 35 
 
 There is Nothing Too Good for the Irish 
 
 36 
 
 Invocation ..... 
 
 37 
 
 The Return ..... 
 
 37 
 
 Thanksgiving ..... 
 
 38 
 
^atttb Mtlai^a 
 
 Jehovah-jikeh . 
 
 Psalm XXIII . 
 
 A Prayek 
 
 Spiritual Indifference 
 
 The Anointing of the King 
 
 For Thee I Pray 
 
 Lenten Hymn . 
 
 Advent . 
 
 The World's Christmas 
 
 Christmas 
 
 The Redemption 
 
 To the Marquis of Dufferin and Ava 
 To Mr. M. K. Richardson, M.P. 
 Hail, Brethren of the Mystic Rite 
 
 MiZPAIi . 
 
 Parting 
 To Arthur 
 To Mv Boy 
 To Miss Graham 
 
 Ekgiaf l^ama 
 
 In Memo«y of the Marquis of Dufferin and Ava 
 
 lo My Daughter Ethleen . 
 
 To My Son Arthur . 
 
 Franklin McLeay 
 
 Frederick Louis D'Oer Le Pan 
 
 Robert Dunn Biggar . 
 
 David Mn.Ls, K.C., LL.D., Justice' of the Su 
 
 PREME Court of Canada 
 Th': Marquis of Salisbury , 
 Longfellow 
 To a Gifted Poet 
 Miss Edith Richardson 
 
 Pasa 
 41 
 42 
 43 
 44 
 44 
 45 
 46 
 47 
 48 
 49 
 50 
 
 57 
 58 
 60 
 61 
 62 
 63 
 64 
 65 
 
 69 
 71 
 76 
 77 
 79 
 80 
 
 81 
 83 
 84 
 85 
 86 
 
Ipatma Qll^flg Ugrital 
 
 The Shamrock 
 
 As Clings the Tree . 
 
 O Thou, to Whom My Wishes Flow 
 
 Like a Dream of the Night . 
 
 If We Should Meet . 
 
 Oh. Who that has Known . 
 
 What Sunshine 
 
 Loved and Adored . 
 
 1 Roamed Along a Dreary Way 
 Pardon, My Love, an Erring One . 
 Far Away .... 
 Waiting .... 
 Song ..... 
 Come Back from the Mistland 
 My Shamrock .... 
 Ballad ..... 
 
 P»ge 
 89 
 90 
 90 
 91 
 92 
 93 
 94 
 95 
 96 
 96 
 97 
 
 99 
 
 100 
 lOI 
 
 MiBtsUaatBUB ^aftne 
 
 Major-General Sir Hector Macdonald 
 
 
 105 
 
 Eventide .... 
 
 
 107 
 
 Unappreciated . 
 
 
 
 
 108 
 
 The Church in the West 
 
 
 
 
 109 
 
 Papa, Come 
 
 
 
 
 no 
 
 Parental Love 
 
 
 
 
 III 
 
 The Baby of Our Home 
 
 
 
 
 III 
 
 It Might Have Been . 
 
 
 
 
 112 
 
 A Reverie 
 
 
 
 
 114 
 
 Advent 
 
 
 
 
 "5 
 
 A Litany 
 
 
 
 
 116 
 
 A Litany 
 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 I Know . 
 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 To a Beautiful Woman 
 Alone 
 
 
 
 
 118 
 118 
 
 From Horace . 
 
 
 
 
 119 
 
 Insecurity 
 
 
 
 
 121 
 
i: 
 
 Dear Me! 
 
 Mathematical . 
 
 Bray County . 
 
 Dear Misther Molony 
 
 To Charles 
 
 What the Pug was Thinking 
 
 och, norah avic 
 
 I'm Short a Letter 
 
 To the Flat Earth Savants 
 
 When Daddy Takes the Strap 
 
 I2S 
 
 «S 
 126 
 127 
 128 
 130 
 131 
 133 
 134 
 136 
 
i^ational anb ^atriottr 
 
m 
 
 '-/ 
 
 I 
 
^Mfpn TSittaxia 
 
 Bowed down with grief the Nation weeps, 
 The people sorrow o'er their Queen — 
 The best, the noblest earth has seen, 
 
 A name which mem'ry loves and keeps. 
 
 Since David's Royal House began. 
 No name has lived on history's page 
 So glorious; and each future age 
 
 Shall hoard it as a talisman. 
 
 God save the Queen ! Alas ! we sing 
 Another strain than that today ; 
 And still with heart and soul we pray: 
 
 God save the King! God save the King! 
 
 Yet onr . more, as the solemn scene 
 Is passing, and the queenly Dead 
 Is borne from view, we bow the head. 
 
 And weeping pray : God save the Queen ! 
 
€aranation (Sbs 
 
 Written for Good Words 
 I 
 
 When from Victoria's hatid the sceptre dropped, 
 A mighty sorrow seized the Nation's hearti 
 
 As if the march of progress had been stopped, 
 And peace and hope had said : Let us depart ! 
 
 But Heaven had heard the Nation's prayer that 
 she 
 
 Might leave an Heir licr greatness to succeed ; 
 And m th' Eternal Councils the decree 
 
 Was issued provident for time of need. 
 
 And from that glorious Throne which symbols 
 forth 
 
 The thrones, dominions, principalities 
 In heavenly places, kingly truth and worth 
 
 Breathe benisons o'er continents and seas. 
 
 Heaven heard the Nation's prayer, and, gracious 
 still 
 To the predestined people, gives a King 
 Who shall the Empire's proudest hopes fulfill. 
 When peace prevails, or war's dread echoes 
 n.;g! 
 
 Where outer ocean washes distant shores 
 
 «7u ^""^^^ *^'™'^ ^"*' ^°"^ remote or near 
 Where Britain's opulence its largesse pours, 
 Dominion grows in greatness year by year. 
 
 And with that growth a loval spirit grows 
 
 Exulting as an eagle on the wing • 
 And wearers of the Thistle, Shamrock, Rose, 
 
 Repeat the British cheer: God save the King! 
 
God save the King who to the Throne succeeds ; 
 Ours is the trust of threescore years passed 
 o'er; 
 Be his the guerdon of immortal deeds, 
 Till Britain's realms shall stretch from shore 
 to shore! 
 
 II 
 
 Touch but the farthest points which mark 
 The Empire's bounds in east or west, 
 
 And instant as th' electric spark, 
 There starts a tremor of unrest, — 
 
 A tremor which pervades the whole. 
 
 Where tropic suns or arctic snows 
 Are as the passions of the soul. 
 
 Which to a perfect manhood grows. 
 
 Controlled by one responsive mind. 
 
 Which governs continents and seas. 
 Strong hands unfurl to every wind 
 
 A flag which floats on every breeze ; 
 
 Beneath whose folds no tyrant King, 
 
 Nor ruthless people find abode ; 
 But freedom folds her dewy wing. 
 
 And nestles at the feet of God! 
 
 Ill 
 
 " Truth, Morality, Peace " : such is the pledge 
 
 of the King, 
 Who in his noble ambition ever such blessings 
 
 would bring, 
 Wielding the sceptre of empire over a mighty 
 
 domain, 
 Shadowing earth with such glory as monarchs 
 
 have sought for in vain. 
 
I( > 
 
 Millions of hearts are expectant waiting the con- 
 quests of Right 
 
 Planned in the reign of Another — now in a halo 
 of light, — 
 
 Planned in a Woman's devotion with heart of 
 affection and truth. 
 
 Lived for till hands had grown aged redeeming 
 the pledges of youth. 
 
 Bright are the footprints behind her, where 
 
 Kings of her Line are to tread, 
 And he who is throned as her Heir has a hope 
 
 and a God overhead, — 
 A hope and a God to uplift him to heights where 
 
 no monarch e'er stood 
 In the waves of an ultimate glory, which beat on 
 
 the Throne like a flood. 
 
 Predestined of old o'er the nations to hold the 
 
 dominion of Migiit, 
 Till freedom shall shatter the fetters which bar 
 
 the dominion of Right, 
 Till Truth and Morality flourish, and war and 
 
 its tumults shall cease, 
 And the dove, with the olive-branch hov'ring, 
 
 shall come with the message of Peace. 
 
 Honor, and glory, and might, rest on the head 
 
 of the King, 
 Peace and good will unto men, angels in unison 
 
 sing; 
 Long may he live, till the darkness is swallowed 
 
 in fulness of light, 
 And Law shall forever have triumphed, and 
 
 Right be the standard of Might. 
 
r'aitli. on her cagli'-plimicil pinions, is soaring 
 
 aloft and afar, 
 Nations are looking in wonder, and, after the 
 
 tumult of war, 
 Falls, like a star of the evening, a message the 
 
 angels would bring: 
 Heaven's best gift to the people is Truth in the 
 
 heart of the King. 
 
 IV 
 
 God save our gracious King, 
 Let all the lieople sing, 
 
 God save the King ; 
 By aged and by young, 
 By every race and tongue. 
 On sea and land, be sung 
 
 God save the King. 
 
 Let his broad Empire wake, 
 Land, ocean, stream, and lake. 
 
 As swells the strain. 
 Till hate and discord flee. 
 And truth and loyalty 
 Shall utter far and free 
 
 The glad refrain. 
 
 God save the King who reigns 
 To loose the captive's chains. 
 
 And freedom bring; 
 Be his the dauntless mind. 
 In peace and war to find 
 The good of all mankind ; 
 
 God save the King! 
 
I 
 
 aia tift fiulu anil Siu1|mb of furk 
 
 UUBING THEIR TOUR OF THE DOMINION 
 
 He comes — the Hoir of Britain's Throne — 
 
 To our Dominion of the West, 
 Where peace has reigned, and wc.lth has grown. 
 
 Beneath the flag we love the best ; 
 .And whatsoe'er the welcome given 
 
 In other lands, our own shall prove 
 As honest as the light of heaven. 
 
 As ardent as the flame of love. 
 Though guns may boom, and sabres flash. 
 
 And streamers float on cverv breeze. 
 And serried cavalcades may dash, 
 ^ Like sunbeams flecked on summer seas ; 
 Yet, while ten thousand voices start 
 
 The echoes with their glad acclaim. 
 The silent homage of the heart 
 
 Puts all the.se outward forms to shame. 
 
 We love the Ihrone of her who reigned 
 For threescore years o'er land and sea. 
 And still an equal sway maintained 
 
 'Twixt Motherland and Colony. 
 •And like the Phoenix from the dust, 
 ^ Her gracious Heir ascends the Throne, 
 Commanding that implicit trust 
 
 And homage, which were hers alone. 
 And Thee, the Royal Messenger 
 
 Of Royal Sire, whom we revere, 
 We hail with joy, and breathe the prayer 
 
 That Heaven may guard thy sojourn here. 
 To Thee and Royal Spouse we give 
 
 The best we have of truth and worth: 
 May ye fulfill our hopes, and live 
 
 Till peace shall dominate the earth ! 
 
(Count trourroorli 
 
 Count Beaureganl was a rcfiigi'e in England, 
 and was for two years an officer of the Lancers, 
 lie joined in l8()4- and resigned his commission 
 •1 1896. Subsequently he went out to Kimberlcy, 
 .ind joined the RmT fones. lie fell in battle 
 near Pretoria. 
 
 The man who fnund in (la\s );one by 
 
 A refuge and a home 
 On Mritisli soil, yet dared to tly 
 
 When foes were seen to come — 
 Nay, who allied himself with those. 
 
 .And fought his steadfast friend. 
 Deserved to die with Hritain's foes, 
 
 .And meet a graceless enil. 
 
 Hut Britain still shall yield a home 
 
 To homeless refugees 
 F.xpellcd mm fatherland, who come 
 
 In haste across the seas: 
 .\nd treachery shall still repay 
 
 The kindness liritain shows: 
 It is the way — the wicked way — 
 
 Of thankless, treacherous foes. 
 
 15 
 
3fla9-1^lUai in (Slrina 
 
 During tlio distiirhancis in I liina it was rc- 
 ixirtcil that I£iiroi>cans were accustomed to sell 
 their national flags to the Chinese, who made use 
 of them for ulterior purposes. The Hritish and 
 American flags were not purcliasalile. altlioiifrl, 
 $3,000 was offered for a flag. 
 
 Let soldiers of anotlier race 
 
 Play fast and loose with treason. 
 Sell flag and honor, and disgrace 
 
 Their nation, name, and reason ; 
 The Stars and Stripes and Union Jack 
 
 Arc not for sale to foenicn ; 
 Conie weal come woe, come blow come whack. 
 
 Those flags are bought by no man. 
 
 The treacherous Russ and hauty Gaul 
 
 May shame their name and nation. 
 May sell their flag, and thus forestall 
 
 A shameless degradation; 
 But Saxon honor still is bright. 
 
 And faithful to tradition ; 
 And men may stand or fall in fight. 
 
 The flags know no transition. 
 
 From flagstaff and from masthead high 
 
 Fling out the flags, which flutter 
 Together in an alien skv, 
 
 When war's dread thunders mutter; 
 The Imperial Race must take the field. 
 
 And stand or fall together; 
 But never never shall they viild 
 
 To brook a foeman's tether. 
 
 O'er^ upland crag, o'er marsh and mead, 
 Oer ocean's heaving bosom, 
 
 16 
 
They K" t<i siiw th' iiii|iiTi:il swd. 
 
 VVliich vet sliall Inid and blossom, 
 L'ntil the earth be filled willi friiit 
 
 Of noble aspirations. 
 And freedom, peace, and hope refute 
 
 The (loRtiias of the nations. 
 
 JLifi mma Natimu 
 
 The days shall come when the U"iciii Jack 
 
 And the Stars and Stripes shall be me 
 In a bond of peace, for the world's release 
 
 From the sway of the sword and gun. 
 In that day the chosen R; cc shall rule. 
 
 As foretold by seers divine ; 
 .\nd the scattered flock of a kindred stock 
 
 In a league of peace shall join. 
 
 A fulness of nations shall one branch b--. 
 
 The othe.' a nation of niight. 
 In the day when the Lord shall fulfill His ord 
 
 And the twain in a ' oiid unit" ; 
 Then shall mankind fear no iron rod 
 
 In the hand of tyranny ; 
 For the earth shall be filled with the knowledge 
 of God. 
 
 As the waters cover the sea ! 
 
 " 'Tis a dream, " say they, the blinded ones. 
 
 "A vision — a phaiita.sy ; " 
 But God's own ways in the latter days 
 
 Shall cause the blind to see ; 
 Till the earth itself shall awake in joy 
 
 For the Nations' triumph won. 
 And the tribes of earth shall publish forth 
 
 What Israel's God hath done! 
 
 »7 
 
«r. 3. Bull: ma tuamiBa 
 
 .ln5^rs];?r^'^^'i^^^;f'^>7y in trade, 
 plaved. ^ Gun-,s forever dis- 
 
 AIl painted in Red, White and RI„„ i • ■ 
 
 fade — "^' ^^'"'^'' won't 
 
 Tis the (irni of one Mr, J. null. 
 
 i-Jt the bnsmes,slikc Mr, J. Bull 
 
 For he wants it. does Mr. J. n„ii 
 
 If you liave not the cash ui„. 
 
 do, ■ ''''•'■ ^ I'ortgag-e will 
 
 His dealings in real estate are a few ■ 
 Hes a lover of land, but has also h,' view 
 Ocean trade, the same Mr. J, Bull 
 
 S*;^:en'':^:''Bfcr ""^-*esun, 
 
 I5"t they'd rather selLh "T ^' ^ ^"" ' 
 
 chasinjf 'me_'" ''"*'^' ^^''^" >""><" P»r- 
 
 •■Vo„„,ay need then,,'- sa>.. .\|,, J. Bull. 
 
 i8 
 

 So come to tlic great dopartmentals of trade : 
 The Big Gun is the sign, and is always displayed, 
 ."Ml painted in Red, White, and Blue, which won't 
 fade; 
 He leads, does this Mr. J. Bull. 
 
 X. B. — 
 But if you should chance to step over the way, 
 .And trade with a rival — now, mind what I 
 
 say — 
 Perhaps the Big Gun may be brought into play — 
 " 'Tis my way, sir! " says Mr. J. Bull. 
 
 (Biie Pomrr nf ^mig 
 
 AN I.N'CIDENT OF THE ' SITISII COURT 
 
 The Court was hushed, and every eye was bent 
 
 upon the Queen, 
 Whose face was womanly and kind, and all her 
 
 looks serene : 
 ■' Bring forth the singer ; " she was brought, and 
 
 in that Presence stood, 
 .\ daughter of the Celtic race, bright, beautiful, 
 
 and good. 
 
 " Sing one of Erin's sad sweet songs," the good 
 
 Queen kindly said : 
 And then the singer paused to think, and bowed 
 
 her graceful head ; 
 She thought of Erin's ancient fame, when kings 
 
 of native birth 
 Rode proudly forth in royal state, the noblest of 
 
 the earth. 
 
 19 
 
Slie thought of prelate and of priest, whose 
 
 guidance had been sought 
 By foreign lands, when Erin shone as earth's 
 
 most sacred spot; 
 She thought of minstrel and of bard, whose 
 
 melody and songs 
 Had waked of old the hills and dales, as with a 
 
 thousand tongues. 
 
 But, no! she must not sing of those -they all 
 
 had passed away — 
 The throne, th learning, and the song, were of 
 
 a bvgone dav: 
 Where glory sli'one, and learning ruled, and 
 
 song was heard erstwhile 
 
 &cred" Wer"'"""' '"'' ^"'^ ^'"^^"^ ""^ 
 
 And so the singer raised her head and sang of 
 t-rm s grief, ° 
 
 °^ relief- '"'' "''"'"'' "^^" ''"^''' ^ '=°'''''2' °f 
 
 She sang of men and women bound and thrown 
 
 in dungeon mean, 
 Or hanged like dogs throughout the land for 
 
 wearing of the Green ! 
 
 ^"■^of Fn^lfJJ^'J^"' ^'""''^ '°"=''^d 'he heart 
 England s Queen, 
 
 h^d'heen'"^'" *' '"'" '""''^ °^ ^" *^' °"=^ 
 
 ^"^:aL€So[veT'' ''' ^°"^' ™- ^-* *^ 
 
 And queenly dignity bowed down before a na- 
 lion s Liod. 
 
And from that moment Erin felt a sense of 
 better things, 
 
 As queenly power has striv'n to right the wrongs 
 of England's Kings ; 
 
 And Erin's sons have found a friend m Eng- 
 land's gracious Queen ; 
 
 Xone dare to wrong or vex them now for wear- 
 ing of the Green. 
 
 Ah ! little thouglit the fair young girl who sang 
 
 the mournful song 
 How far the influence would reach to right a 
 
 cruel wrong: 
 But stronger than the patriot's words m senate 
 
 hall, is seen 
 The gentle power of that sad song, which won 
 
 Britannia's Queen ! 
 
 Srrianft'a ©pportmutg 
 
 Oh, they tell me that the Irish are once more 
 allowed to live. 
 
 And that enemies of olden time must pardon and 
 forgive ; 
 
 And they tell me that we've freedom m old 
 Ireland to be seen 
 
 Without threat of jail or gallows for the wear- 
 ing of the Green. 
 
 .Vnd they t^.. me that the Shamrock shall hence- 
 forth be worn by those 
 
 Who have trod it down disdainfully, poor Ire- 
 land's cruel foes ■ 
 
 Well. God be praised that happier days for Ire- 
 land shall be seen. 
 
 When her children shall not suffer for the wear- 
 ing of the Green. 
 
 11, 
 
° ^S:Z^'"'' "- '-'-"i is a placo 
 ''"'ft5:eT''"'^^''^°''^"-""-ven pardon and 
 '":a?,":^r,e^r"'^^-^'"^-^thedav. 
 
 °"nKe:r '" ^-'-'l "ow the wearing 
 
 ^)^:n^:^^.:!:^°'^>^an„e..H,c„in 
 
 o-eTt 1;:-" '" ^™- «--. proud,. 
 
 ;^;;:ll^/Sft:e^,-'^-andon.e«a.- 
 
 i^of^S:?°e^V'^-"-«^"-He,vea. 
 
 ®a«aJ«an fatriatit »onn 
 
 We are the sons of Empire 
 
 vfa-nSce 
 
 Otr"bro;r" Nationhood: 
 
 ^AndV''' ^''•■"'' °f Empire. 
 And ours it is to chini 
 
 The broadest rights of dtizens 
 ours on land and sea. 
 
Well figlil for the right 
 
 In the struggle of the free. 
 In the combat for our heritage, 
 
 .'\nd the Empire of the free. 
 
 We are the men of Empire 
 
 By right of brawn and brain ; 
 Our sires made Britain what she is. 
 
 And what we shall maintain. 
 Where Britain's arms and commerce go. 
 
 There fearlessly go wc. 
 To fight for the right 
 
 In the cause of liberty. 
 For the honor of the British Race. 
 
 And the Empire of the free. 
 
 Then here's to our Dominion, 
 
 And here's to those who've died. 
 And here's to those who battle on 
 
 For Britain's power and pride! 
 The billows of the mighty deep 
 
 Are not more proud than we. 
 As we fight for the right 
 
 In the contest of the free. 
 In the combat for the British name, 
 
 And the Empire of the free! 
 
 'i 
 
A« ApatalypBt 
 
 sLi",o°rth"^- '"'' -- ^^"-t.y the 
 """trulSi,.^"^^'"^ '-<'-• "-■"''ers far 
 
 "^uJt&/ffi-^-''-'^foraba„. 
 
 ' :^n^^e':L"U:?r^°" ^"--) ^v'- Shan 
 
 ^r^^^S^^ "'^ --P- ^o^ the ,ast 
 
 X''£h°'^"'''^='->'-'^-thehattle-s 
 
 ''^" SicTXath'r^''"^ -'^°- ^'-„ the 
 
 And rethinks I see a people puissant and r.adv 
 
 ^^Sc,;^;S,t:^,r;-/'--pt.ofaworM 
 And above the wrprt ^f ^„ ■ 
 ^. ^don,s, cru^blTthrler" ^'^""^^^^ ^■'■"^- 
 rotr4:^"^°''"-P'^P-in. earth's 
 
 '4 
 
Then a Banner, war-becrimsoned, which has 
 
 waved a thousand years 
 Over flood and field victorious, in a cloud of 
 
 light appears; 
 Banner of a mighty People, ensign of a Race 
 
 divine, 
 God-ordained to lead in freedom where the Cross 
 
 shall be the sign. 
 
 Swords to plowshares now are beaten, war's 
 dread thunders peal no more, 
 
 Peace and plenty fill the nations, gladness reigns 
 from shore to shore, 
 
 Hope looks upward to the mountains, sees the 
 triumphs yet to be, 
 
 Hears the paean of the ages: Heav'n has tri- 
 umphed — man is free ! 
 
 ifanmm-gog 
 
 Wails o'er the misty Atlantic re-echoing o'er the 
 
 Pacific, 
 Wails as from nation in anguish who dread 
 
 what may happen tomorrow, 
 Fill earth and sky with their dissonance, moan- 
 ing like winds of November, 
 When Nature dismantles the forest in lonely and 
 
 wide desolation. 
 Rosh with his cohorts of thousands is gathering 
 
 strength for the conflict ; 
 Riders and horses caparisoned, ready to rush to 
 
 the onset. 
 Wait for the call of the trumpet to sound the 
 
 advance to the battle; 
 And with him are leagued for the struggle the 
 
 sons of the alien and stranger. 
 
 25 
 
N'limerous. eager, and swift, like locusts wliicli 
 
 eat up the harvest. 
 Rosh, the predestined of nations, foreseen in the 
 
 visions of prophets. 
 Marshals the hosts of the mighty ones gathering 
 
 fast from the North Land, 
 Nation with nation uniting, which once were at 
 
 variance and hostile, 
 ("oming like brothers to brothers, who once wen- 
 estranged from each other. 
 Gather there now from the Westward tlie ships 
 
 from the regions of Tarshish. 
 .Ships from the Isles of the West, where (iod 
 
 from of old made jirovision. 
 Plowing the billows which foam with a [jresage 
 
 of battle and ruin — 
 Ruin more awful and dire than ages and ages 
 
 of slaughter. 
 
 Woe unto Rosh and the hordes o( the alien and 
 
 stranger accursed ! 
 Woe unto those who profane tlie Land of a hoh- 
 
 remembrance ! 
 Now shall the vengeance, restrained through 
 
 ages of wickcfl presumption, 
 r.urst in a tempest of brimstone and hail from 
 
 the hand of Jehovah! 
 Wails from the tempest-tossed ocean, and deso- 
 late cries on the mainland. 
 Groans of the nations in anguish, who shrink 
 
 with the dread of the morrow. 
 Fill earth and sky with their dissonance, harsh 
 
 as the loud lamentations. 
 When cruel Tisiphone scourges the souls in Tar- 
 
 taroan bondage. 
 
 26 
 
 -—-4 
 
Night settles iJuwii and o'ersliado«< the face ni 
 
 the mainland and ucean. 
 N'inht the most awful since God in His wrath 
 
 smote the first-born of Egypt : 
 Darkness and dread brood in concert o'er moun- 
 tain and valley where silence 
 In whispering shadows rehearses the fate of the 
 
 horse and the rider. 
 Mlackness of darkness comes down, and the hot 
 
 wave? of vapor ascending 
 Stifle the war-weary soldier, who curses the 
 
 struggle for conquest. 
 Curses the hopes of ambition, which challenge 
 
 the anger of Heaven : 
 Then, grasping his sword, leaps in frenzy to 
 
 grapple with dangers impending. 
 
 Hark ! loudly a bugle is calling — the noise of 
 an army advancing 
 
 Is heard from the \Vcstward. and nearer re- 
 sounds the approaching of horsemen ; 
 
 Bugle now answers to bugle, and tuiinilt is an- 
 swering to tumult, 
 
 Awful and dread as when earthquakes are rend- 
 ing the rocks and the mountains ! 
 
 Suddenly flames in the darkness a flash as if 
 thousands of lightnings 
 
 Blended in one dread convulsion were hurled 
 from the hand of Jehovah : 
 
 Then for a moment the silence of destiny hangs 
 in the darkness — 
 
 When instant and dreadful, o'erwhielming the 
 
 horse and the rider, the fury 
 Of Heav'n in hot thunderbolts falls, as when. 
 
 rent from the brow of the mountain. 
 
!^^^^ar aUZ&-- "-^- "•^'- "P the 
 ;^^evr!:^^^^-4f--a.eas... 
 "^erllrwr.hrva',?;^'"-"-- -e.b. 
 
 7 ?pSef „o':td:5'^'' ^^- '-^ P- Had 
 
 ;r^^^^i^°-H°s'--^-o.d.aso. 
 
 3^rn-?— ,--„hashea.h. 
 
 28 
 
PoptttB on tl|p i^uutii Afrirmt 
 liar 
 
(Canolia ti> Buflrrin 
 
 AN ELEl.V D.N I.OK1I A\ \. WHO I I-.1.1, IN AN A( TIoN 
 AT I.MlYSMITll. 
 
 ■• t'l.AMiKiioYi:. Ikki.am). Marrli 8. ic)on. 
 • .Uv ''■•<"■ Ur. Xmi-ll: Sniiif kind frirnd 
 has sent nii- tlii' toncliin); vitsos y.m liavo written 
 in ri-feronci- tn tlio ilcatli of nnr |)<H)r Ixiy. and 
 l.adv Duffcrin lias iK-RK^'d "»■• to express to yon 
 her deepest Kratitnde. which I do hoth in tier 
 name and in my own. for lia' iiiK paid ■..> tender 
 and generous a tribute to his uuinorv. N'or are 
 we less sensible of the friendlv >]iirit towards 
 imrselves which breathes throiij;h your iK^antiful 
 |)oem. Hclieve me. 
 
 " Yours sincerely. 
 
 •■ Dll TKUIN AND AVA." 
 
 The man whose name stands hiKlicst '" '•>' i'^" 
 
 teem 
 
 Of those o'er whom he ruled in days gone by 
 
 Is not fortjotteii. now that death'- ■'..rk stream 
 
 Hath quenched the hopes which once burnt 
 
 proud and hi(;h- 
 
 Ah! who shall say how nuicli the father 
 thoufjht — 
 
 How oft the mother prayed as days sped on, 
 .And boyhood from that loftier manhood caught 
 
 The fire Promethean pas-sed from sire to son 
 
 .\nd when at length the cry "To arms!" was 
 heard. 
 And valiant dee<ls sticceedeil boasting words. 
 
 3' 
 
part against unequal liordes 
 revere. " '""^t" wliom we 
 
 A Sallad nf % IBnt 
 
 '" tSr' ''^' ^■"'^'-- '-•^-ecords of 
 '"on yndl^^l^ ""'^'^'^ -"ich have been 
 
 " '^S"wi^g^ P""''^'-^- -d the message 
 "^ mor7b"t:'°"' '"^^ ^"'°- ^hall for ever- 
 
 ""^ W^toofTtr/' "^^"■"^^' -'-- "'^ 
 
 ,/d'ow'n^ptThrfo^ ^" -^'-■^"^ -ept 
 We are looking — the nrn„H „ 
 
 ,^ vvho fought that day - '^'°^'"^ °^ "'"^^ 
 
 We are Norman. Celt pn^ c 
 want the world to kniw ^'''°"' *"'' ^« 
 
 """^ faTer'tr '"' '° ^^'"'^-■■'- ^^-e on a 
 ^dlsfcrfilHl''^ °^ "^"^'^'^ G- almost 
 Ja%hrtrdi?m:/^^"-*"^'-edthe 
 
 a'dvtV;?ZlS""^^^"-'^'--''^^- 
 32 
 
I 
 
 I . 
 
 I 
 
 We are looking back to Hawkins, and to Drake 
 and Frobisher, 
 When the ir.-htv fleet came northward from 
 the hc-'ii ahnreb r^f Spain; 
 And we se =n to hea- th> timuh, that surchareed 
 the tr> uii'i (1 air, " 
 
 When Ert,.;!. nvjjhi spread havoc and de- 
 struction o'er the main. 
 
 We are looking back to Nelson at the Nile and 
 Trafalgar. 
 To Wellington at Waterloo, to Havclock and 
 to Clyde; 
 And vye feel our hearts beat faster, as the tumult 
 of the war 
 Brings to mem'ry glorious actions of our sires 
 who fought and died. 
 
 We are looking on th' achievements of our 
 heroes of today. 
 Who in Egypt and in Africa have won a last- 
 mg peace: 
 They shall shine on historv's pages, like the 
 sun's meridian ray, 
 As the men who broke the fetters, and to 
 captives gave release. 
 
 And despite the jealous nations, we are strivine 
 day by day 
 That our flag ma\- wave in freedom from the 
 flagstaflf and the mast. 
 And that British arms shall triumph, as in thick- 
 est of the fray 
 We shall rally round the standard, and be 
 Britons to the last ! 
 
 a 
 
Throughout tiie Img dull night the bivouac fires 
 Gleam fitfully, while men in ambush creep 
 
 From rock to crevice, as the foe retires 
 As stealthily beyontl where sentries Ueep 
 
 Their nightly virgils, and the long watch tires 
 The wearx' eye forbidden now to sleep 
 
 While the deep silence reigns, so soon to vield 
 
 To storm and tumult over camp and field. ' 
 
 Ami while in homes afar beyond the sea 
 
 The mothers, wives, and sweethearts of the 
 brave 
 
 Lift holy hands to Heaven imploringly. 
 
 That lie. who notes llie sparrow's fall, mav 
 save 
 
 Kach cherished one: yet liritons nui.st be free. 
 .\nd I'"reedom's price is havoc and the grave; 
 
 .Vnd many a heart, with hope now beating fast. 
 
 Shall rot in foreign wilds when all is ])astl 
 
 ^'et from that soil sli.ill spring in after \cars 
 .A. harvest of requital, such as brings ' 
 
 Joy to the reapers, when the mist of tears 
 Has passed away forever on the w'ings 
 
 Of fluttering darkness, and a day appears 
 Of ceaseless progress, which imaginings 
 
 Could never dream of, telling of release 
 
 .\nd boundless empire, and a world at peace. 
 
 34 
 
tBl^t (Sonflirt 
 
 Tliunder of Runs on the mair.laml. 
 
 Trooping of ships on the sea. 
 Hissing of shot and screaming of slicll — 
 
 What may this tumult be ? 
 Look! from the Xorth and the South. 
 
 See ! from the East and the West. 
 .\n Empire's sons from ever_\ cHmc 
 
 .\re touched by a strange unrest 1 
 
 Thimder of guns on the mainland. 
 
 Speeding of ships from far. 
 .Sons of the Empire. East and West. 
 
 Are one in the strife of war; 
 East and West in the strife are thc> . 
 
 One in the contest joined ; 
 While the lagging world looks after them 
 
 From the lowlands far behind. 
 
 N 
 
 Thunder of guns on the mainland. 
 
 Trooping of ships at sea. 
 Hissing of shot and screaming of shell. 
 
 Boom out the century. 
 East and West are one in the strife. 
 
 When the war-drum beats alarms; 
 And an Empire's sons, from every clime. 
 
 Shall meet the world in arms ! 
 
 35 
 
<5iFW ia Hn«,i«g tan (Saab for % SriaJi 
 
 There^is nothing too good for the Irish these 
 When^war is the pasti.ne, and all the world's 
 
 They are afoTa°, ec, T: ,"; '""Z''^*''-'"" ^'""'-'. 
 That the.. 4!h^^-'^t^->--.,oes 
 
 And^the^Queen (Heaven bless her!) reviewing 
 Has .en, though the English have garter and 
 
 "^ Ancf are"^,'"' ""'"'"^f ^^ht better by far 
 And are always and everywhere Ir'sh 
 
 .tr'^loverthrn'','''V'."''''^'\°^ ^"" "^ °W- 
 rs worn on the breast of L' °^ ^''^^^ ^"^^ SM, 
 For thcrp'J n„fi • '"'^ warrior bold ; 
 
 there s nothing too good for the Irish 
 
 "'"''shanfl;"^"^'^^^'^-"^-- the flagstaff 
 
 36 
 
MnbatsUati 
 
 4 
 
 O God of Battles, in whose sight 
 D /"f "="'ons wield the civil sword 
 Behold our need, and in Thy might ' 
 
 Sustain and strengthen us, O Lord' 
 Bid vvars and tumults cease, we pray' 
 tjive joy and gladness in our day. ' 
 
 Our cause is holy: we have sought 
 To strike the chains from hands and feef 
 
 The nations of a grosser thought 
 in hostile consultations meet • 
 
 We ask no favor in the fight •' 
 
 We only pray, God speed the right ! 
 
 Out of this chaos, dark and rude 
 
 May a united nation rise. 
 Triumphant over feuds of blootl 
 
 And bound together by the ties 
 
 ThV^^J"'-''"'!:''?"'^-.''''""'"'^ P'-^g'-'^^-'^ "-ears 
 1 he fabric of the circling years. 
 
 5»J?p Sptoirn 
 
 Victorious from afar they come — 
 
 Their country's hope, the nation's shield, 
 1 he sons of Canada come home 
 
 From bivouac ami battlefield 
 '^™^"'h''e the Empire's annals tell 
 
 Of Roberts and of Wellington 
 The fame our heroes won so well 
 
 Shall still live on — shall still live on 
 In solemn gloom the cypress waves 
 
 Her sombre boughs in memory 
 
 37 
 
Of those who sleep in nameless graves ■ 
 A glorious band — beyond the sea. 
 
 But where they fell that tyranny 
 Might yield to right or banishment. 
 
 A nation's progress hence shall be 
 Their everlasting monument. 
 
 (ElfankBgiDing 
 
 vni' 
 
 ir> 
 
 " We praise Thfc, O GliiI : 
 be the Lord, ' 
 
 wc acknowledge Thee to 
 
 We thank Thee. Lord of earth and heaven. 
 For all the mercies Thou has given. 
 For power and strength to sword and shield. 
 For triumph on the foughtcn field. 
 
 Sometime the foe prevailed, and then 
 A tremor shook the hearts of men. 
 As if, in danger's troubled day, 
 'l"h>- face in wrath had turned awav. 
 
 But we behold Thy truth and grace 
 Vouchsafed to us in evcrv place: 
 In council aiul in war, Tliv might 
 Hath been i ur stay by day and night. 
 
 We offer fullest praise to Thee. 
 
 Who ruitst j-er land and sea. 
 
 For victory in battle gained. 
 
 For wrong reproved, for right maintained. 
 
 And ever as the ages run 
 
 Beneath the circuit of the sun. 
 
 Be thanks returned, from coast to coast. 
 
 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 
 
 38 
 
Bntrth MtiahitB 
 
I 
 
 iii 
 
upon the mount Jehovah chose, 
 
 Where Abraham should slay hisson. 
 fn after days a Temple rose 
 
 Of gold, and gems, and precious stone, 
 A glorious House, where once again 
 
 Truth. Honor, Virtue paid the price 
 Of Fortitude, and taught us men 
 
 True manhood stands in sacrifice. 
 
 And we as builders, taught to found 
 
 The edifice of character. 
 Do build on sacrificial ground, 
 
 And day by day the fabric rear. 
 Which grows unto a holy fane, 
 
 A temple of divine abode. 
 Wherein is manifest again 
 
 The cloud-girt ra(lianc\' of God. 
 
 41 
 
yaolm XXiil 
 
 Thr Lord my Shiplurcl is, .iinl lit. 
 X^ainst every want sustaincth me; 
 He caiiscth nif, « lu„ sore oppressed. 
 In pastures ijrceii to take my rest. 
 
 Hesidc still waters lie doth gnide. 
 .\nd for my soid [K. (l„,|i provide 
 l-or Mis .V.iMu-s sal«' I onward press. 
 Still led Ml paths ,,f riRhteoiisness. 
 
 Via, ihoii;;!, I „.^||, j„ ,|^..j,h.j, ^^^1^, ^.|^j|, 
 I hrongh slia.lows. I will fear no ill • 
 (•or Thon art with me. and Thv rod 
 And staff shall ,f,nifcirt me, () God. 
 
 Thon .spread'sl a talde with supplies 
 In pre.sonce of mine enemies — 
 I'pon tiiy head the oil dost pour. 
 And still my cup is nmninfj o'er. 
 
 Oh .s;ri:y goodness coa.sclesslv 
 .\nd mercy still shall follow me. 
 And to Thy house I shall repair, 
 .\nd dwell secure for ever there. 
 
 4i! 
 
II' ll)f>-' ( 
 
 A Prajirr 
 
 Umni.N lll.KIM, IIIK ,,n| |.\M|vi 
 
 O C.kI ,,f Israel, hear. 
 Who in the dnvs o! nld, 
 < >fl taiiKin 'I'liv rlioscii race Ki t. 
 Thy jiiilfimciMs manifold. 
 
 Ill hold our jjri'at distriss. 
 I hi- cold, .mil wanl. and woe ; 
 And iu'lp us. Lord of rigfhtoo\isncss. 
 .\nd kindly iinTcy show. 
 
 \\y arc a rclicl nic-r. 
 Who to oiir.silves uonid live : 
 iini Thon art lull of love .-Mid i,rr;ici-, 
 IX-lifjhtinK lo forgive. 
 
 W hcnci' \M' havf goni' asira\ 
 Recall n> in Thy love ; 
 Wliere we have erred', let mercy stay 
 rile wrath which would reprove. 
 
 (111! mitigate the woe 
 Which rests upon the land. 
 Fenipcr the \vintr>- winds which blow 
 Alone at Thy command. 
 
 And to Thy holy N'ame 
 May all our thank.s be given. 
 Till we Thy praises .shall acclaim 
 With the redeemed in heaven. 
 
 43 
 
^trttual ^MJiiffmnrr 
 
 How lifcliss siinis ihr Chnrcli today 
 In love, in warmth, in I'cllowsliii) ■ 
 
 The prayers we breathe, the creeds we sav 
 Seem efforts only of the lip ; 
 
 riie Apostolic jjlow is gone. 
 
 The aurora of the early dawn. 
 
 And though the love he manifest 
 
 VVhich clothes the naked. fee.Is the poor; 
 And all the sons of want are blest. 
 /^\ m<-'rc\ speeds from door to door 
 1 he lovi', M Inch much to man has mvcn 
 Is cold m thonghts of God and heaven. ' 
 
 The Church's life, the Spirit's fire 
 Is wan and cheerless, as todav 
 
 We struggle heavcnw.nrd. and .aspire 
 
 In prayers we breathe, in creeds we sav • 
 ■ewadmg what we feel is lost, 
 
 We wait another Pentecost. 
 
 ^ife AnnfnJlna nf tijf King 
 
 It had been reported that unction would be 
 dispensed with at the Coronation of Edward VII. 
 
 What ! shall not holy oil be poured 
 
 Upon our gracious King? 
 And shall the imction of the Lord 
 
 Be deemed a paltry thing? 
 
 And shall the page of history 
 
 The solemn truth record 
 That he was not raised up to be 
 
 Th' Anointed of the Lord? 
 
 44 
 
No floul.t mans wisdom makes it „|.u„ 
 
 In this great ago of light, ' 
 
 lltat without Gel a King may reign, 
 An<l princes rule aright. 
 
 Hut lie who sits enthroned on high 
 
 Miall laugh at the design 
 Of puny man to break the tie 
 Twixt human and Oivine. 
 
 Uhich would 1 In presence shun, 
 i'till let riiy will be done. 
 
 For thee 1 pray whene'er I kneel 
 
 before th' Eternal Ihrone. 
 While every word and wish appeal 
 
 for good to thee alone. 
 
 And when I to the aha; go 
 
 And make oblations there. 
 The Sacrifice I plead, and know 
 
 I liat Cod will answer prayer. 
 
 Oh wanderer in a .Irearv land. 
 Where barren scenes abound 
 •™iH-r, heaven is still at hand, 
 nl there is hallowed ground. 
 
 Beyond the vale of time behold 
 
 The brightness which appears. 
 Where .streets are paved with shining gold 
 
 And there are no more tears. 
 
 45 
 
 'THi'ais.' :: 
 
Oh, loved by me beyond what words 
 Or sighs have e'er expressed, 
 
 Thine are life's ills till Heaven affords 
 To my beloved rest. 
 
 Htntttt %tnn 
 
 Come ye yourselves apart and rest awhile ; 
 
 The sun sinks in the west, 
 The day is passed with all its varied toil ; 
 'Tis time for rest. 
 
 Come ye from counting-house and busy mart, 
 
 From crowded street — arrest 
 
 The hurrying thoughts which agitate the heart; 
 
 'Tis time for rest. 
 
 Come at God's bidding from the long, long toil 
 
 For that which is not best. 
 And seek in humble trust a Father's smile, 
 And calmly rest. 
 
 46 
 
A2iiirnt 
 
 The morning light is breal<ine 
 
 Through all the eastern sky 
 And glorious beams are flashing 
 
 In radiancy on high; 
 Ihe clouds in rolling masses 
 
 Are fringed with seven-fold light 
 And deepening in their splendor 
 
 As day succeeds the night. 
 
 Already angel cohorts 
 
 Are standing in array. 
 Ami waiting for the signal 
 
 To rise and speed awav : 
 
 VVifhTv, 'n- ="''^'^?"&^1'^ trumpet 
 
 With thrilling blast shall sound 
 
 Throughout death's dark dominions, 
 
 And wake from sleep profound. 
 
 And while the saints are waking 
 And mounting up on high, 
 
 May we in that blest concourse 
 Speed upward through the skv • 
 
 And upward, ever upward, 
 
 x-^r .P?,'^'^ commanding word. 
 
 We shall ascend in triumph 
 To meet the coming Lord 
 
 47 
 
Along the crowded, busy street 
 The windows glitter with display 
 
 Of tempting wares, and busy feet 
 Are hurrying onward day by day ; 
 
 The Christmas cheer is in the air, 
 
 And Christmas-tide is everywhere. 
 
 The greedy world is all elate 
 
 To barter merchandise for gold ; 
 
 And merchant prince and huckster prate 
 Of wondrous bargains manifold, — 
 
 When Christmas cheer is in the air. 
 
 And Christmas-tide is everywhere. 
 
 I'ut Christ, whose Name the season bears, 
 Sees His own house deserted quite, — 
 
 But half-adorned for praise and prayer, 
 While all the busy world is bright, 
 
 And Christmas cheer is in the air, 
 
 And Christmas-tide is everywhere. 
 
 That Name is scrawled on merchandise; 
 
 His holy season, bought with blood 
 Of saints, is time to advertise 
 
 The wares of Mammon and his brood ; 
 Though Christmas cheer is in the air. 
 The Christ is bartered evervwhere. 
 
 48 
 
(ElitiBtttmB 
 
 • Unto us a Child is born ; unto us a Son is given.' 
 Wake, happy morn, whose story brings 
 
 A joyous thrill to young and' old : 
 While speeding near, on hovering wings. 
 The angels sweep their harps of gold; 
 And earth and sky 
 In numbers vie. 
 Rehearsing how upon this morn, 
 Long years ago, 
 'Mid sin and woe, 
 That unto us a Child was born. 
 
 And ever, as the years go b\-. 
 
 The glorious chant is sung again. 
 By angel choristers on high. 
 Of peace on earth, good will to men : 
 And as the song 
 Floats far along 
 Where toil the weary and the worn, 
 The message comes 
 To hearts and homes. 
 That unto us a Child is born. 
 
 Hail, glorious morn, whose advent brings 
 
 Hope for the sinful and defiled ! 
 Hail, blessed morn, the King of Kings 
 Comes to the world a little Child ! 
 And singing still 
 Peace and good will. 
 The angels come this happy morn. 
 To tell again 
 To sons of men. 
 That unto us a Child is born. 
 
 49 
 
^t Vitbmptian 
 
 'Tis night, and over all the darkling skv 
 Sweep eboii clouds, with here and there a flash 
 Of distant lightning, serving but to show 
 llic depth of gloom which covers land and sea ■ 
 AiKl in the gloom no sound is heard: the bird 
 Ut night has hushed her notes, and. motionless 
 h'erches alone upon a lofty bough. 
 And mopes in silence quiet as the grave 
 Ihe place is weird: great gnarled olive trees 
 Ut ancient growth, beneath whose spreading 
 boughs, ^ 
 
 Umbrageous, matted vines and flowers grow' 
 
 wild, '' 
 
 Stand like so many hoarv sentinels 
 And cast a deeper gloom' upon the scone. 
 
 A siidden waking — sound of steps is heard 
 siTs*^^' whispering low, and groans and 
 
 Which tell of desolation and despair: 
 Then four forlorn sojourners to that place 
 Uf mystic darkness wend their wav. and One 
 some paces in advance, moves slo'wlv on 
 Ihe three in sorrow sink upon the ground 
 And sob themselves to sleep: but He, whose 
 steps 
 
 Have brought Him to the place of deepest gloom. 
 In solitude kneels down, and, lifting hands 
 And eyes toward heaven, in desolation pravs 
 While from His upturned Brow the 'blood 
 
 streams down : 
 The life blood oozing out at every pore. 
 (Oh, wondrous, unexampled agony') 
 Suffusing face and breast with crimson sweat 
 He swoons! He falls I But, no! Behold, a form 
 
 5° 
 
To Him appears, and, with a reverent touch 
 
 °?lS^d; °"' "" "^^ "'^ horrid maTks of 
 While words of comfort and of couraire breathe 
 Heroic fortitude into His soul. ^ ^ 
 
 And hope of everlasting victory. 
 
 Again 'tis darkness, and He is alone 
 But for a space, and awful silence reigns- 
 Then suddenly, as when a driving wim" 
 Brings clouds of locusts, which devour the eorn 
 Ten thousand thousand dismal shades sweep by' 
 On dusky wings upborne, and each pronounce," 
 A hissing curse on Him who prays, and str've 
 
 ButTl' '"* "'T' ^""^ destroy Him there 
 But looking upward to the murky sky. 
 He heeds not all their malice; He but hinks 
 Of victory and triumph over death 
 AndS- ^'T Vi'"'" "'' companions sleep, 
 
 hour?" ^^ "°' '"^^"^ ""■'*' ^^« °"e 
 
 And then returns and prays as at the first. 
 Yet once again He rises from the ground 
 And goes to look upon the helpless ones 
 Who sleep m sorrow. " Even so," saith He 
 
 Sleeps all this hapless worid in sin and death- 
 And I alone can wake the dead to life 
 As in the book 'tis written, lo! I come'" 
 Hp'f,r'' u° ^'' accustomed place of praver 
 Sn^,^%?" ',T'>^ '"^y' ='"d- kneeling down 
 
 "Pa^herint h"'""'Kf'T^ "^ prayed^befo^; 
 father, if it be possible, let pass 
 
 This bitter cup: but yet Thy will be done! " 
 
 A thrill, an ecstasy of power supreme 
 
 And infinite comes over Him; and forth 
 
 Alone in His omnipotence He goes, 
 
 lo tread the winepress of Almighty God! 
 
 S' 
 
u 
 
 " Come," saith He to His sleeping comrades, 
 
 "Come, 
 He that betrayeth Me is close at hand." 
 And soon the flaring torches borne aloft 
 By hands unholy of a multitude 
 Approach in weird disorder, marshaled on 
 By one foredoomed and reprobate. Thev halt. 
 " Whom seek ye ? " As from Sinai's brow, the 
 
 words 
 Vibrate upon the nightly air, and strike 
 Terror and consternation to the heart. 
 As if a bolt from heav'n in fury hurled 
 Had smitten all that multitude, they fall 
 Prostrate and stricken to the ground, amazed. 
 But He restrains His power omnipotent : 
 He wills not to destroy, but to retrieve. 
 
 And then draws nigh perdition's perjured slave, 
 And with a kiss — what seemed a loving kiss — 
 He designates the Victim, and is gone. 
 We follow with the rabble, and behold 
 The assembled council waiting to condemn 
 From perjured evidence the Anointed One. 
 And then to Pilate's judgment hall we go, 
 And hear the brutal judge, to pity moved, 
 Pleading for mercy. Then to Herod's court 
 We take our way, and note the travesty — 
 The purple robe, the kneeling, and the words 
 Of mockery; and back again we go 
 To Pilate's hall of judgment, and once more 
 We hear the pleading of the pitying judge: 
 " Behold your King! " A moment all is hushed, 
 And then, as if from hell, the loud acclaim: 
 " Release Barabbas ! Crucify the Christ ! " 
 They spit upon Him, smite Him on the face. 
 Clothe Him in scarlet, plate the crown of thorns, 
 And rudely press it on His Sacred Head ; 
 
 { 
 
 52 
 
A rccd for sceptre in His hand thev place. 
 Ihen 111 mock liomape bow the inip'ious knee' 
 And now they bind Him to the pillar's base, 
 While brawny arms are bared, and scourees 
 
 raised. " 
 
 And blow on blow successively conies down 
 In rapid strokes, which lacerate and tear 
 „ t '''^X" ""; P'?w scores deep the virgin soil ! 
 To Golpotha!" the hoarse, rough Ihout is 
 raised. 
 The Victim is unbound, and on tlini laid 
 The ponderous timbers of the fatal Cross • 
 And thus the awful jounicv is bcim 
 With shouts, and oaths, and hia.rphcmies. He 
 
 falls. 
 Exhausted, faint, and blcedinR. to the ground • 
 And for a moment all is still, uhcn, nKux-d 
 And urged by deep compassion, rushes one — 
 A sun-dyed stranger— from the rabble throng 
 And takes the Cross, and bears it to the place 
 (Jf execution. Soon the soldiers' work 
 Is finished. The Messiah with His blood 
 Is cleansing now the fallen sons of men • 
 By merits bridging o'er the gulf profound 
 Impassable before, which intervened 
 'Twixt earth and heaven ; and blotting records 
 
 Which man in vain had oft essa\ed to do. 
 
 heaven's burning eye is 
 
 Slow pass the hour 
 
 closed ; 
 
 The moon withholds her light, and. as it were 
 I he curtains of deep midnight shut from sight 
 Ihe work stupendous of redeeming I ove 
 Angels are gazing o'er the crvstal walls 
 And battlements of heaven upon that scene 
 IJesiring more and more to understand 
 
 S3 
 
I 
 
 Justice divine and mercy reconciled. 
 
 " 'Tis done ! " the Victim cries, and suddenlv 
 
 A sevenfold radiance flashes from the Cross,' 
 
 Which like a central sun, in noontide glow, 
 
 Grows bright and brighter to the perfect dav, 
 
 Diffusing light and splendor far away 
 
 To earth's remotest bounds, in east and west. 
 
 Throughout the courts and palaces of heaven 
 
 Hosannas "-''ng, and never until then 
 
 Were heard such glad acclaims ; on flowery 
 
 meads 
 Atid golden streets the tiironging myriads. 
 With harps and viols, raise the triumph song. 
 And fill the universe with harmonv. 
 While angels hymn the praise of Him who died, 
 And thus brought life and immortality 
 To light by His evangel, He goes forth 
 In Spirit to proclaim in Paradise 
 The story of redemption ; nor forgot 
 Are those who, when the flood of waters swept 
 O'er loftiest mountains, sank beneath the waves. 
 And died in ignorance ; to them He goes. 
 And tells of vanquished death, and life reclaimed. 
 
 Oh, work stupendcms, wondrous, infinite! 
 But One in all the universe could bring 
 So much to pass, nor fail in aught essayed ! 
 And yet 'twas from humility there sprang 
 The power to will and do ; 'twas as He prayed, 
 Prone on the earth, Omnipotence revived ; 
 And from the place of prayer He rose to wage 
 The war of conquest to the gates of hell, 
 O'ercame the enemy of God and man. 
 And won again the lost inheritance. 
 
 54 
 
JBo tiff Jiarquia of Buffirrin and Aba 
 
 " Clandeboye, 
 Co. Down, Ireland, 
 
 .. JT J w ., "'"' Fch'y, igoi. 
 
 My dear Mr. Newell: 
 
 Many, many thanks for vour very kind 
 letter. I have indeed been wading through very 
 deep waters, and no more grateful alleviations 
 have come to mc in the midst of my many sor- 
 rows than those which I have received from my 
 kind and faithful friends in Canada; but never 
 have I been so deeply touched as by the tender 
 regard embodied in your beautiful verses. They 
 have gone straight to my heart, and my wife has 
 been as much affected as myself. 
 
 Nothing could have beeii more grateful to my 
 feelings than the tender and aflfectionate sympathy 
 which they convey. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Mr. Newell, 
 
 Yours very sincerely. 
 
 DuiFERlN ,\ND .AVA." 
 
 We mourn today our Empress-Queen, 
 Whose glorious sway o'er land and sea 
 
 Seems like a golden link between 
 The past and that which is to be. 
 
 And yet amid the Empire's grief 
 We turn, at mem'ry's kind behest, 
 
 To him whose star once ruled as chief 
 In our horizon of the West. 
 
 'Twas long ago when he and she — 
 Two names which proudly we recall — 
 
 Came to our West Land o'er the sea 
 To grace the courts of Rideau Hall. 
 
 57 
 
I i I 
 
 i 
 
 A yf»" ""« •hen have hastened on, 
 And bhghted hopes of love's younp dream ; 
 •^"'' "lany a treasure since has pone. 
 Which time ami age can ne'er redeem. 
 
 ' )h ! what a desolate domain 
 
 Has life's fair frarden-Rround become ; 
 And few the roses that remain, 
 
 To tell of peace, and joy, and home! 
 
 Still love abides, and o'er the scene 
 
 Of desolation sheds a light. 
 Which consecrates whate'cr has been 
 
 And pilds the Ratlicring clouds of night. 
 
 Friend of my Country, far away 
 ,,,1.Y,'' '"■■" our Kaze kcross the sea. 
 While hope and inem'ry. day by day 
 Are still with thee— 'are 'still with thee! 
 
 Jfo Mr. m. K. «!rl,arJUi0n. ffl.p. 
 
 Could wishes rehabilitate 
 
 The honored name of Ricliardson 
 
 And once more surely reinstate 
 
 The man who many a contest won ; 
 
 How soon embarrassment would vield 
 
 To kind evangels of success : 
 And honest worth should take the field 
 
 To win the guerdon of redress. 
 
 Yet hope on eagle pinions soars 
 O'er mount and moorland near and far 
 
 And looks beyond the nameless shores 
 Where fortune waged a luckless war 
 
 S8 
 
 I 
 
'"shT' "'V'™"!""'' '•> IH- wo., 
 Th,;* '"',''^'''"'' "hatcer has been 
 That fr.cn.ls .,..,1 f,,,.., shall gaze rnxDn 
 
 Thes,ru»g|.,„,„ieha,lcn%hZ?win. 
 
 There is no failure l,„t „,av prove 
 
 Ureanis „. siu .ess. a..,l .Iwells alK.ve 
 1 he common level of mankind. 
 
 He may appear to suffer loss 
 
 And sometimes meet a col.l world's frown ■ 
 »>it often that which seems a cross 
 
 May Ik- the sl,a<l„w of a crown. 
 
 Look upward to the mrnmtain height 
 Whose snowclad pinnacles appear ' 
 u?l*",'''""* '" "'*■ "f'iant liRht 
 Which change-^ not from year to >ear. 
 
 So tnanhood true to Heaven's design. 
 
 Remains the same in bloom or hlight 
 \Vh.le on Its lofty summits shine 
 
 I he siinherims of eternal light. 
 
 ) 
 
 Sy 
 
 W^'^W^ % 'iJlM. 
 
ifatl, SrrtJrm nf % Msstit «jtr 
 
 Hail! brethren of the mystic rite, 
 
 With whom I companied in the past, 
 Once more comes round the festal night. 
 
 When care unto the winds is cast ; 
 And brethren meet around the board 
 
 Where Friendship's loving-cup is quafTcd 
 To celebrate with one accord 
 
 An ancient landmark of the Craft. 
 
 While far away from you tonight, 
 
 I muse o'er happy times gone by ; 
 For years in their successive flight 
 
 Can never darken mem'ry's eye. 
 The past has vanished like a flood 
 
 Whose torrent rushes down the hill ; 
 But tokens of true brotherhood 
 
 Are with me — thrill me — cheer me still. 
 
 Some, who were with us in the past, 
 
 Shall meet with us, alas ! no more. 
 Their star at length was overcast. 
 
 To shine upon a brighter shore. 
 And younger feet the burdens bear, 
 
 Which aged feet had borne so long ; 
 And younger hands the labors share — 
 
 May they be trusty, true, and strong ! 
 
 May Heaven's All-Seeing Eye behold 
 
 No wandering from the sphere of right ■ 
 But whatsoever may unfold. 
 
 Let there be light'— let there be light ' 
 Farewell ! while ye together meet. 
 
 As ancient custom would commend. 
 Within the sacred safe retreat, 
 
 Remember then an absent friend. 
 
 60 
 
Mizpaif 
 
 The U>r<l between i,s watch while we 
 .pAV"'-^'"°'"^^<=h other, 
 I hat thou a sister be to me, 
 
 And I to thee a brother; 
 Whatever paths o„r feet niav trea.l 
 
 V hatever blessings cheer „r 
 
 )l », -•/ ^''' "'^' "^°" art led 
 In spirit ever near me. 
 
 The Lor,l between „s watch by day 
 \\ hen cares our hours encumber 
 And';™.!!" ''''■'^""' f^d*' 
 
 Th^ Lord^t" '''='P""' '" '^""^, 
 \ ?u "^'ween us watch, until 
 Anther day is breaking 
 
 6i 
 
rr^-= 
 
 Martini} 
 
 Do you romeinber how we stood 
 
 The night we said good-bye, 
 As hand in hand, a tearful band, 
 
 Our parting song swelled high? 
 We looked like those who met to part. 
 
 Your hand the while in mine ; 
 And while we felt the grief at heart. 
 
 We sang of Auld Lang Syne. 
 
 Full many sang with us that night 
 
 Who ne'er shall meet as then 
 To sing the song with heart and tongue 
 
 When partings come again ; 
 And two were there who felt the most 
 
 The throb in every line 
 Of that old song, and learnt the cost 
 
 Of singing Auld Lang Syne. 
 
 The night is long since passed, and vet 
 
 The mem'ry is the same ; 
 Time cannot teach us to forget 
 
 The thrill which o'er us came ; 
 And till the last our hearts shall turn 
 
 To that sad day's decline. 
 When hand in hand, a tearful band. 
 
 We sang of Auld Lang Syne. 
 
 62 
 
aio Artlpir 
 
 Dear Arthur, lis thy natal clay. 
 When like a sunbeam on our wav 
 Thou earnest where the shadows lav, 
 
 And siimincr suns were shining; 
 And for a while the brightness beamed 
 Before us, and around us gleamed 
 A fairyland, and fancy dreamed. 
 
 With young hope intertwining. 
 
 How proudly expectation caught 
 The thrill of life's supremest thought. 
 And from the mountain summit brought 
 
 The tints which deck the morning ; 
 And all the valley shone with light, 
 As upland slope and rugged height 
 Were bathed in splendors pure and bright. 
 
 Enriched with love's adorning. 
 
 But, ah I too .soon the flush was gone, 
 And where our laggard feet went on. 
 The light of life grew pale and wan, 
 
 Like twilight o'er the meadows ; 
 And then we knew the pathway led 
 Where never this world's light was shed. 
 And thou, dear child, alone must tread 
 
 The valley of the shadows! 
 
 But never comes thy natal day 
 Without remembrance of the 'ra\- 
 Of glorious sunshine, passed away. 
 
 Like flash of summer lightning; 
 And far beyond the western skv. 
 Where we shall journey by and by. 
 The everlasting land.scapes' lie. 
 
 Still nearer seen, and bright'ning. 
 
 f-i 
 
Yes, nearer seen in l)rijfht'iiin)r jrlnw. 
 The vistas open as we go 
 In quest of what we lost below. 
 
 When mists were rountl us clinging- 
 And soon our eyes shall gaze on thee. 
 Where those upon the glassv sea — 
 Th innumerable compan\' — 
 The triumph-song are singing ! 
 
 My boy, thon'rt very dear to me. 
 But thou canst neither know nor sec 
 What changeless love to thee I give. 
 Aor how for thee I long to live. 
 To \iatch thine infant vears, and jov 
 To see thy mind expand, my boy. 
 
 Thy brother had as fair a brow — 
 Was bright with intellect as thou : 
 But by the wayside where he trod. 
 His spirit passed from earth to God. 
 And I could only murmur — Why ? 
 And weep in sorrow o'er my boy. ' 
 
 Forever closed his sparkling eyes. 
 At rest beneath the sod he lies'. 
 Where roses bloom, and shadowing trees 
 .Sigh requiems in the passing breeze ; 
 And love, and light, and hope, and jov 
 Seemed lost forever with my boy. 
 
 But thou art with me, as today 
 With thy sweet innocence I play. 
 And see thy face all wreathed in smiles 
 Like waves of light o'er sun-kissed isles • 
 
 64 
 
And not a pleasure ?^eenis to clov 
 I hine innocent delight, my boy.' 
 
 I think of days whicli are to be 
 
 And what those <la>s shall bring to thee 
 
 Of joy or grief, of weal or woe 
 
 ■\J' varynig seasons come and go 
 
 Ami varying cares thy life employ. 
 
 When thou art older grown, my boy. 
 
 rhose t,m- feet -where shall the^■ tr^ad 
 
 Shin ;' """'•,"'" "'^' ''^il^- bread? 
 ■Sha 1 virtue guide, or vice decov, 
 In days which are to come, my boy? 
 
 (^pd grant tliat whatsoe'er tin fate 
 Thou may St in honor's cause be gri-at 
 Prepared to stand by what is riglft 
 Ordie ,f need be, i„. the fight ^ 
 rhus^glad to live or proud to die 
 J50 Shalt thou triumph still, my boy, 
 
 ®n intfiB (gralram 
 
 Days ago a message came 
 Fraught with wishes in vour name ■ 
 Wishes or which thanks are due 
 Oratefully, my friend, to vou 
 May your words of blessiiig be 
 Answered not alone on me 
 
 Frm.TK^ "•'"■'''''" '" S-^dness shed 
 l-r|iial blessings on your head. 
 
 6S 
 
i <i 
 
iElfStar l^oitttB 
 
I 
 
9n Mmaty af tift IBarquiB of Batttrbi 
 mb Aba 
 
 ■' His life wa-* gentle, and (he elements 
 So mixed in him that Nature might stand up 
 And say to all the world — This was a Man." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Till- silviT cord is loosud, tlic goldon bowl 
 Is broken at the fount, tlic pitcher rent, 
 And as in other days the wheel no more 
 rjraws up the precious, life-sustaining draught. 
 IJack to the native dust again return 
 The conl the bowl, the pitcher, and the wheel; 
 While that mysterious aeon we call \\li\ 
 Whose cunning skill and quick intelligence 
 Kept all in motion through the many years 
 Of great achievements, weary grown at last 
 In shaping oft an Empire s destiny. 
 Goes out upon ih' eternal sea, which rolls 
 Its billows round the world ; and finds repose 
 And solace in the I'aradise of God. 
 
 We waive the years when he attendant stood 
 
 In the full light and splendor of the throne. 
 
 The brightest star in Britain's galaxy 
 
 Of noble manhood ; so of other days ' 
 
 We put aside the record, when afar, 
 
 In many lands, he held within his grasp 
 
 The destinies of nations, and, supreme 
 
 O'er every adverse wave of circumstance. 
 
 Brought order out of chaos, and conserved 
 
 The Crown's prerogatives and freemen's rights. 
 
 Great were his aims and his achievements great. 
 Where'er he moved a magic atmosphere 
 Surrounded him ; and those who would contend. 
 
 69 
 
 I 
 
Siitxluod. as by some subtle alchemy. 
 Became his pupils, proud to rank as such. 
 
 I'lUt 'twas as Man and Citizen were seen 
 His gfrcatness and his gentleness at best, 
 When roU' and coronet were laid aside, 
 With all the pomp and circumstance of state. 
 Then wisdom spake, and wit electric flashed, 
 While dignity and merriment conjoined 
 To build the stately edifice of thought. 
 Which, like the Temple on Moriah's crest. 
 Was perfect in its parts, and beautiful — 
 So stone too many, and no stone too few. 
 
 Where stands his equal in true dignity 
 And suavity, which mark the Gentleman ? 
 The world is poorer now that he is gone ; 
 And vaiidy shall we l(X)k through high and low- 
 Tor one who so combined the elements. 
 And taught us what God's image is in man. 
 r>ut greatness is not proof against the blows 
 Of adverse fortune: and this man of men, 
 Whose heart was all aglow with sympathy 
 I'or ills of others, Ixjwed at length' beneath 
 The load of anguish, when the cold, still form 
 Of an heroic son from far came home — 
 A pale mute herald from the battlefield. 
 Whose message, though unspoken, told of death. 
 
 Half-mast the banners, toll the passing-bell, 
 A great soul now is rising into light 
 Beyond the confines of this darker world : 
 And there, where Gotl shall wipe away all tears. 
 The weary soul shall find the welcome rest, 
 Until the kingdoms of this world become 
 The kingdoms of our God and of His Christ. 
 And w' 1 His saints triumphant He shall reign. 
 When time shall lose the record of the years. 
 
 70 
 
(To IHi) Qouijlftrr Etlflrm 
 I 
 
 At last the iiKniriiful day has come — 
 
 A sad November day — 
 When sunhght tints, in Rathering kI'k'i" 
 
 Ikifin to pass away : 
 And skies, all hilRhtly flecked at morn. 
 lire noiintiile hour to darkness tm n. 
 
 As with the sunheanis and the skies. 
 
 VX'hen antnnni days are come. 
 So eartlily hope in darkness dies. 
 
 And sinks into the tomb. 
 Where all onr little dreams at last 
 In blast anil blight are overcast. 
 
 As it has been, so shall it be. 
 
 Henceforth, foreverniore : 
 The dream shall reach maturity. 
 
 Hilt, ere its thrill be o'er. 
 A blast may come, a blipht max cast 
 A long deep sha<low o'er the past. 
 
 It is a sad Xoveniber da_\ . 
 
 And in our lonely home 
 A solemn change has brought decay 
 
 To life's primeval bloom : 
 And withered on life's rugged shore. 
 Our blossom cheers us now no more. 
 
 Sweet memories of other days 
 
 Revive, as in a dream 
 The ever changing view displays 
 
 The shadow and the gleam. 
 Which gives the picture God's design. 
 And stamps it all in all divine. 
 
 7« 
 
Oh, could wf look beyond the veil, 
 
 Where dwell the saints in light. 
 Such blissful vision should avail. 
 
 And charm our ravished sif;ht ; 
 And wc might hear the minstrels\ 
 Of harpers on the crystal sea. 
 
 How foolish then would seem tile lear> 
 
 Of Rachel o'tr the de.ld, 
 Who, in her af;on> and fears. 
 
 Woulil not lie comforted; 
 One look beyond this misty sphere 
 Would Rlad the heart, and' dry the tear 
 
 Hut for a little while, j;.)od-bye. 
 
 .My long-alllicted one ; 
 Safe in the palace of the sk\. 
 
 lieyond the radiant suti. 
 Thy brother welcomes thee toiiav 
 Where hope can never fade awa.\. 
 
 And there, where vales and iiujiMitains clad 
 
 In light for thine abode. 
 And by the river which makes glad 
 
 The City of our Cod. 
 Beyond all bieadth. and depth, and height. 
 Exult in everlasting light ! 
 
 IF 
 
 'Tis the first Hake of snow which has fall'n on 
 thy breast. 
 
 Since in .sorrow we laid thee, our first-born, at 
 rest. 
 
 Where the storms of the winter shall never In- 
 heard, 
 
 Nor at glad-coming springtide the song of the 
 bird. 
 
 7» 
 
iiin was 
 [im-pect 
 
 r-.llv 
 
 As (hmi |.ill„vv\t tl,> lu.ad wIutc tin brother liav 
 slept 
 
 l-or the sno,v sfe.ns a cov'rinK t.«, cold f„r th> 
 With n„ roof l,„t the sky rea.Mn;; over thy heail. 
 
 We were careful for thee mIiiL iliv .,, , 
 here, ' 
 
 We were thoiiRhtfiil f •. mi.t. .,■■ ,l 
 (s'rew drear: 
 
 Hilt now that dear ;„i. ,. ■,,•!, c|. >v( 
 caressed, 
 
 Is shelterless laid w.-.h tlie m',.v. ,„, t!r. hrcast. 
 
 Oh ! sad desolation is hroodinR Inl m 
 Where the ho|)es we once .!„,, iu,l are i.uricl 
 in snow ; 
 
 Whlr^i.^'"'!', "^ "^^ ^i'"'*^'' ^^^■^■'^^'' '»■" 'hv bed. 
 thv head! " 'l--"-kness thon piflow'st 
 
 HI 
 
 '^hc Christmas-tide has come and pone 
 
 (A time to her devoid of ploom 
 Ev n when her cheek grew pale and wan. 
 
 And youth denied to her its bloom.) 
 
 And many were the gifts she made 
 Agamst the coming Christmas-tide • 
 
 And. ah ! when lowlv she was laid 
 
 We prized them for her sake who died. 
 
 T° "s the bright glad season came 
 With one dark shadow ca'it athwart 
 
 *-'"r,.P?'hway, and we s|>oke l;er lume 
 With bated breath and aching heart. 
 
 73 
 
 i 
 
fr 
 
 A liiisli liad {all'ii upon our lionic. 
 
 A silence all unknown till then : 
 And wlien we thouf;lit that she should conn-. 
 
 Alas! she could not come again! 
 
 The husy world (,'ocs on the same : 
 
 The places she freiiuevitcd most 
 Scarce recognize her well-known name — 
 
 Her very memory seems lost. 
 
 Tis only in the home where dwell 
 
 The ones who loved her tlirough the years 
 That memory awakes to tell 
 
 The tale of suffering, death, at\d tears. 
 
 There, as the darkened days go hy. 
 
 Her absence never is forgot: 
 The saddened heart, the frequent sigli 
 .\re tokens of the loving thought. 
 
 N'othing but love survives, and hides 
 Her little faults. whateVr they were : 
 
 It wanes not. fails not. s, 1' abides, 
 And sanctifies each thougl-.t of her, 
 
 IV 
 
 Come, genial Spring, and speak to me 
 Of Nature waking from the tomb: 
 
 And in thy coming I shall sec 
 A hope of better things to come. 
 
 The winter of our discontent 
 
 Is merging in the fuller light 
 And radiance of the firmament. 
 
 Beyond the confines of the night. 
 
 Soon shall the twilight, in whose gloom 
 We see in part and know in part, 
 
 74 
 
 it' 
 
The brightness of the day assume. 
 When storms shall cease and clouds depart, 
 
 "From'h',V-' r""=".«I'""g-tide break 
 Ti,„ l"'"/ '°"S ^^'"ter, to renew 
 The waste of ages, an.l awake 
 
 lo life and light the flowers that grew 
 In pensive beauty where we trod 
 
 1 he pathway with uneven pace- 
 And Nature looking „p to God, 
 Shall catch th' effulgence of His face! 
 
 V 
 
 Which "' \^' ^ ^'^"ff^l'^^ss love. 
 
 All. all was bright below, above. 
 
 We come with sorrow's wreaths to pl.^ce 
 ,,,P'"- tribute of affection here 
 Where hope awhile forbears to trace 
 1 he issue of its high career. 
 
 And yet, despite our falling tears 
 
 An expectation, redolent 
 Of Paradise, o'crleaps the \ear^ 
 
 Between us and that one Kvent. 
 
 Which comes upon the wheels of timc> 
 
 Mill nearer, as the da\s go b\ • 
 And looking to the heights sublime 
 
 We seem to hear the midnight cry: 
 
 " The Bri<Iegroom cometh ! " .S„,l,!e„h 
 ia.th hears the heavenly heralds sing- 
 Uh, grave where is thv victorv "^ 
 Oh, death! oh. .leath ! where is thv stl„g-- ■ 
 
 
 I'i] 
 
 i 
 
 A 
 
m < 
 
 ■ I 
 
 f 
 
 QIa fly ^on Artlptr 
 
 Not dead — not dead, my child, but gone 
 
 A little while to rest. 
 Until the breaking of the dawn, 
 
 To be a welcome guest 
 With those who have the battle fought, 
 And won the victory they sought. 
 
 I wept when last I saw thy face, 
 
 And knew I should no more 
 Behold thee, till, in God's rich grace. 
 
 Upon the farther shore, 
 I should thy dazzling presence sec. 
 And joy in Paradise with thee! 
 
 And now, iin son, thy sister goes 
 
 To thine abode of peace ; 
 I see her drooping like the rose. 
 
 .And waiting for release, -- 
 And, oh ! mv heart — it breaks — it breaks. 
 For all that'Heav'n recalls and takes! 
 
 But patience — patience ! earthly loss 
 
 Must never shake the trust 
 Of anv soldier of the Cross, 
 
 Who owns that God is just: 
 Mv blossoms, now despoiled, shall bloom 
 in' fadeless light beyond the tomb. 
 
 And I a little while shall stay. 
 Where waves and storms are rife. 
 
 Until I too am called away 
 To that unchanging life. 
 
 To meet in joy, and peace, an<i rest 
 
 The stainless spirits of the blest. 
 
 And there upon the heights sublime. 
 Where man has never trod. 
 
 76 
 
 ili 
 
W liere never more the mists of time 
 
 Shall hide the face of Gnd 
 I he ransomed of the Lord shall come 
 And clann their everlasting home ! 
 
 J^rankltn dirCrag 
 
 THE ACTOR 
 " After life's fitful fever, lie sleeps well." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 He is gone, who but yesterdav stood forth in 
 
 T,Slory, 
 
 The pride of his calling, so hopeful and younu. 
 The man who to thousands depicted the storv' 
 
 Of life as the sweet Swan of Avon had sung. 
 
 And where thousands of plaudits re-echoed his 
 praises. 
 When Cassius contrived or /ago cajoled 
 In vam now the eye of the multitude gaze's 
 No more is he seen wh,5 aroused and 'con- 
 trolled. 
 
 And Canada mourns with a heart of d«n sad- 
 ness '^ 
 For him who was first in her annals <,f fame- 
 And the sweet song of love and the lit'ht note 
 of gladness 
 Are hushed at the sound of his magical name. 
 
 And afar in the home, where his sweet smile was 
 brightest. 
 The one who loved dearest is .lesolate there; 
 And while sadly she mourns him. the heart which 
 was lightest 
 Is heaviest now in its premature care. 
 
 P 
 
 ;i 
 
 77 
 
lie is gone, an.l forever - alas ! an.l so youthful. 
 
 The man of all ages, an.l tmios ami degree. 
 
 Tlic lover an.l friend, who m all things was 
 
 Whose "un set ere midday in turbulent seas. 
 But hke Phcenix shall rise from his desolate 
 
 A^ong line of worthies to stand where he 
 Andihe fame which he won, as it dazzles and 
 
 Shau\'iorify him who was noble and good! 
 
 h'i 
 
 '. 
 
 78 
 
 'J:l u~ . DCK2 • L.t.ismmet^'^^Bmy 
 
Jfrrdrrirb SintiB WiStr Ktlfim 
 
 ()f hiRh descent ami jjentle reariiiK, tlioii 
 Hadst tliat Ml tliee wherewith Heaven doth endow 
 ■ut few, and those the favorites, from whom 
 I erpetnal simshine cliases all the gloom, 
 And makes unclouded brightness all the day 
 And gladness reigns, and shadows flee away.' 
 
 Old m thy wisdom, but in manner voung. 
 ■Skdled Ml the graces t,f a guarded tongue • 
 l-irm to withstand, and fearless to assail 
 1 he bland temptations which in vouth prevail ■ 
 Irankness and gentleness in thee were joined 
 lo give <iirection to thy generous mind. 
 .Such was thy character, that age deferred 
 And youth respected, whilst fhv.self ileterred 
 All consciousness of each suiieri'or grace 
 W Inch warmed the heart, and lightened o'er the 
 face. 
 In vain we search among the voung and olil 
 lor one like thee of virtues manifold; 
 And as upon the mound which haps tliv head 
 he tears of love and deep regret are shed: 
 And sorrow clings to niemVv's greenest spot. 
 Which never shall be in the lears forgot- 
 We summon back the thoughts of other' davs 
 And stand like mournful statues in amaze 
 lieholding. in the presence of tin tomb. 
 To what small compass all life's hopes have 
 come. 
 But human hearts, repine not, nor rebel- 
 uie race was nobly run, and all is well. 
 
 II 
 
 1 
 
 ) 
 
 79 
 

 m 
 
 Vabrrt fitmn Visgar 
 
 • Mark llH- perfect man. ami hvW.Ul ihe upright; for 
 tlie end of that man is peace. 
 
 When good men ilie. a void remains, 
 Which time repairs not in the years 
 Succeeding all the hopes and fears 
 The grave encloses and retains. 
 
 \nd hearts max- break, and tears may fall, 
 '! he kindly faces smile no more 
 Upon us. as in days of yore. 
 
 When they to us were all in all. 
 
 The grave forever keeps in trust 
 The treasures of departed years: 
 The words alone ring in our ears 
 
 Of earth to earth and dust to dust . 
 
 And thou, whose name is hour by hour 
 \ household word wherever known. 
 Wert Cod's own wheat divinely sown 
 
 In weakness to be raised in power. 
 
 True gentleman of motives high 
 And character of truth and grace. 
 Thou hadst thine own jieculiar place. 
 
 Which no one else could occupy. 
 
 God lent thee to the world awhile. 
 
 To show what manhood may become; 
 And now has gentlv called thee home. 
 
 To meet thy children's welcome smile. 
 
 Oh happv, happv is thy sphere. 
 
 Beyond what we can dream or know 
 While we must sojourn still below. 
 
 And dailv mourn thine absence here. 
 
 80 
 
But Mu-nrry calls to mind the vears 
 Thy feet til" path of duty trod : 
 And hope -raints upward' unto God 
 
 Trmmphant through the mist of tears. 
 
 BaJrii mniB. HM.. ECS.. 3mUt of tiff 
 Suprnttf (Hmxrt of ffimtafta 
 
 VVRITrK.V BY RFCQUEST 
 
 \\ hen the young Nation took her destined place 
 And set herself to run the strenuous race 
 Of nationhood, not heeding leer or frown 
 1-rom terraced seats, whence nianv eves looked 
 
 down 
 Of old competitors, whose strength r)ft tried 
 In that arena won. where others died 
 She saw her few proud children — heard their 
 
 cheer, 
 Which urged her onward in licr high career 
 To reach the goal. and. for herself and them 
 lo win the laurel and the ditidcni. 
 And one whose cheer rose clearest, hope-inspired, 
 hhe heard and heeded, as the long race tired 
 Her inexperience, and new vigor came 
 In every adverse time at his acclaim : 
 She heard and heeded his acclaim, nor stood 
 Inactive, till the crown of nationhood 
 Lpon her brow was set, an<l she steppe<l forth 
 In queenly grace the Mistress of the N'orth 
 
 Years sped and he. upon life's varied stage — 
 I he Statesman. Jurist. Poet, Scholar, Sage — 
 In labors oft, and in achievements great 
 For God and man, beheld the proud estate 
 To which the Nation had attained ; and grew 
 A part of all things, whether old or new 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 
I' I 
 
 )" 
 
 ,il 
 
 )■ 
 
 
 Fame, honor, gratitude he won. and gained 
 The loftv height by honesty unstained : 
 \nd with th' iUustrious Roman* in accord, 
 lie taught that virtue is her own reward. 
 Hut at the zenith of distinction came 
 Th' inexorable summons, in the name 
 (If pallid death, which opens wide the door 
 Of princely halls and hovels of the poor ;t 
 And tnis illustrious .servant of the State. 
 Whose ns were noble, whose aclucvciiicnts 
 
 gCit, 
 
 Weii' -/ut upon th" interminable sea. 
 VVho'c billows round the world roll ceaselessly. 
 Went out and outward hound, he ne'er returned. 
 Though in his lonelv home the love-hght burned : 
 \nd leaving with l;is friends a hallowed name, 
 \nd with his country, lioiior. faith, ami fame. 
 He sought and found the Islands of the Blest. 
 Where weary ones find everlasting rest ; 
 And there exults beside the jasper sea. 
 .\nd knows the bliss of immortality. 
 
 Lament, my country, for an honored son. 
 .-\nd \et rejoice o'er him whose race is run 
 And nobly ended : his is the reward 
 Of thy fiill approbation and regard. 
 l"or tliec he bore the statesman's heavy load, 
 For thee he journeyed far upon the road 
 Of truth and duty, and in honor sleeps. 
 While gratitude unending vigil keeps. 
 
 82 
 
 'ft 
 
(Hirr JRarqniB of 9aliBbuir» 
 
 He sleeps, the Empire's faithful guardian sleeps, 
 
 Where, after fifty years of arduous toil, 
 
 The burden of responsibility 
 
 Forever is laid down, and rest comes late, 
 
 But sure and welcome in the quiet grave. 
 
 We do remember him in other days. 
 
 When Dritain and the world his 'guidance had, 
 
 How faithfully and slceplessly he watched 
 
 Upon the bridge, when plunged the ship of state 
 
 Down the precipitous and treacherous waves 
 
 Which threatened rv.in — watched as slowlv 
 
 C-rpt 
 The tardy hours, — and never uttered plaint ; 
 But like the noble Briton that he was. 
 He gave himself and all he had, to do 
 The work of duty fearlessly and bold 
 And out of chaos ever brought again 
 Security and order to the State. 
 Let Britains mourn — let King and subject bow 
 In attitude of sorrow for the Dead, 
 Who being dead, yet spcaketh from the dust. 
 O England, honor him who was thy stay 
 In other days when dangers compassed thee. 
 Give him the triple honors, give him place 
 With sage and hero; and in aftcrtimes. 
 When children's children ask what means th-- 
 
 mound, 
 Say, Once there lived a Man, — and here he lies. 
 
 i 
 
 I'i 
 
 ',\ 'i 
 
 83 
 
 I 
 
 1- 
 

 
 ■I 
 
 Cimgfrllahi 
 
 The Star, whose modest ray in fulness shone 
 Upon the Western world, at last is set, 
 And on th' horizon's cloudy parapet 
 
 Streamers of glory play, as when the sun 
 
 In evening's splendor pours his beams upon 
 Some ancient dome, whose lofty minaret. 
 Bathed in th' cthcrt-al ray, is glorious yet. 
 
 Though day has died, and darkness hastens on. 
 
 On either shore of ocean sighs arc breathed, 
 And sorrow wakes, as though a cherished 
 friend, 
 In life's rough strife had fallen in the van ; 
 But. lo ! his ashes to the dust bequeathed. 
 Yet unborn millions o'er his tomb shall l)eiiil, 
 And mark where sleeps the Poet and the 
 Man ! 
 1883. 
 
OIo a ditUb Van 
 
 WHO DIED TNAWCAl l,V 
 
 () soul so sensitive! () life serene! 
 
 O brilliant talents nierfred in death's eclipse' 
 between the qinck and dead now intervene 
 
 The shadows, waiting Lie's ai>ocalvpse. 
 
 'Tis not for us. who heard his i)erfc(t lavs 
 And oft were gladdened l>^ his one cheer I'nor - 
 
 1" speak in judgment, and nn act dispraise 
 Which One shall judge, who all our frailties 
 bore. 
 
 Yet we can mourn, as now indnd we do. 
 
 The loss of one true singer fmm earth's choir 
 I'or m the music of the gifted few 
 
 The tones are silent which we do desire. 
 
 .All! silent is the cadence and the swell 
 Of sweetest notes, which meni'rv loves the 
 best: 
 
 Grant him. O Lord, the light perpetual. 
 And mercy fold him in eternal rest ! 
 
 1 1 
 
 85 
 
 I 
 
MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART 
 
 (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 21 
 
 1.0 If IS 111^ 
 I 1^ MM 
 
 A APPLIED IM/IGE Inc 
 
 ;^— ^ '653 East Mam Street 
 
 a r^JS Rochestef. New York 14609 USA 
 
 "-= (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone 
 
 ^= (716) 288 - S9S9 ~ Toic 
 
iiiaa iEditii fitri|arii8an 
 
 She is not dead, whom we today 
 
 Consigned to mother eartli ; 
 Her happy spirit sped away. 
 
 When the decree went forth, 
 That she should join the happy throng, 
 Who on Mount Zion swell the song 
 To Him whose praise attunes each tongue 
 
 In strains of noblest worth. 
 
 She lives the higher, fuller life 
 
 Where all her varied powers 
 Of soul and mind, in action rife. 
 
 Extol her God and ours : 
 l'"rom all infirmity set free. 
 In glorious inmiortality. 
 She lives in spotless jjurity 
 
 'Mid never-fading flowers. 
 
 What she on earth had hoped to be. 
 
 What she had longed to do — 
 But hampered by infirmity, 
 
 She failed the long years through — 
 That she shall do, that she shall be. 
 .Since death, the last dread enemy. 
 Is swallowed up in victory. 
 
 And all things now are new. 
 
 She lives the life triumphant now 
 
 In that celestial sphere, 
 Where God Himself from every brow 
 
 Shall wipe away the tear. 
 Until the Easter morning break. 
 When dust and ashes shall awake, 
 And soul and body shall partake 
 
 The bliss beyond compare. 
 
 86 
 
 ^ ' ; 
 
pnrau fflljirfla Cjiriria 
 
 Hi 
 
ill 
 
 \l 
 
 f ' 
 
 Ill 
 
 li ll 
 
 II: ! 
 
ffiiir *Ijamrork 
 
 I" llu- Kar.kn (,f life there arc daisies atui pansies 
 And roses and lilies, all fragrant and fair ; 
 
 And Love wanders thither, elated with fancies, 
 lo find what is brightest and loveliest there. 
 In a nook all secluded, 
 Where shadows long brooded 
 
 And scarcely the si-nbeams till eventide fall. 
 He finds there nprearing 
 
 -n , ''^'''' ^'i:i"""ock of Erin, 
 
 I he dearest .it flowerets, and brightest of all. 
 
 Oh the green little Shamrock, so timidiv growing 
 Ap.-irt from the flow'rs more resplend'ent in hue,' 
 A spdl oer the garden is silently throwing. 
 And Love panses there in the shadows and dew. 
 In that nook imfrcqiiented, 
 Ry roses unscented, 
 W here sinibeains and shadows alternatel>- fall. 
 He finds there nprearing 
 The Shamrock of Erin, 
 The dearest of flowerets, and brightest of all. 
 
 ili*' 
 
 89 
 
'I- ! 
 
 Aa (Elinga tl|r iLnt 
 
 As clings the tree to the nioinitaiii side. 
 
 When autumn winds sweep the foliage down, 
 
 So clings my heart to the one who died 
 A living death in the sad old town. 
 
 The kisses she gave and the words she spoke 
 Are never forgotten from day to day ; 
 
 And the love of all loves, which then awoke. 
 Shall live till the heavens shall pass away. 
 
 Oh, that wondrous love which then awoke 
 O'erwhelms me still in its surging tide ; 
 
 And the kisses she gave and the words she spoke 
 Bring dreams of heav'n, since my darling died ! 
 
 m ^ifou to ffliiam i9Ig WlBlfes Mom 
 
 O! thou to whom my wishes flow. 
 
 As flows the river to the sea, 
 Whate'cr I am, where'er I gc. 
 Thy love, of all things else below, 
 Is life's most precious gift to me ! 
 
 Oh ! turn again thy face to me. 
 
 And let me press that lip once more ; 
 
 I still am thine, I still can see 
 
 The evidence of love in thee. 
 And I — yes, I can still adore. 
 
 Within my arms the world I hold. 
 And heaven can give no greater joy ; 
 
 Life, with its blessings manifold. 
 
 Grows young again, though time is old. 
 And love exchanges sigh for sigh. 
 
 90 
 
 N '' :■ 
 
'^'t'"7,''f'^/^'«''"t' nothing Vcft of tluc ; 
 
 I o live I must tliv low possess 
 And then the world shall Ik' tu me' 
 ' J'aradise, and I shall he 
 
 The object of thy dear caress. 
 
 And so onr blended lives shall grow 
 
 In blissfid bonds divinclv f ree ■ 
 And I the bliss of bliss shall know 
 And every wish to thee shall flow. 
 As tlows the river to the sea ! 
 
 Ctkp a 8«am of tljp JJfigJjt 
 
 Like a dream of the night, when the lilac in bloom 
 
 bheds Its pcrfnme abroad on the air 
 iler sweet presence comes in the shadows and 
 gloom. 
 
 To turn me from sorrow and care ■ 
 And she seems to be with mc in kindness and love 
 
 Like an angel to guard mc from ill • 
 Oil, sweet is the thought, that at everv remove 
 
 Her spirit is true to me still ! 
 
 And still may that presence be ever my stav 
 
 Wherever mv fortune is cast ; 
 
 '^'\l f.™ "f ^?^ conflicts, by night and bv dav, 
 
 i ill life s final conflict is past ■ 
 ^'^?/''? ,i" ^^^ ''^'" of "i*^ 'a"'l of the blest 
 ^xr^^ , ""^'^' '" "i=" glorified throng. 
 Where the sad shall rejoice, and the wlarv shall 
 rest, 
 
 And love be the theme of each song. 
 
 ( ■ 
 
 ■ill 
 
I 
 
 If Wt diimtUi Mttt 
 
 If wc should niet't without tlcsigu, 
 
 Brought face to face some future day, 
 As formerly, when you were mine, 
 What would we say? 
 
 If I could feci your trusting hand 
 
 Clasp mine again the same old way, 
 As when we seemed to understand. 
 What would you say? 
 
 And standing thus in attitude 
 
 Of friends who long had bid adieu. 
 Restored again to friendly mood. 
 What would 1 do? 
 
 Oh ! I should clasp you to my breast, 
 And tell once more my love to you ; 
 And that is what, I do protest, 
 I'd sav and do! 
 
 r, 
 
 9» 
 
 (I ■ 
 
(Dl?. Wl\a iLifst ifOB Snnbtn 
 
 ' "l'..?'.'",' ''''" ''''^ kiiouii llic ivstiitic finoiioii 
 VVliich oiius wIk'11 our lips lo anotlnr's arc 
 pressed, 
 Would sigh for more plfasiirc. on land or on 
 ooi'aii. 
 In the north, in the south, in the cast, or the 
 west .' 
 Give me back, give me back the embraces and 
 kisses. 
 
 Which thrilled me w ith bliss but a twelvemonth 
 ago; 
 .-\nd I'll ask for no more in a world such as this is. 
 Where true love anil woman are all i would 
 know. 
 
 To my breast as I clasped her and kissed her at 
 
 parting, 
 Our souls were commingled, our hearts were 
 
 made one ; 
 And anguish, though keen, became softened ; for 
 
 darting 
 Through dark clouds came hope like a beam of 
 
 the sun. 
 And though sad be my lot. let me hope for such 
 
 kisses 
 
 As thrilled me with bliss but a twelvemonth 
 ago; 
 And I'll ask for no more in a world such as this 
 
 Where true love and woman are all I would 
 know. 
 
 93 
 
 
 H 
 
rV < 
 
 What sMiisliinf _ what sunshine she broiiL'hl to 
 
 my Hfo. 
 When cloud- were prowii dark, and the winds 
 
 were at strife: 
 Iter sweet benedictions caine down on tnc then 
 Like the breathing of angels to cheer me again.' 
 
 And day after day, as the months sped along. 
 My heart danced with jov, and niv voice waked 
 
 m song ; 
 Her goodness, her gentleness soothed jiic to rest 
 And I sank to repose liKe a child on the breast. ' 
 
 How kind was her i^rescnce whenever \vc met ■ 
 
 Twas a foretaste of heav'ti which 1 cannot for- 
 get— 
 
 Oh! her sweet benedictions came down on me 
 then, 
 
 Like the breathing of angels to cheer me again. 
 
 ulljp iSnotti i;aa (dome Again 
 
 The snow has cotnc again, and winter reigns ; 
 
 O'er forest, field, and flood. 
 The pallid whiteness covers hill an<l plains 
 
 In death's similitude. 
 
 Months twenty-four have passed since vou and I 
 
 Were driven like the snow 
 By passion's whirlwinds here and there on high, 
 
 To find a vale below. 
 
 But spring is coming, though so far away 
 The bright glad sun ai)pears, 
 
 94 
 
\ii I'hvrsnv.r hill aiwl dale shall play 
 I 111- iM'lc iii-i .Ji' the years. 
 
 C.MiraKr ,ka. luarl. ,•,.,.! |„k- th.. s,„„„l,k.rin.v 
 lU'artli "^ 
 
 Willi fuel Vaiiist tho i-oM, 
 I m.l ll.r siinus have .mlleil. and the earth 
 Shall hlds-imi as nf i)|,| 
 
 O lovt.l an.l adore.l heycKl all thinp. helow 
 <) hoped lor and lonj^^e,! f„r in weal an.l i„ w.,e • 
 At nmrinny:. and iKKJiiday, an,l eveniti^ I turn ' 
 To the place uliere niy life's star conti„Mes to 
 hum. 
 
 The clouds may co.ne forth, and the storms mav 
 
 prevail, 
 lint the tremnlous lisht of nn star shall not fail • 
 t leads me, ,t frnides me, it cheers me. uhon life' 
 Is darkest, aiul storm-winds and clouds are at 
 
 ^^"drea?"' ^°' "'"" '"■'*^'""^'^'' t''^' ''^'sc" were 
 
 ^^"^ear"°' ^"' "'"'" ""'"^'""=''- "" P^''^ '^'"^"■'l ap" 
 l^ut onward I jonrney. all doubtfulness past 
 l-or I know that the liRht shall be mine to the last. 
 
 'I 
 
 14^ 
 
 ' ii 
 
 95 
 
t' 
 ! 1 
 
 iiil^ 
 
 i'1 
 
 I 
 
 31 fin<uiir& Alniig a Drrani Vat| 
 
 I ni.iMiiil aloti;; a drrarv wa\. 
 
 Willi lur • and ilicii a iloucr : 
 And wi-ary liffV lucldiidiil dav 
 __(jrc\v darkrr hour In hour. 
 
 'rilcn till' fl'W ^tat■^. wilicil ^|K)IH' awliili' 
 l.iki' beacons ein >cinu' riK'l<\ isle. 
 I.ixik-ed coldly on a cold world's sinili- — 
 M.v only wialtli and doucr. 
 
 Unl siidiknly tlic sky !,'reu Ijrijfht, 
 
 The sliadows passed .iwas. 
 A star, upon tin- ver^e of nii^du, 
 
 -Shone lo the perfect da\ : 
 F waked as from a troubled dream. 
 .And marked the pure, nncliangins; beam, 
 Which calmly sank in life's <leep stream. 
 And blended with its s])ra\. 
 
 (Ml, still that star is seen above 
 Where other stars had shone — 
 
 The worshiped idol o' my love. 
 .And all the rest are Kone. 
 
 It guides nie with its tender lifrht 
 
 jieyond the confines of the night 
 
 To love's own empyreati height. 
 Where darkness is unknown. 
 
 |i 
 
 Parinn, Ms Eobf, an Erring <i)m 
 
 I'ardon. my love, an erring one, 
 
 Whose tronbled heart, to madness driven, 
 Xow sinks in woe, then dwells upon 
 Despair and anguish, and alone 
 
 In desolation pleads with Heav>'n. 
 
 [H 
 
lli'Mi vvhoha.t 1,1, M with Inv. .„„i|,cacv 
 
 .\ly lam ly lit, , rvhuUv IIU' not ■ 
 "II ! I>t till' \vor,U,,f ansiiri' a;,M' 
 And Kuc my lr<„il,l,,| .,„„1 r,.|,.as,. 
 I- nun all tliis vain, mrnirlinir t||„„fr|,i 
 
 l'l'''ti 1..1MM. ami thou ainiu ,,,iist ch.rr 
 Aiwl th.ni aloTU' can^t MwjtiR. mv pain 
 
 '» love! it ,|i,th tint vrt a|i|«,'at- 
 What it will hr I, hav, tlur mar 
 And ncvvr. lUi., part asaiii. 
 
 pain : 
 
 9ar Afaa.M 
 
 Whfii thi' twili^fht .low.s ar<> allniL' 
 
 .^ottly oVr tin spri'adinj; 
 Ami till- h(>ni> .,|- ,lflaml. c .,injr 
 
 Wake thiir woodlainl nidodv 
 Hopctid, and yet half forsaken'. 
 
 Thus 1 sit at cins,' of ilav, 
 U hile the tchws tli.it awaken 
 
 Sccin to tell thon'r' far aua>. 
 
 Deeper fall the sliailows o'er me 
 
 Sadder sighs the evenin.; hreeze • 
 Hopes and faneies llii before nie, 
 
 Ronsing distant mmiories; 
 While the echoe... risinfj, fallin^j — 
 
 Dirges of the dving dav — 
 Seem to he thine accents calling 
 
 Softly, sadlv. far awav. 
 
 »■ 
 
 97 
 
Waiting 
 
 I am waiting, only waiting, 
 
 Till the darker hours are gone. 
 While impatience, imabating. 
 
 Spurs the slow hours creeping on. 
 I am musing, only musing. 
 
 O'er the clays that are to be, 
 A'hI with anxious eye perusing 
 
 Life's sad pages turned by me. 
 
 I am clinging, only clinging 
 
 To the hope for other days, 
 When the muse shall wake in singing 
 
 To rehearse the nobler lays. 
 1 am sighing, only sighing. 
 
 To the night winds as they cree]> 
 ( )'er the living and the dying. 
 
 When the world is hushed in sleep. 
 
 ,■ 
 
 i'\. 
 
 I'i 
 
 To love and to be loved is more 
 Than all the other bliss in store 
 
 For us in this dark world and wide ; 
 And those caresses in the night. 
 When kisses melt and eyes grow bright 
 
 Take note of neither time nor tide. 
 
 There is a witchery in lov". 
 When all the host of heaven above 
 
 Is marshaled forth in bright array ; 
 Then Anna answers my caress, 
 And in a long deep kiss I press 
 
 The lips which coyly mocked by day. 
 
 ^i-li 
 
 98 
 
(Ram fiark Srmn tlf» Jiiatlanli 
 
 Come back from the mistland, inspire me again 
 With the brightness which follows the clouds and 
 
 the rain : 
 Let the azure and gold in effulgence return. 
 And the glory appear which should brighten the 
 
 norn. 
 
 There's a hue on the mountain dispelling the 
 
 night. 
 There's a shade in the valley absorbing the light, 
 There's a cloud which is bright 'ning in splendor, 
 
 and high 
 Is the rainbow of hope which is spaiming the sky. 
 
 Come back to me, then, in the azure and gold 
 Of the morning of life, when the blossoms unfold : 
 And the mountain shall gleam, and the valley shall 
 
 glow, 
 And the cloud shall be bright o'er the shadows 
 
 below. 
 
 i 
 
 99 
 
 t 
 
iv 
 
 hi 
 
 In the garden of life, where the beams fell in 
 brightness, 
 My Shamrock was sweetest of all that was 
 there ; 
 And my breast swelled with pride and my heart 
 danced in lightness, 
 To see Erin's Shamrock resplendent and fair ; 
 And the bright flower adorning 
 The garden, as morning 
 Expanded each leaf while the zephyrs went by, 
 And I pressed the sweet blossom 
 In love to my bosom. 
 And cared for naught else that was fair to the eye. 
 
 But a blast from the desert swept ruthlessly over 
 The flow'r of my hope and the pride of my 
 breast ; 
 And the storm-cloud rolled on in its darkness to 
 cover 
 The garden of life where my floweret I pressed ; 
 And my Shamrock — that morning 
 The garden adorning — 
 Lies prostrate in dust as the zephyrs go by ; 
 And no more to my bosom 
 I press the sweet blossom. 
 Which droops in the garden to wither and die. 
 
 I '■ 
 
BallaH 
 
 Oh that the day might be restored when first I 
 
 saw thy face ; 
 Though deep, dark shadows round us ckmg, a 
 
 brightness seemed to chase 
 The melting gloom, and as I felt the softening 
 
 flame of love 
 Burn in my soul, thou scemedst then to sanction 
 and approve. 
 
 Ah ! lovers' dreams are only dreams ; not yet the 
 
 perfect day 
 Has gilded life's sublimest heights, nor lit the 
 
 lowly way ; 
 Not yet, alas ! not yet the eye is blest with perfect 
 
 sight. 
 And what may seem the brightest star may be a 
 
 meteor's light. 
 
 'Tis well, for 'twas too bright with hope, that first 
 
 and tender dream, 
 'Twas far too pure for earthly love which hopes 
 
 to win esteem ; 
 Xow many-tinted hues float o'er life's varied 
 
 page, and then 
 I read the book of life, which tells such dreams 
 
 com'" not again. 
 
 '^J 
 
I'i 
 
 i, 
 
 w, 
 
MmtiUmam l^otmB 
 
 
 I? 
 
A man of a (1;iiitii1css spirit a Ihto of ilcallilcss 
 
 faiiu'. 
 Who ri-joiccd in the day of haltlo in the pride of 
 
 the Britisli name : 
 ^'et. dreading the tongue of slander and the vid- 
 
 gar sting of si)ite, 
 He fell in a frenzied moment, and is cold in his 
 
 grave tonight. 
 
 From lowly life uprising to a glorious height, he 
 
 stood 
 In his panoply of honor 'mid envv's crawling 
 
 brood ; 
 He liad braved the death-winged tempest on many 
 
 a well-fought field. 
 To fall at last by the weapon which onlv himself 
 
 dare wield. 
 
 'Twas madness, you say? .\y! madness, which 
 only the true man feels. 
 
 When over his glorious record a wave of oblivion 
 steals, 
 
 And drowns for a moment the mem'rv of im- 
 mortal deeds, whose fame 
 
 Resounded o'er land and ocean, linked with his 
 honored name. 
 
 O Britain, thy sons are many, but thy heroes are 
 
 the few, 
 And the valiant and the fearless have still a work 
 
 to do; 
 There are foes to be met and vanquished, there 
 
 are fights to be fought and won. 
 But tonight the grave encloses the form of thy 
 
 bravest son I 
 
 
 los 
 
 . 
 
1' 
 
 1 1 
 
 Had the .shield of a kind protection heen accorded 
 
 to thy son 
 In the day when the toiijjue of .■.lander the ear of 
 
 attention won. 
 He had shamed the crawling reptiles, that could 
 
 only hiss and bite. 
 And Scotland shoidd not he weeping o'er his 
 
 lonely grave tonight. 
 
 But thy great ones stood unheeding, or aided the 
 
 tragic play, 
 And the hand which could have succored was 
 
 waving him away. 
 In all thy boasted greatness, how cold was tin 
 
 love for him, 
 Who never had let thy glory nor thy star of hope 
 
 grow dim. 
 
 Alas for the fate of heroes who unselfishly pursue 
 The path of manly duty — with uo other aim in 
 
 view ! 
 Macdonald thus fought ever for Britain, and 
 
 truth, and right — 
 And a hero's hopes lie withered in Macdonald's 
 
 grave tonight. 
 
 t'R 
 
 to6 
 
BttuOhe 
 
 How peaceful is tlif oveiUido, 
 When all the hurry of the clay. 
 
 And pain and labor, thrust aside. 
 In softcninff visions fade away. 
 
 Then far removed from haunts of care. 
 
 Far from the busy, restless thronR. 
 Ev'n like a bird upon the air. 
 
 The mind pursues its way along. 
 
 Here castles rise on hallowed ground, 
 There mystic kingdoms come to view ; 
 
 And merry laughter rings aroim<l 
 The halls which fancy wanders through. 
 
 Forms there appear, not all unknown, 
 And answering eyes flash back the light, 
 
 Which guides our bounding footsteps on 
 Beyond the confines of the night. 
 
 Again, commingling with the past. 
 
 We feel the love of long ago, 
 Whose golden sunbeams seem to cast 
 
 A brightness over all below. 
 
 And I have wandered thus afar 
 
 O'er many scenes of fantasy. 
 And felt, beneath my guiding star, 
 
 That life was joyous, full, and free. 
 
 Oh ! ever thus at eventide 
 
 Let cares be numbered with the day ; 
 While pain and labor, thrust aside. 
 
 In softening visions fade away. 
 
 'fP 
 
 107 
 
 'V 
 
 If 
 
I 
 
 Hnatittmiatrii 
 
 'I'lic aiitiiinn tints are Iniriiisliiiij^ 
 
 The myriad forest trees ; 
 The garden flow'rs no longer fling 
 
 Their fragrance on the breeze ; 
 The pomp and splendor of the vear 
 
 Are changing to decay ; 
 For summer suns no longer cheer 
 
 The garniture of day. 
 
 Alas! we value not the hues 
 
 Which deck the \voo<lland wide ; 
 Nor heed the flow'rs. whose bloom profuse 
 
 Glows bright on every side, 
 L'ntil the changing season brings 
 
 Destruction in its breath, 
 And all of beauty's garnishings 
 
 Go down to dusty death. 
 
 And so of those who, side by side, 
 
 Toil with us day by day, 
 Whose willing hearts have been employed 
 
 To help us on our way : 
 Not till the kindly hands are gone 
 
 Do we their worth approve, 
 And own how nobly they have done 
 
 The proffered work of love. 
 
 108 
 
Qlirr €lptrclr tai tlfr Vrat 
 
 Written by request for The Church Record, the 
 official organ of the Diocese of Minnesota. 
 
 Where savage and beast in the wilderness wan- 
 dered, 
 Froi" ages primeval nnnumbercd by years, 
 Will chaos and darkness had planted their 
 standard, 
 And hope gave no ray, and affection no tears, 
 There is gentleness now, and to fierceness cessa- 
 tion. 
 And order and light o'er the regions attest 
 The day-spring of promise, the newer creation, 
 From the patience and toil of the Church in the 
 West. 
 
 And the wealth of the soil, of the mine, and the 
 forest. 
 Unknown till the light of the Gospel had come. 
 Is manifest now, where oppression was sorest. 
 And progress, anil plenty, and peace had no 
 home ; 
 And cities arise, as by magic created. 
 
 Trade, commerce, and enterprise, ever in quest 
 Of greater achievements, where patience long 
 waited, 
 .Show forth what has followed the Church in 
 the West. 
 
 Shall opulence flourish, unaiding and callous 
 
 To that which is honest, and upright, and just? 
 Shall Mammon fare sumptuous in mansion and 
 palace. 
 While Christ and His Church are prostrated in 
 dust? 
 
 109 
 
Let progress rrimnibir, ami iiitrrprlso clu-risli 
 The Source of all good to a region so blest , 
 
 It must still be abiding, it never can perish — 
 The record achieved bv the Church in the West. 
 
 9atia. (tarn* 
 
 Papa will come to his l)oy tonight, 
 
 Papa will come to his boy ; 
 For the dear voice calls, and the shadowy walls 
 
 Are telling that Dreamland is nigh. 
 Borne like an angel voice to me 
 
 In the early twilight gloom, 
 I hear from my boy the witching cry : 
 " Papa, come ! " 
 
 Musing, I think what a void would be 
 
 In my heart and home tonight 
 If my boy were gone, and I alone 
 
 Should sit in the waning light ; 
 I dare not picture wl.at life would be, 
 
 What shadows should darken home, 
 Could I hear no more the soft voice implore : 
 " Papa, come I " 
 
9amttal Cabr 
 
 What liive is like a parents for a cliil.l -- 
 A fond, frail child that moi-.i.s to coiiipriht-ml 
 Otir heart's anxiety, and wouh' forefend 
 
 The dread forel)0<HnRs of a hope despoiled ? 
 
 There is no love so pure and undefiled. 
 So holy in its essence; and its trend 
 To one divinely constituted end 
 
 Is like a cheering' stream through wood and wiliV 
 
 How desolate is hearth and home at last, 
 When love's frail ituuKent is liara'sed sore 
 With torture and disease, and would implore 
 
 Our kindly offices, while love, aRhast. 
 
 Stands helpless to relieve, and hopes aim .'e.irs 
 
 Contend for mast'rv in a rain of tears. 
 
 ^Ift Sabg of our ^om 
 
 'Tis worth the labor and the toil, 
 
 Which day b\- da\- he makes. 
 To see our little tvrant smile, 
 
 When from his sleep lie wakes. 
 A ray of sunshine is his l(K)k. 
 
 Where'er his eyes ina\ roam 
 In quest of toy or picuire hook — 
 
 The baby of our home. 
 
 The wealth of Ormus or of [nil 
 
 Were but a pauper's fee 
 To purchase him, who never sinn( d 
 
 Against sweet charity. 
 Xot kingly crown or diadem. 
 
 Since days of ancient Rome. 
 Would we accept for our bright gem - 
 
 The babv of our home. 
 
\i 
 
 I i 
 
 3ft lliglit ^ai>t Vrnt 
 
 It might have been ! Oh ! words of pain, 
 Which mem'ry muses o'er in vain. — 
 Words which regretfully recall 
 A dream of love — and that is all ! 
 'Tis past — 'tis gone, forever gone. 
 And yet the mem'ry lingers on. 
 And darkens all the after years 
 With clouds of grief and rain of tears. 
 As when the autumn's golden light 
 Is merged in winter's blast and blight. 
 What might have been ! What lasting bliss ! 
 What hopes fulfilled! What happiness! 
 Had only Heav'n the way made plain 
 In days which cannot come again. 
 But vain is now the deep regret. 
 We dreamed, we hoped, we longed, we met, 
 But oh ! too late — alas ! too late, 
 When life had wooed another fate. 
 And won the good at which it aimed. 
 With heart rejecting what it claimed. 
 It might have been ! Come, stolid life. 
 In all thy moods of hidden strife ; 
 Come, thwarted love, intense and sad, 
 While all around is bright and glad ; 
 Let earth's bereaved affections prove 
 The saddest thing is blighted love ! 
 Draw down the curtain on the scene — 
 Alas ! for life — it might have been ! 
 It might have been ! I thrill — I wake ; 
 Another day begins to break. 
 Another day of deeper gloom 
 Than that which heralded the doom — 
 In shadows dark and prospects void — 
 Of him who loved, and her who died. 
 A mist arises from the lake — 
 
A boding mist, a darkling cloud. 
 As on the beach the billows break 
 
 In fate-presaging tumult loud ; 
 And far away as eye can sec. 
 The storm-c'oud sweeping t'ward the lot 
 Obscures the waste of rolling waves. 
 Which tell of seamen's lonely graves ! 
 Upon the prospect o'er the lake 
 A dismal light begins to break 
 And shape weird letters o'er the scene. 
 In words of doom — It might have been ! 
 
 I turn to leave the cheerless sight. 
 And face the regions of the light. 
 Where high in heav'n the glorious sun 
 The zenith of his course has won. 
 The groves arc vocal — hill and dale 
 
 Are radiant in the brightening glow ; 
 And creatures, who would 'veep and wail. 
 
 See nothing kindred in their woe. 
 The .sky is clear, the world is glad, 
 And nature, in bright mantle clad. 
 Rejoices over land and sea. 
 And all things whisper — We are free. 
 
 But, hush ! a voice is heard in wonls 
 Attuned to no /Eolian chords ; 
 And all the gorgeous pomp of dav. 
 And all things joyous pass awa\- ! 
 Gloom shadows all the mystic land. 
 Deep darkness reigns on every baud. 
 As when the hurricane breaks forth 
 In sudden gloom upon the earth ; 
 And from the horrid darkness comes 
 A voice of words like funeral drums. 
 Which break in tumult on my ear. 
 And tell me what 1 wou'd not hear — 
 A talc of joyless hope and trust. 
 Which sought felicity in dust, 
 
 fl 
 
 I 
 
 I « 
 
l> 
 
 I? 
 
 Which built life's house upon the sand. 
 
 By rainbow arch of teardrops spanned. 
 
 Then in the gloom the words are heard, 
 
 In wails of woe at every word. 
 
 In wails of woe and plaints of sin — 
 
 It might have been! It might have been! 
 
 A Sfbrrtf 
 
 Four years ago today wc met. 
 
 To part as lo". crs part. 
 And feel an undefined regret 
 
 Abiding in the heart. 
 Where passion, like a ruthless breeze. 
 Which shakes the blossoms from the trees, 
 
 .'Vwakeued with a start. 
 And shook and swayed us here and there. 
 As if we had been gossamer. 
 
 Since then we've known some storm>- days, 
 And nights of deepest shade ; 
 
 And we have trod through many a maze 
 Adown the darkened glade : 
 
 We've felt at times a vague regret 
 
 (D'er what has been ; and yet — and yet 
 We would not have it fade — 
 
 The mem'ry of that dream of bliss, 
 
 Ecstatic as love's virgin kiss. 
 
 We know not what may be iu store 
 
 .\ little farther on : 
 But, oh! in days which are no more. 
 
 .'\l times a brightness shone. 
 A brightness which was so intense 
 The clouds by contrast seemed more dense 
 
 Whene'er the flash was gone, 
 
 114 
 
f 
 
 As lightnings serve to emphasize 
 
 The storm-rack sweeping o'er the skies. 
 
 And yet we know that those who weep, 
 
 And those who laugh and sing, 
 Shall side by side repose in sleep 
 
 Where peace shall fold her wing; 
 And all ambition's dreams shall come 
 To dust and ashes in the tomb ; 
 
 To but one hope we cling, 
 And think of life as but a spark 
 Which trembles upward in the dark. 
 
 ADbntt 
 
 He comes who on His natal day 
 Inglorious in a manger lay. 
 Where lowing kine were first to sec 
 God clothed in meek humanity. 
 
 He comes who trod the path of life 
 'Mid thorns and briars, storm and strife. 
 Whose thoughts were pure, whose words were 
 
 kind, 
 Whose deeds were mercies on mankind. 
 
 He comes whom Judah's rulers bought. 
 Whom Herod's soldiers set at naught, 
 Who fiercely scourged and mocked by turns, 
 Endured the plat crown of thorns. 
 
 He comes who agonizing cried, 
 
 The Innocent, the Crucified. 
 
 Who on Mount Calvary's awful height 
 
 Expired while heaven was veiled in night. 
 
 '15 
 
He comes, but now a dreadful form 
 Begirt with lightnings and with storm, 
 Before whose face, whose glance before, 
 The heavens depart and are no more. 
 
 He conies, while saints aiid angels sing, 
 Beholding their triumphant King, 
 Who comes to bring His wanderers home. 
 And even so, Lord Jcsu, come! 
 
 A Citony 
 
 By Thy sighs and laniemalion. 
 By Thy woes and desolation, 
 By Thy deep humiliation, 
 
 XpitfTE SXe'ljtfov. 
 
 By Thy sorrows unremitting. 
 By Thy lowly love, befitting 
 Thee with outcast sinners sitting, 
 
 XplffTs i\ir,(tfiv. 
 
 By Thy tried and tortured patience, 
 Which endured man's imprecations. 
 By Thy great commiserations, 
 
 Xpiffrs iXe»]tfOV. 
 
 By Thy death and resurrection. 
 Challeging the world's affection. 
 Raise, oh ! raise us from dejection, 
 
 Xpiffrs sXsTjtfov. 
 
 By Th_\- mercy, which redoundeth 
 To our profit, and aboundeth. 
 While the song of triumph sotmdoth. 
 XplrfTe' iXs'jjg'ov, 
 
 Ii6 
 
A Eitang 
 
 When the morning floods the sky, 
 When the midday sun is high, 
 When the calm of eve is nigh, 
 Hear us, Holy Jesu. 
 
 When our daily task begins, 
 And our toil its guerdon wins, 
 Yet despite cr many sins. 
 Hear us. Holy Jesu. 
 
 While we labor to acquire 
 That v'hich perisheth, inspire 
 Something nobler, something higher. 
 Hear us. Holy Jesu. 
 
 And when ends our toil, and we 
 Mingle in eternity. 
 May we find ourselves with Thee, 
 Hear us, Holy Jesu. 
 
 If ICnottt 
 
 I know she loves me best of all. 
 
 And that for me alone 
 The smiles awake, the teardrops fall. 
 
 As joys are lost or won. 
 I know she can not prove untrue. 
 
 And that, for weal or woe, 
 She shall be mine to dare and do 
 
 God's purpose here below. 
 
 O noble heart and quenchless soul. 
 
 There comes a brighter day. 
 When adverse waves no more shall roll. 
 
 N'or dav-beams fade awav ; 
 
And in that day, so bright to me. 
 
 She shall be mine alone, 
 And each to each shall dearer be 
 
 As happy days roll on! 
 
 (To a leaittiful Sntmm 
 
 WITH A VOLUME OF THE AUTHOR'S POEMS 
 
 fairest of women, the fairest 
 That ever my fancy portrayed, 
 
 Accept this slight gift, if thou carest 
 For aught that a poet hath said ; 
 
 Accept it, because that the giver 
 
 Has learnt from thine eloquent eye, 
 
 That loveliness, beauty, and favor 
 Are charms which lie can not defy. 
 
 Away with the musings of sages! 
 Away with the moralist's look! 
 
 1 will read from thy wonderful pages. 
 Thou living, adorable book! 
 
 I-et the wisdom of Grecian and Roman 
 Be heard from the lips of the wise; 
 
 But teach me that wisdom. O woman. 
 Which sparkles in eloquent eves ! 
 
 
 AUinr 
 
 Alone tonight? Oh ! not alouc. 
 
 While mem'ry true to me remains; 
 For though the busy crowd be gone, 
 
 Sn voice in solitude complains. 
 
 Tonight, though silence reigns supreme, 
 And solitary hours speed on, 
 
 I.I 
 
 ii8 
 

 Still my affection loves to dream 
 And feel that I am not alone. 
 
 Has not thy spirit hovered near. 
 And heard I not that voice of thine ? 
 
 I'ell there not nnisic on mine ear 
 In human accents half divine? 
 
 Alone? How can I be alone. 
 
 While mem'ry hoards thee as a gem, 
 \\ hich tcnderest affection won 
 
 For love's immortal diadem ! 
 
 Jrotn tforntt 
 
 Al> KONTiCM llAXDl'CIA.M 
 
 O Fount of Banducia. than crystal more clear. 
 Embellished with Howcrcts, ' and worthy of 
 wine, 
 Tomorrow a kid thou'lt receive, which shall 
 wear 
 Its fresh-sprouting horns, as it hastens to join 
 In love and in war, but in vain : for the blood 
 Of this offspring of wantons shall crimson thv 
 flood. 
 
 The dogstar can pierce not thy shade when he 
 
 burns ; 
 Thou coolest the o.xen fatigued at the plow: 
 And thou cheerest the flock as it hither returns. 
 O Fount, that shalt yet be more famous than 
 
 now; 
 For I'll sing of the oak. which throws shadows 
 
 below 
 O'er the rock, whence thy streams prattle down 
 
 in their flow. 
 
 "9 
 
Mi 
 
 LIB. in, CAR. IX 
 
 Horace: 
 
 While I was loved, nor dared to know 
 
 That some more favored youth would fling 
 His arm around thy neck of snow. 
 I lived more blest than Persia's King. 
 
 Lydia: 
 
 While thou hadst not another flame. 
 Nor Chloe thrust thy Lydia forth, 
 1, Lydia, was of greater fame 
 Than Roman Ilia, queen of earth. 
 
 Horace: 
 The Thracian Chloc rules me now. 
 
 She's skilled in music, plays upon 
 The harp — for her I'd die. I vow. 
 
 If fate but spare my darling one. 
 
 Lydia : 
 A Thurian youth inflames my breast 
 
 With mutual love, for whom I'd die — 
 Yes, twice I'd die, I do protest, 
 
 If fate would spare my darling gut. hoy 
 
 Horace: 
 What ! if our former love return. 
 
 And broken ties be joined once more ; 
 If Chloe's golden hair I scorn. 
 And Lydia find an open door — ? 
 
 Lydia : 
 Though he be fairer than a star, — 
 
 Thou light as cork, fierce as the sea. 
 When Adriatic billows war, 
 
 With thee I'd live, I'd die with thee ! 
 
CAR. XXVI 
 
 I lately lived a proper one 
 For girls, and warred with timcli renown ; 
 But now this wall which, toward the morn. 
 Guards worshiped Venus, ocean born. 
 Shall guard my weapons ; here I lay 
 My lyre discharged from warlike fray ; 
 Here, here lay down the torch apace. 
 And here the wrenching irons place. 
 Here lay the bows which shall no more 
 Menace the strong, resisting door. 
 O Cypriari Goddess — ruler, too. 
 Of Memphis, free from Thracian snow. 
 Lift high th' avenging lash with might, 
 And thou the haughty Chloe smite! 
 
 inarniritg 
 
 We live, we love, we build the pile 
 Of life's proud fane, which is to be 
 
 We look upon our work and smile 
 In dreams of sweet complacency. 
 
 But lo! th' unerring hand of truth 
 Lays all our. fabric in the dust ; 
 
 And all the golden age of youth 
 Is dedicate to moth and rust 
 
(DddWpfi 
 
firar flr! 
 
 I have kissed lu-r at thr throsholil. in the kitchen, 
 and the iillar, 
 In the dining-room and parlor, in the garret 
 and the hall ; 
 I have hngged her in all corners in an ecstasv to 
 tell her 
 How I loved her and adored her, as the dearest 
 girl of all. 
 
 And she kissed me —yes, she kissed me with the 
 sweetest of all kisses. 
 And she hugged — oh ! she hugged me in the 
 dearest sort of way ; 
 And she never went to seek me that she ever 
 nearly missed me, 
 For my heart would beat so loudlv that she'd 
 hear it rods away. 
 
 There's a good deal of palaver as to what are life's 
 best treasures. 
 And the rabble make selection as to what thev 
 think is bliss : 
 But give me my Irish \oruh as the founuin of 
 all pleasures, 
 And I'll clasp her to my bosom, and I'll lan- 
 guish in a kiss. 
 
 If all our hugs were put together. 
 And made into one long, fond squeeze. 
 
 Just twenty days of glorious weather 
 Would be the sum, dear, if you please. 
 
 125 
 
And. oh! to seal those amorous bhsses, 
 I've laid upon that pretty luouth 
 
 Four thousand and eight hundred kisses. 
 And still 1 languish in a drouth. 
 
 Vrag (Haunty 
 
 A man may stay in County Bray 
 
 To classify the stones and hills. 
 And measure snow when tempests blow, 
 
 And scold at grippe and other ills : 
 And often see the mercury 
 
 Congealed at forty odd below ; 
 But oft he'll think of one warm brink. 
 
 And sometimes thither long to go. 
 
 I've trudged about, and in and out 
 
 This desolate and bleak domain. 
 But all I've found, above the ground. 
 
 Is storm, and wind, and snow, and rain. 
 Since Noah's flood dropped stone and mud 
 
 From Proton up to Colpoy's Bay. 
 The wildcat, lynx, and skunk that stinks. 
 
 Have been indigenous in Bray. 
 
 I wonder why men wait to die 
 
 In such an uncongenial spot, 
 Where nought but stones can shield their bones 
 
 From wind and weather in their plot. 
 There's not enough of soil to stuff 
 
 Between the stones and fill the chinks : 
 To die up here seems mighty queer. 
 
 The thought produces funny kinks. 
 
 II 
 I 
 
 126 
 
Bror Mxstiftt dlolony 
 
 Dear Mistlicr Molony. 
 
 My CO.". n.:l,i ,Tony. 
 Whose poethi kcni hy tlv viiigs av tlie pust, 
 
 Yer vrlco!iic to U'.:'.,c nie 
 
 From llnaiius Uia o'ertakc inc. 
 And sing in nn em ,;v Hie Iiarocs we've lost. 
 
 Ye liev snnff of tlic .Modder. 
 
 Where the bastes widoiit fodder 
 Bore minerals an' .sogers to glory or death ; 
 
 An' ye've sung av the hathen — 
 
 The lioers — who .stood brathin' 
 Their threats at onr boys, who were hoiildin' their 
 breath. 
 
 An' ye've snug av the battles. 
 
 An' shields made av wattles, 
 (Or maybe 'twas swords that ye snng av instead I 
 
 An' my heart bate wid glor\ 
 
 While readin' the story 
 Av blood an' av thnnder. av powtlicr an' lead. 
 
 An' 1 think as I'm readin'. 
 
 How pronil I'd be leadin' 
 The parsons to glory in battle array ; 
 
 While wid prayin' an" preachin'. 
 
 An' croonin' and .schracbin', 
 We wonld dhrive all the divils an' hathen away. 
 
 So here's to ye, crony, 
 
 Mavonrneen Molony, 
 May bad luck fly from ye an' lave ye alone, 
 
 Till ye sing every minute, 
 
 Yer sowl, like a linnet. 
 Not av foights we hev lost, but av foights we hcv 
 won. 
 
 "7 
 
An' whin we arc shlapin' 
 
 In marble's covvltl kapin', 
 Or maybe in dhirt where the thistles bloom fine. 
 
 Sure the people will say thin : 
 
 " The dhread av the hathen 
 Are shlapin' below — since they swung in the 
 line." 
 
 Sto €l;arlfB 
 
 You are twelve months old today. 
 
 And we bid the moments stay 
 Till we celebrate the wonderful event 
 
 With an extra dish of pap, 
 
 And a few new toys to rap. 
 And some gaudy clothes, which haven't got a 
 rent. 
 
 You are twelve months old, my boy. 
 And you've given me some joy. 
 
 And a little bit of troul'o. maybe, too; 
 But to me 'tis all the same. 
 Sleeping, waking, wild, or tainc 
 
 There is not another boy, I think, like you. 
 
 You're the idol of my life. 
 
 And the girl I call my wife 
 Is as much enamored of you as myself : 
 
 Yet some people, whom I know. 
 
 Think you're quite a perfect show. 
 Good alone at breaking crockery and delf. 
 
 But we think you wondrous wise. 
 When an alley twice the size 
 Of your mouth is somehow almost swallowed 
 down ; 
 
 And the doctor we must call 
 
 128 
 
To extract the fjlassy ball, 
 And we uondor why he growls and dares tn 
 frown. 
 
 And wlun llic stones and chips 
 
 ( ict w ithin yonr rosy lips. 
 And ) on swallow them, and then hegin to kink. 
 
 \\h\, we pace the floor all night, 
 
 Witii ,1 feeling of delight 
 That we'll sonietinie in the fntnre get a wink 
 
 I'.iit when the morning hreaks, 
 
 .And the matin hird awakes, 
 .\nd yon waken with the hird and sweetlv sunle. 
 
 Then we ask — of course we flo — • 
 
 If another hoy like yon 
 (an be fomu! in all the place for main a mile. 
 
 So I chant for yon my la\', 
 
 i-'or you're twelve months old toda\', 
 
 .\nd I trust you will not take it quite amiss. 
 If i publicly declare 
 What a wondrous hoy you are. 
 
 And affix my own sign manual to this. 
 
 139 
 
fill 
 
 !' 
 
 Come to me, my English Pur, 
 With vour saiicv Irish nuig. 
 Tell nic what your head is thinking, 
 As you sit there sagely winking : 
 For \ou seem to be so wise. 
 Trviiig to look twice your size. 
 That Til like to know if winking 
 Is an evidence of thinking. 
 
 "What I'm thinking of," asks I'ug, 
 •• I of the Hibernian nnig? 
 I am thinkhig of my dinner. 
 Just like any other sinner ; 
 For I have a hunger pain 
 In mv stomach back again ; 
 I'ligs' and men are like each other 
 Just as brother is like brother. 
 
 ■■ Feed me well, and you will find 
 That I'm of a (|uiet mind, 
 \oid of malice or contention. 
 C.entle as a church convention ; 
 I5ut if 1 am not well fed, 
 lust like man, I'll wake the dead 
 With mv howls af,v.inst the sinner 
 Who would cheat me of my dinner.' 
 
 So I stroked my saucy Pug, 
 .\s he sat there' grave and smug. 
 With his tail curved up so neatly, 
 .\nd his smile difiuscd so sweetly ; 
 And I thought that his replies 
 Were both orthodox and wise, 
 Quite enough to prove that winking 
 Is an evidence of thinking. 
 
 130 
 
(§tii. Nnralf Abie 
 
 Och, Norah avic, 
 
 An' hev ye been sick, 
 Or hev ye been stharved wid the cowUl ? 
 
 I hev waited for days, 
 
 An' now, if ye plase, 
 To ax for a letther I'm bould. 
 
 It need not be long 
 
 As a clargyman's tongue, 
 For swatcness is judged not by len'th ; 
 
 For a wee note, och hone. 
 
 To a heart that is lone. 
 Would give sure a wake bit av stren'th. 
 
 So, mavournin, awake. 
 
 An' yer dhramin' forsake. 
 An' say ye are livin' or dead ; 
 
 An' it's joyful I'll be, 
 
 Och, Xorah machree, 
 To hear what has niver been said. 
 
 'Tis a long time ago. 
 
 As the almanacs show. 
 Since I sint ye a letther in haste ; 
 
 But niver a word 
 
 Of reply have I heard 
 By stameboat, or stamecars, or baste. 
 
 An' it's lonesome I've got 
 Wid a skullful av thought, 
 
 But niver a poipeful av news ; 
 
 An' it's hard on my health 
 (Not to spake av my wealth) 
 
 To be dopin' all day for the blues. 
 
 «3' 
 
II 
 
 Och, Xorah aroon, 
 
 It's ycrsclf that could tune 
 
 My heart into song wid yer charms, 
 If I only could go 
 To the place tliat I know, 
 
 An' hould ye again in my arms. 
 
 But if I can't go 
 
 To the place that 1 kiinw. 
 The place where my heart is tonight. 
 
 Ye can write me sonic day 
 
 A letther to say, 
 That my bouldncss is proper and right. 
 
 An' whin ye hev tuck 
 
 Up the pen, och, good luck 
 
 To the hand that is writin' to me ! 
 
 That same hand I would s(iuaze 
 Were I there, if ye plase, 
 
 An' pull ye once more on my knee. 
 
 13a 
 
S'm f&tfort a C^ttrr 
 
 I'm short a letter — what that means 
 Is subject not for words, hut fcehng ; 
 
 I'"or ail day long I pass through scenes 
 \Vl"-re not one sunheani's glint is stealing. 
 
 There's no one but the lover knows 
 How much to MuUx-k* he's a debtor, 
 
 L'ntil he finds, at some day's close, 
 He's short a letter. 
 
 "ris not that we e.xpect a check, 
 (Jr princely gift, or special ticket, 
 
 \\ hen we so .stretch and crane our neck 
 When waiting at the P. ( ). wicket : 
 
 It is that we expect from Her 
 
 Something we prize than all things better. 
 
 And fee! most sad. when we most fear 
 We're short a letter. 
 
 But wisdom says: " Possess your soul 
 In patience — it may come tomornuv. " 
 
 Ay ! so may death, meanwhile the goal 
 Must now be won through joy or soi"ro\\ : 
 
 And nothing can supply the want. 
 When our Beloved is the debtor. 
 
 And fails to write us, and we can't 
 Receive our letter. 
 
 It seems as if we must away, 
 
 And know the cause of her condition ; 
 For sure she must be ill, and may 
 
 Be needing much her own physician. 
 Oh ! foolish boy, she'll write in time. 
 
 And niake you feel so much the better. 
 That you'll confess, in words sublime, 
 You've got your letter. 
 
 *.SiT William Mulock. Fostmaster-GeDeral of Canada. 
 

 210 lift Slat taxtif 9abanta 
 
 The earth is flat — that's flat ! 
 
 The foolish Galileo said it iiiovcd, 
 .Vnd Newton said a great deal more than that, 
 
 And tried to prove it, and some think he proved 
 That it is round and turns upon its axis 
 As surely as we have to i)ay our taxes. 
 I5ut those old fogies live<l so long ago, 
 
 Ere telegrams were sent through wireless air, 
 That \vc are not such fools as to forego 
 
 Our private speculations everywhere. 
 The earth is flat as pancake on the griddle. 
 
 We say it, and we mean — laugh who may ; 
 And that which may to others seem a riddle. 
 
 Is plain to us and just as clear as day. 
 Each day the sun and moon and stars sweep 
 roiuid — 
 
 Alxjut three hundred million miles will do it ; 
 But that is not a mystery profound, 
 
 Because — because — because they're practiced 
 to it. 
 But someone asks; What is beneath the earth? 
 
 Why, more earth piled on more, and still on 
 more. 
 That's answered easily — 'tis hardly worth 
 
 The while to answer those who don't explore 
 And search out for themselves the simplest things, 
 As easily delined as Saturn's rings. 
 Old Anson thought he circumnavigated 
 
 The earth (and people spoke great things of 
 him) ; 
 He merely sailed, as, in dish corrugated 
 
 A paltry chip floats round within the rim. 
 He could not sail beyond the rim of ice. 
 
 Which keeps us as in Babylonian walls; 
 Had he once reached the outer precipice, 
 
 '34 
 
He and his crew should have sustained sonic 
 falls 
 Down the precipitous and japgcd rocks 
 Ontside the rim of earth, where Chaos inocUs 
 The pnny progen\- of earth : and then. 
 
 Just like the rehel angels thrust from Iieaveu. 
 Who fell nine days, so Anson and his men, 
 
 Unwept, ur'ionoi -d, and, alas! unshriven. 
 Would, t(x). have fallen, with an awful yell. 
 'Way down to Xowlicre in the Unknowahle! 
 And tins demonstrates that the earth is flat, 
 
 ' )r. rather, like a salad dish enormous ; 
 Some laugh at this, hut we don't care for that, 
 
 .\o, not when, armed with school-books, block- 
 heads storm us. 
 \Vc go on, like the sun upon its way. 
 Which speeds three hundred million miles a da\ , 
 Or near six thousand miles in cverv minute — 
 Who wages war with us : hall find but little in it. 
 
 >35 
 
I: 
 
 f 11. , 
 
 VHftn iaiiiit; (Hakro tift #tra)i 
 
 When Uaildy takes llic strap, you'd ilimk 
 
 The lioiisi' had roiu asleep. 
 Atid not a one of us ilarc wink. 
 
 As here and there we peep ; 
 ICaclt hreatli is hehl. e.ich heart heats last, 
 
 li^ach vows no more to serap: 
 And all the fun of life seems past 
 
 When Daddy tako ilie strap. 
 
 Oh, when he takes the strap, and vows 
 
 He'll show what he ean do ; 
 And then hegins to paee the liou-e 
 
 And range it ihrotigh and thronnh : 
 Then I'rances kicks at Jack no more 
 
 And Jack grahs no one's cap ; 
 While .Mamma laughs Ijehind tin door 
 
 Whe'- Daddy takes the strap. 
 
 And lii. .. when D.'idily brings it tlnwii 
 
 With all his might and main, 
 Von'd really think his awfnl frown 
 
 Was causing him a pain. 
 He thinks we're frightened when we bawl. 
 
 Hut we don't care a rap : 
 We just pretend, and that is all. 
 
 When Daddy takes the strap. 
 
 J Vi 
 
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