IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /!/ 4f 1.0 I.I 1.25 2.8 1^ _ !f lilM '" |3.6 111^ |||M 1.8 1-4 IIIIII.6 V] & /a o a ■c^ ^^ '/ s Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 # ^s;^^ O %^ 6^ >> % -^^ '^'b^ £: Is the fomi)o.sitioii of the Poems constituting this small volume, coniiiining (luite a number of small original pieces, the writer has endeavoured studiously to govern his thoughts and pen ]iy the three leading principles of purity of sentiment, originality, and concise- ness. In the lirst, that no mind, however delicate or susceptible of impression, shall not be in the smallest degree impaired by ex- pressions or suggestions carelessly dropjicd, thai shall have a ten- dency to divert it from the channel of social or moral rectitude, an error that may ho thoughtlessly committed on the part of even the niof ^ judicious writer, without constant and untiring vigilance ; and as the good of his fellow-man in general, and of the juve- nile portion of mankind in particular, is ever held in view by the writer, and by whom, he presumes, his lines will be perused in some degree, he flatters himself that an opposite tendency will be effected; and if he coidd persuade himself in the belief that the attention and reflections, should, by the readhig of his unpretending lines, be directed to Nature, as an inexhaustible source of medita- tion, thence, as a reasonable conclusion, to the great, the glorious and most adorable Author ; then, for the labor and care bestowed on the preparation of his work, he could have a most enduring compensation. With respect to originality, he has (after careluUy accrediting the few direct quotations made use of, or verbatim phrases which he believes to be due to any other pen), endeavored to avoid the tire* some similarity too often to be endured in reading very much of the poetical matter in circulation, especially when the same or similar subjects are frequently written on ; yet, lie does not arrogate to himself the credit of unswerving originality of action, wishing to pay all due respect to the style of ages ; perhaps in some few in- stances at most, trauseribi phrases used in common by almost every writer of the language, and acknowledging his inability to originate a phraseology or expression of language entirely his own; V PREFACE. wishing- to ackiiowleuge :i,ll literary diserepaia-v and Iniperlectiun which may be found on undergoing a severe criticism, to which even the smallest and most humble production is lilvcly to be sub- jectetl : being aware that in this age of letters, the maintenance of iiny great amoimt of independence of tliought und language, Avith perspicuity little at fault, either in plain or poetical language, is a task not easily executed, especially bv the comparatively unprac- tised. But in such event, he trusts that whatever credit may be due in that respect, Avill be awarded in the same degree that the writer has endeavoured honestly to merit. Conciseness, or the third feature professed to be aimed at, is, in his opinion, blameless, with respect to space at least, — all his pieces being short, and the catalogue of subjects large for so small a vo. lume. In an era like the present, when light und easy reading is ^o much esteemed, poems of great length on grave subjects are not likely to receive from general or casual readers the amount of careful attention which, perhaps, they deserve ; and pass unappre- ciated, if not unnoticed. Every writer intends that his books and articles shall be read ; and his labor in thought and writing is a success or a failure in the ratio as they are read or slighted. In the expression of ideas, he has used as few words as possible ; but whether comprehensiveness or I'cdundancy is the most distinctive quality, he is willing to submit to those who are more competent to ju<. That, dirge like, hums among the trees ; To soothe away the slumb'rino- nioht. From setting- sun till dawninii' litiht. The meanest ])rute instinct hath taught, With care to seek some resting spot ; And Nature's sons, both high and low, Full well the bc:n of night do know. KVENlNCi THOUGHTS. So citliei- at tiieir lengtli reclined, ()]• curled aroiiiul as serpent kind, Or deep in 1)\utows mined ^^•itll care, Or poised on })ranclies high in air. Whilst all theii' \ ai'ied habits keep, In this they lord of all ])eloNv," By reason taught his good to know, Straight to his friendly couch repairs ; Forgets in sleei) his daily cares ; iV respite is his pillow true From toils, ainl thus his powers renew. The lisiht so dear to man hv day, To guide his h'et — insure his way. Has hv ;i wise ]»i-()\ ision fled. From eyes to outer \ision dead. And whilst refreshing shunhers weigh Ui)on his hrow, strange phantom's i)lay Around his half-unconscious mind, fu drcaiiiv shadows ill drline! j! ■>■! •'•■l.i;Tii /n; •!; '■••.i>!i iioi!) I'-jiii !!•)■;/ JsiJi ^ ,;.-'>77' '-;'; ']•■■ '■')hi>>'. 'Mi- 'ic -i^r.h \"^v,i\-'ii'^^ 'hIt lifH ; p.^ ^ '•>',. j- (, .'•:'"'";■: -^^ •'•- 'O !- '■;// ' Kf'' i '/;i">' [ ii.ti;H THE VOICE OF DESPiiH:' ■' ;•' '^ From Africa's sons, lo ! a voice of despair ; , - 1 ,.,i .tn angel still higher ;''' '^ But deaf aix? the powers of the oartli to the call '' ■ l''rom the soul of the sImvc, whioli rt-|>]^en]s to them i\\\,'" n 14 EVENING THOUGTrTS. May they ribj in their might, and oppression lay low — Break the fetters of thought and of linih at a blow. O ! Britain, renienil)ei' thy struggle to fr(>e Thy soil of the curse in the isles of the sea ; Most noble the act — 'tis a star in thy crown, And angels re^joico as to earth tlu^y look down ; But why ditlst tlio\i stop till the last sable sla\'e His freedom had gained by the sword of the l)ra^'e ? The star in thy croA\n would moi'e l)rightly have shone, As it traversed the earth with the light ol the sun ; But well hast thou done — to thy praise be it told ; Thou hast ransomed thy own with thv millions of gold. But the star-spangled flag of the States of the West Hath boastfully waved over its millions oppressed : An insult to the slave, on the Fourth of July, Are the shouts of theyr^fl as they ring to the sky. But the banner of stars is at last rent in twain, And drenched is the soil with the lilood of the slain ; The negro in silence the struggle siuveys ; That the North may prevail he most fervently prays. He knows that himself is the cause of the strife, And to speak in his cause is to forfeit his life ; But his faith is beyond the mad tyrant's control, Though the body he kill, he cannot the so\d. O ! ye South, 1)(^ aware that the day draweth near. When your land shall in ashes and sacki'loth appear ; No crime is too bad for your hands to commit — Your deeds are as dai'k as the bottondess yvi. The blood of the shive from your soil wdl accuse. With a cry for rev{nig(>, and can justice refuse ? The day will appear when the Judge in his luight Will injustice awai'd to +l'r' menial his i-ight. EVENING THOUGHTS. 15 V- )H0, old. Then the udaintiiit lieart of the tyrant, in turn Will receive as lie gare, if repentance he spurn. The weaiy and worn, with his kindred estranged, He'll behold at a glance all before him arrange I. Bold tyrant, the cup that with pleasui-e you sip, Will with vengeance be filled and returned to your lip ; And the thrice bittei di-aught you will drink in the sight Of the throng whom you scourged in the day of your might. Oh ! Slavery, liend of all tiends, thou hast cursed The lowly and meek of the earth from the tirst ; Thy theme is the woe of the heart-stricken throng^ — The piteous lament of despair is thy song. The fairest of climes thou hast vexed with thy breath, The soft tropic gales thou hast tainted with death ; Where the nectarous cane and the orange tree grow, And the bright summer skies perennial glow. But, as Eden of her groves of anibi'osial was shorn. And her pleasui'es supreme, and her bowers left to mourn ; So the groves of full many a bright land in this day Thou hast sacked, oh I thou tiend, and the spoils borne away. Thy victims by millions are numbered all through. On the recoi'ds of shame, both ancient and new ; Dai'kness and death, cupidity and wrong, Covetousness and crime, to thy histoiy belong. Let the stars thee accuse as they peer from the sky ; Let the mountains condemn fi-om their summits on high ; Let the hills and the woods with upbraiding be heard. And the just of all lands thee condemn at a word ; 1 m l^l&^i:SG TH0UaHT,B4 Lut pu^itv.,v9,^tn»guU, w«t tjie >5hiWiifT And freqdpji^,ji\ye,^tiroedpWj;l>e ushered to bii-th,; i. ,jl ; i(i! "MTuY i.il '>r'iif)'r, 1)1. i- IriJilV ')(! '^tjr! i.;-;'4n''V (|'v.7 itj // )ir;yir; -jiD 111 :lj'Jii> lii.'/ u-i ,■ jii';jij.,-i;) i-.rliiJ !:'ir,i:i:: oiii ;.>ii/. •mo'i U." /':l Jil' 1)1 I >*r::fh '.»•>- liov- i.iii.'il.v ..uUr.iiiT tijij t< > ; )..,ii xmi;.,uouJSTii;KPART.i.iu: vim,! ..it ,'..>(i(.)iii i (f'«>''.)f.t)< i-ji'MJ >i!j 11.) .)o ■•' mIj :-.i r.'j/j;.)!?! {(M. Bichmond ]iath,|SUiT9u4^redrr-,tliei .sjiive i>^ jiet IVee j . :;i!'!; '^V'i^fr?'*^^^'^'^'!^^^}'?; WP^y ^hejlv/q^id ,s^^,ii. • , .ia-,xi.;l '.)ilT . ,!|,.;(^et|:1fh^ hqvivkl of.,\:ipt9vy be,!heaidvv(;f ,:rtoK :nVy Frou>,,q9eH^,|to oq^a^^, i;\'psH|,,'Kexji»^ to Miii.i%!r :!; -»f .!/,' Kebellion iS/Q:^-W5^ied,,thi'C|ugli()^it tl^e domaifi,,;,! -.jj J,,,:/. The manacles are broken at a word. .|lf. .:!>■-(;'' ! r:; .„,.„,,j .ji^jd ,iylijei;e.veV|:hiH ]iiHme shall b^e knowii.;j jj„,i'r The good and the great will emblazon the deed,,,., And ii^^ifii^^ .sncL'cpeAipg, ,tlw ^l^vi^sp, .vyhoni , l^e ft'ep4>. / ■ " ' " . ,:^iH,4iont,^xer Iw^.pmji^^ «,iid.ajipn.,,., . „i 1 .ii( ) On the " St^aii'isP'^ngiiaql: |Ba,?iaier" Ae With the motto of " Freedom" and a halo be graced, ./-l. .^fid,w^Tpw|de4,with JiV]ir^ls,.Q^gold.; , ,;, i.j %:.^^! YM^^ l?y. ,the Jj^p^th, pf; thapksgivipLg to ^^nclift'cv ,. i ^'^Viftp g^]ayp,9^,l^w;^p Ifiiv;o^^,],et it evqv flq>^,i .„(, j.j . l,i,,4nd,th^,t^,^;ev9V,iQea^^,tOi]3eit9l4„, ...[t Imi/. EVENING THOUGHTS. 17 11^ THE LEAF IN THE HALL. An Autumn leaf all crisp and dead, That from a ti-( o liad lately fled, Was wafted through my open door, And fell upon the entrance floor ; No mai'vel that it fled apace For some oblivious lurking plact; ; , And there in coy I'epose to lie, And hear the passing breezes sigh, And there to die. Discarded thing, that dead brown leaf, Its beauty gone, it lies in grief ; But, lo ! the same Almighty hand That made the earth, with sea and land, In thau same leaf more wondei* placed Than meditative man hath traced, With knowledge graced. 'Twas but an humble thing to see, A faded leaf from yonder tree, Though once it glowed in emerald green, And witli its fellow-leaves was seen High on its branch, kissed by the I'ays Of noon-day sun in summer days, Or trembling in the breath of night, Shinnnering forth the dim star-light. With all the leaves on all the trees, A canopy to lull and please, In shady ease. s9 i \f iw> 18 EVENING THOUGHTS. Scarce worth the time to brush ayide That auburn leaf all crisj) and dried ; But 'ere the intruding thing you cayt Beyond the door-step to the beast, Inspect the symmetry and design, In form disphiyed and tissue fine, Its serried outline laid with care, Not but perfection centres there, Though half its beauty fled before It found an entrance at my door. Quite self-reliant in its grief. It says to man in wisdom chief, Display your skill and make a leaf, Just such a leaf. Artistic skill may make a tree, With leaf and branch all fine to see, And place it near the open door, Above the leaf that's on the floor ; And brainless judges stop and gaze. Admire the picture — grant their prais(^ To imitative aii;, and not Bestow a look or risk a thought Upon the tree that stands near by, That sent the faded leaf to lie Upon the floor — a lowly bed, A victim to their passing tread ; But ai*t composed the work you scan, And Heaven made the tree, O ! man ; And can you make a leal tree. Like that which bore the leaf you see, Just such a tree. EVENING THOUGHTS. DOST THOU REMEMBER? Dost thou remember school-boy days, > My old class-mate and friend ; The school house, teacher, games and plays, That long have had an end ? Yes ; in the locket of my brain, ' They're safely hid away ; And three score years do not disdain A youthful colloquy. I clearly recollect them all, And where the school-house stood ; A square old house, with windows small, Though then accounted good. The desks ran round against the wall, The scholars sat back-to ; All crammed and crowded, big and small, The " master " peering through. The planken seats, in fashion then, Creaked and squeaked you know, '' Till down came seat, with boys and men— A tumultuous overthrow. In jack-knife carvings, doltish clowns Their skill exemplified. All gratis, save the thwacks and frowns In compensation plied. The grave old master's throne of state, I now almost can see, 8tood in the centre, near the grate^ — ' ' A sage old man was he. ' ' 19 w. 0: m 111 I 20 EVTilNTNG THOTJGHTft. And there lie ruled, and there decreed, And many a bh'chen .stick Was splintered, a« he saw the need, For truancy or trick. 'Twas there in turn to read we W(;nt, The biggest first must go ; With slates to see what " cyphering " meant, With copy-books to show. Tlie toughness of the ear was tried ; He might as well have said, They're better off, and laid aside, Than dangling at your head. I do not say he never (quaffed A dram to make him quick ; Then, mind you, if you jilayed or laughed, He kept a dusting stick. Some with " Please, sir, make a pen," For none could wiiters be Without the aid of goose quills then, Plucked from the wing you see. In single file to spell we stood. From Dilworth's colunnis long ; The ferrule law then thought so good, Decided right or wrong. Geographies and grammars too, Were only known in name ; Whoever dared to look them through, A prodigy became. lii II KVENINO I iTHOUCHTKl ^ .Tilifu giLuilxit* an(^ iiu4j,*^. laiid tliiiigB that i uuikgi tl' This jiffc so iinich aMceli, ft --II ! I • If.vT. iii.lT Wewljswpit 80iiieivilit^i The cheery uew&v.tfiiu^'Jgo/l^i I i il'.-mu <>\V// Uproar rauihigli lawi loiitl .wei iloouucwd^i-rr. /(*>«ui ikaowl //■ m i k >k .«{!.)i J Tlie maf5teirMUo**t4'n^i')"lQiidfc)iV"}5!()yi»^r/ >iri:);(l.j I Stick raised, and threoteiofljig llk^ivdv'tajlv^ I. V^as jiist)Oiiie!inoi'el)ti©.m5«jke/lAi«loiwo yKi-dl hdY Behind the tearing ;Ciiowd;i / Mh tli J)0yft;i^Vl$fc;4bO(>jVH If/. To age and good uetpMto lul n •; , 1 .i i /. Good manners then, ,wt)tae!b4'eje|(iingaV>^v■, Thu«)%^9jtj)ndvdisg)gy^fl^. /,i l)uii')>li)5b •lO m 22 EVENING THOUGHTS. TJie stauiicli okl scliool-liouHc, s(iiiaro and H([\mi, Tliat cradled u.s one day ; Where good boys studied, bad boys tbuglit, Hatli fallen to decay. Our teacher, lienor to his name, Who much instruction gave, Deserves more gi-atitude than blame, Lies, somewhere, in his grave. .[ thank you friend and okl class-mate ; I witness all you say ; You bring me back to youth's estate, And roll the years away. ill ON THE SHORE. As I stood on the floor Of the pebbly shore, The ripples were kissing the strand ; The foam and the s})ray In their antics did jjlay, And bubbles came rocking to land. Afar on the tide The wavelets did ride, All sparkling and gleaming with light, And varying in hue From silver to blue, Or darkened by shade from the sight. KVENING THOUGHTS. And departing tlie sido Of the briny Hea-tide, And IcaAing its beauties lieliind. A monitor still, With a heokoninf^ thrill, My reHoetini; spirit entwined. Here's a j>icture well drawn Of the jonrney yon are on, Of life in the snn and the shade ; To be loved or revered, Respected or feared, Are as fickle as the waves yon snrveyed, B'rom the casket of clay Von are pjissing away, As the tide thu-t went Imrrying j^ast ; Or as Inibbles a wide. On the far drifting tide, Tn the breakers of death yon'll be oast. 23 I I ,f y > ■! .;«;■' TO UPLAND AIRY HEIGHT. To ni)land airy height, Whei'(^ dazzling glacier bright, iJedims the keenest sight, Midst dancing beams and nionntain sti'eanis, To watch the condor's fliuht. "%'" ■ it m KVBMK(y i 'rU(Mt(^HTSi. ii . Beneath the t'empewt iol<]>ud ' :i/. Doth nethei^ peakb oiiBhroii'd ;' ' Roai's' lOut ill thiindei-s loud, ■ f i > 1 1 / As war-ships pour tlieii- deafening Mar, And gatJievihg Vrt])oi"R n-owol; H The liglitning shafts succeed, In quiokBuccessionlVeed,- ■'!•.! .. As oni'i* fiery steed fi-.j c,; m » Through, cikasins dedpy o'er sunvmits 'a.tiee^>, Save thoiight unmatehed insp^od. :,, ..T^(?i,b9]lt is gfpent l^ejow,, ,..;.,,; , And eclioos come and go, And nionnitjiin Winds dd bloAvi;! Tlie pine- tops there in high: mid-air, Lurch.', iwiklly; to; and fro. ; i > ■ i , 1 1 ,, / .1 ,•- -H) )•[ Tlu) eagle soars on high •II n' ) Amid the azure f^ky ; And with her piercing eye, Scans all the plain from mount to main, And nestling eaglets cry. Now mountain storms sul)side, And down the craggy side, Behold the plain's nwide ; How wild and grand, on every hand, ' A rnountaiirvle'w Vh'eA tvied'. * ' The gaping chasm noar^ . ' i ■ ■ T (^vite iills the blood Nvitii fejiiv ' As down the })eed onward witli thy M'ooing song. And companion of tliy clioiec. ^^ EVENING THOUGHTS. On wing with graceful swoop 8ur\ey The old fjiriu lot once more ; Thy kindred tribes bemoan thy stay, They welcome thee once moie. 27 THE BROAD DEEP RIVER. Near by the home that gave me birt'\, A broad, deep River rushes foi-tli. That has for ages rolled its tide Unceasiiif;- on to ocean's side. No stream of earth, however fair, Can with this noble stream com})are, At least to me ; for by its side In days of youth I loved to glide Its banks and brim, with hill and tield, A world contained, a world revealed, Before my mind aspired to know What other streams through valleys iiow ; If other brays and meadows green In lands remote vvei'e ever seen. Its tallest steeps that far unveiled, Its winding course through marsh and tield, 1 climl)ed and would the danger brave. To trac(3 the sunbeams o'er the wave ; With cautious step beside to trace The shy king-fisher's hiding place. Full truant like, in sportive glee ; From care exempt, from trouble free, a I 28 HVENING THOUGHTS. Tlie luoinents t.|\iickly passed away. Whilst at tlie river bank at ])lay ; The miri'ored surface clearly drew The sky above the trees tliat grew Upon the l)anks ; and pleased was 1, When looking down could see the sky. No age with visions more replete Than when the urchin's wayward feet Are equal only to convey Him to some river's bank to play ; 'Tis then, no doubt, the plastic mind Impressions take which age may find Most plainly marked when brought to sight And if by culture guided right, Will prove a them'; life's journey through. For meditations e\ er ne^\'. But many years have by me sped. Since at the river side I played — Since when I knew no earthly care, And I'ambled by the river fair : But now, in manhood's riper stage. With all the cares of middle age. The good old stream hath charms in btore Whilst coursing on to ocean's shore, That oft invite me to its side To view its eddies and its tide. The banks retain their verdant hue. When sunnuer clothes the earth anev ; Then all appear to weai' the prime And freshness of their youthful tini(.'. Tlie gay king-tisner hovers there, With all a parent's tender care : The sparkling sunbeams crest the tide ; t» EVENING THOUGHTS. 29 The HiiaclowH, too, at eventide, Like visions of the past remain, And manhood seems as cliild again. But, ah ! the wheels of conquering time. Have borne away my youth's fair prime ; And all the chanting breezes sigh That youth so quickly passes by. The summer into autumn fades ; This shrouds the earth in dreary shades ; And autumn leaves as heralds go, That all the drooping earth may know That winter comes to close the year ; And Time, the victor, conquers here ; No litter emblem can there be. It speaks to none more clear than me. That down the stream of time we glide, As livers seek the ocean's side/ But Spring revives the lields anew \ She comes \vith showers and gentle dew ; And with a sunbeam for her guide. And flowery wings expanded wide ; Enrobed in all that's fair and gay, To earth she misses not her way. Thus back to youth returns the year, As onward speeds this mighty sphere, Sustained by that Almighty will, Whose presence immensity doth till. The changing seasons re-apjjear At His command from year to year ; And every planet in its place. Revolves in turn through empty space. But backward up the stream of time. To hopeful youth can mortals climb i w '11 M^ 30 EVENING THOUGHTS. All ! no; and each returning Spring Doth retrospective lessons bring Of fhiys forever passt <] away Whilst at the vWev biu.k at play. As ocean drinks the roll'ng stream, And boundless space en^ uli)hs the l)eaiii So doth eternity appear, To swallow up the dying year. A.nd rolls the timely stream along, Full freighted with a living throng Of motley millions, young and old, Myself among the crowd am told. Discharged at last, sure all nmst be, Into that great eternal sea ; Just as the stream I named before Rolls on to seek the ocean's shore. m DOWN IN THE DELL. Whilst dowii in the dell. As the evening shades fell, I was charmed with a spell ; The clear pool that was there. With its mirror so rare, Was exquisitely fair — It was worthy the rambler's retreat. The autumn leaves brown. Came leisurely down From the once leafy crown. In the watei's to drown, Or the ruyh and the sedgegrass to greet. EVENING THOUGHTS. Tlie departing rays strove With the ancient oak gvove, Where a monarch miglit rove ; From tlie dell there was heard l^he plaint thrill of the bird, That sIk! freely confen-ed On thv (istening ear in the dell. The sky i-aven in air :Vk he passed gave a stare, And the squirrel, with care, Had withdrawn to his la-h- — Each affirmed his peculiar farewell. 1 was left to survey The still close of the day In the dell far away ; All was still, save, perchance, As a thing of romance, The strange owl broke the trance. With a hoot that portended the night ; When, reflection, confined To the dell of the mind, And its labyrinths blind, Did survey the recluse with delight. 01 t ■ /. JOSHUA AT JERICHO. Benumbed with fear, within their walls. Lay Jericho's blaspheming host ; Terrific dread each heart enthralls ; Dumb idols were their futile boast, ■ ' EVENING THOUGHTS. Doomed by Israel's sword to fall ; The Almighty hat sealed their fate ; The hero-priest, the great and small, The jjurpled court in princely state. The marshalled throng of God appeared, And round and round each day they moved ; Their trust was in the God they feared. Their Joshua whom they loved. The tribes uioved on in silent tread ; • The priests the sacred symbol bore ; The war-worn veterans marched ahead Still, save the seven trumpets' roar. Six days in sacred programme spent. The seventh came with horror tilled ; When, lo ! a shout to heaven went ; The wall-girt heaits within were chilled. Loud and more loud the blasts ascend, Around and o'er the embattled walls ; By miracle the foundations rend, The heaven-opposing structure falls. The mocking king, with all his crew, Now fain would iiee, or quarters give ; But spared were but the favored few Who let the spies of Joshua live. Defiant foes dared lift the spear Against the Lord's anointed band ; But the Judge of all the earth was there To lead and conquer tlu'ough the land. EVENING THOUGHTS. Tiji'ough Egypt's sea, tlirougli deserts vast, Through many a gory l)attle-field ; Wlien Satan hired, He \od them past ; Outniimhering foes were doomed to yield. When famine tlireatened to de\'0ur, He with his loving liand did feed ; And in rebellion's fatal hour, Preserved the pure of Alnam's seed. 33 THE^ RILL. As I stood by the rill A3 it fell from the hill, I was i)leased with the music it made ; Far along the green banks, It continued its pninks. Till at last it was lost in the shade. As it gurgled and roared, It refreshed and restored. With the spray that it cast on the sod • And the i)lants that grew there, Bent down for a share, And replied to the breeze with a nod. And the thirsty ox came. All familiar and tame, To the clear, cooling stream, he was drawn ; As he stood on the bank. The cool waters he drank. And retired, quite refreshed, to the lawn. J*:-^?, M KVENlN(i THOUGHTS, And around tho bright spring', On fantastical wing, Tiny insects in myriads whirled ; Aijd the birds sat at ease, 'Neath the shade of the trees. And the s])ring was a miniature world. How enchantingly sweet. At the noon-tide to greet. For Flora had deigned to be there ; She had touched the green sod With her magical rod. And her sweets were diftiised to the air. ^1^ 18 THE WORLD ANY BETTER FOR ME ^ Is the world any better because I am here t Let uie see. What account can I give for a da} or a year ( Let :ne see. Have example and precei)t been blended together With i)atience and goodness, with love for a tether ( Let me see. Hath the note-taker, conscience, a \'oice in the matter Of deciding tiie case (and she deigns not to flatter) ? Let me see. Is she true in i-ecording both the wholes and the fractions Of my motives and acts in my daily transactions ( Let me see ? Is my life so directed in all of its stages, That no painful disclosure be revealed from her pages ? Let me see. li:VENIN(} THOUGHTS. 85 THE LONELY ROCK AT SEA. Kver ii ilismal tiling to mo, Is a lonely rock at sea ; Sad tales that lonely rock could tell, If speaking powers it did possess, And all its secrets could confess, Of wreck and death that on it fell. It stands in giant form, Deliant 'midst the storm ; Whilst waves roll up its flinty side, And madly o'er its summit dash, And hurst as furious thunders crash, Anon to roll upon the tide. In solitude; and dread Its Cyclopean head Is seen above the rolling sea ; In calm, or storm, or dread cyclone, An everlasting dirge-like moan Oomes thundering o'er the lee. How many there have found Beneath that hollow sound A troubled grave in kelp and shell, Anfl broken wrecks and caverns dee]>. Around its base in long, long slee]), incessant wave-notes fail to tell. ■H^- w 86 KVENINr; THOTTfHTS. THE VOYAGER. T am a pilgrim, tempoHt tossfMl Upon lifti's ooe.'in drear ; Oft midst tlio l)oisterous surges lost. When signals false ap])ear. When treacherous heaconB lead the way. Quite neur the shoals 1 glide ; - Then, lo ! the l)reakers — dire disjday — A})pear on every side. When wt.'ll-nigh wrecked on rocks of sin. I shape my course anew ; And horror chills mv heait within. Whilst I the danger view. My latent hoi)es spring up once more ; Faith whis])ers in my ear, That half the dangers now are o'ei-, As from the shoals I steei-. I long to catch the faintest ray Of Bethlehem's guiding light ; To chase my lurking fears away. And guide my bark aright. i'l And when the glorious ray descends T'^pon the trouhh-d main, Tiiumphant ecHtacy it lends — • Tlie doubtful way ift ]>lain. ^. I '^x. EVENING THOUGHTS. 37 THIS WORLD IS NOT A DESERT WORLD. Tliis world is not a doHort world, As some would have it be ; Although with toil and woe beset, IBut still the mind is free. 'Tis fi '^e to love and free to hope ; 'Tis iVee to choose the right ; And free to stand its own defence, And i)ut the wrong to flight. And free, ))eside, to rove at large O'er Nature's ample field ; In every adaptation see, A deep design re\ealed. It liears the threat'ning thunder roar. Through all the upper air. And sees the vivid shafts descend, And feels that God is there. Its freedom floats through naked 8j)ac(', Where ether joins with air ; Where meteors sport with dazzling flame. And through the darkness glare. "Pis free to read the Sacred i)age, WJiere love and wisdom flow ; And run and win the christian race. And jK-ace and pardon know. Tis five to drink of kninvlcdgf deep in scientific lore, ' And jKithways coy through classic shades. It freely muy t'xplor*', D f i' \ 38 EVENIXO THOTTJHTS. TIk,^ mind ! wlio can its esseiicf know- - Its limit who mn tell ? Us growtli, ]ia\t! any told 1i„nv vast, ff fiiH'doiii .yiiides it well i Its -rowth none else can kjiow l>nt TTo, Wlio called it into Inrtii ; Who donhtless -rants eternal fVnit To the germ-springs on earth, Then is th(> world a desert waste. Since the Ahnightv will Hath si)oken mind to being here. His jiiirposes to till. A desert world ! dej.ai-t the thouoht ; l^et mind a witness he, 'I'hat all the glorious ^v(,.^'^ of ('en( I i4i EVKNIXG THOUGHTS. All hour lias gone, forever llowii, Its tolling (jlmnges truly tell ; Expired, alas ! reclaimed hy none • It is indeed an hourly knell. Around its wheels, from sight concealed, The chain of life is coiled in doubt ; Whose end to none can be revealed, Until its length is ineasiired out. How many would the secret know ? How long or short the golden chain Of lif(^ that l)iiids to earth below ? Hov many Avould the future gain l But life is all of seconds made, And seconds into minutes haste, And minutes into hours arrano-ed. Which on the dial plate are i)laced. And us the index moves apace, The hours are numbered o'er and o'er • Most surely ^\•^ll it mark the place, Where i)recious life shall l)e no more. 39 THE FISHER. O'er the Avaves, away, away, Swiftly down the broKd-armed l)ay, The fisher's boat is seen to glide, With snowy sail, along the tide. m -r -iO EVENING THOUGHTS. The morn is ftur, the wind is free, Tlie sky is clear, and clear the .sea ; The fisher's heart is light and brave, Whilst lightly floating o'er the why v. His graceful boat he steers along, And wakes the sea-l)irds with his song, Which at respectful distance keej3, As thouijh the fisher ruled the deep. Green isles bestud the ample bay, As oases in desert lay ; But these he quickly leaves behind. Intent on bolder scenes to find. Kach rock and shoal lie [)asses by, That 'neath the waves deceitful lie ; With net and line, and mooring strong, Which to his favorite trade belong. The finny shoal he finds at last ; His anc'ior safe is down\\-ard cast Beneath the flood, ten fathoms low, Far out at sea where wild winds blow. May good success attend him there — May fortune gi-ant his fullest fiire ; Then safely come by sail or oar, To share the home he shared before. EVENING THOUGHTS. 4i AWAY TO THE SPHERES Now let the mind free license take ; Let fond imagination rove ; And startling exploi-ations make. Among the mighty spheres above. Be seated on an infant ray, As from the orb of day it ilies ; Then, fearless, launch the mind away, And journey through the outer skies. Eight mighty spheres i)erpetual wheel Around the axled orb of lidit ; Whilst moons and asteroids reveal Their rays to telescopic sight. Mercury's torrid air shall lirst Be thought quite worth [i hasty call ; When with its calcined crust conversed, I'll quit at once its massive ball. Then with 'lie speed of thougiit again, I'll tread the open space in quest Of that bright gem I long have seen At eve, high up the twilight west. The goddess queen of beauty rare, In ancient fancy long admired, I gain ; but, lo ! the fabled fair Hath quit her throne, and long retired. Thy globe, ( ) ! Venus, strange to know, Hath two-fold seasons in thy year ; Th}' polar clinu:^s ricli herbage grow. Where earth with i)olar ice is drear. d3 i'* 1-' I I 42 EVENING THOUGHTS. u t. i n, '! 4 t ' Hi' I'll cross the earth's well-beaten road, To championed Mars of ancient fame ; I'll see or not his pond'rous load Of mail, or why his battling name. His warlike visage opening fast, As near I come, when, lo ! the king Hath di'opped his shield, since ages past No warlike fiends about him cling. The Asteroids I'll quickly leave, The thunder's mighty bulk to scan ; No piercing bolt I yet receive, Whate'er had been his ancient plan. Pristiiie legends, stale with time, I'll ever more repudiate ; Though told in classic style sublime, Theyily the test of modern date. With sunlight speed, away, away, Throiigh the etheric gulf I go ; Borne onward by the chariot, The thunderer's fabled sire to know. My sunbeam guides, with light'ning haste, To Saturn's mysterious lings convey ; When on the vast circumference placed. The planet wondei's I survey. The follietj of Helenic lore, That gave to Saturn god-likf powers ; The ring-giii orb sustains no more Than fi*uit matured retains the tiowera. I EVENING THOUGHTS. 43 Before me lie* unbounde watcli the ebbing tide, And hear the angry billows roar. Far out on ocean wade. " : I) M i I; 4(S EVENING THOUGHTS. In distance far the vaulted sky Came down and met the sea ; And sea and sky united were, Or such it seemed to Ije. Wliilst culling shells by sea-side foam, In fraternal childhood's tie, We little thought, 'ere many years, Some one or more would die. Now severed is the family cord ; The ocean claimed its j)rize ; One spirit ascended to its Lord— The bodv in ocean lies. 1 ^'L I H Yet, some are lingering by the way, On life's eventful shore ; But all the days of youth and ])lay Are fled for evermore. The meadow held and solemn grove, With all the open plain. And sea-side strand, with upland walks, As monuments remain. The seasons change, the summer coiixes. And flowers deck the field ; But all their magic charms are fled. For youth's fond days are seahvl. And every stream tlint dowii\\'ard Hows, And every fading leaf, And every flower at suunner'.s close, ' Foreshow thnt tiiuc is brii.'f. EVENING THOUGHTS. But God who governs all things woll, Hath Ijc'tter things in store For those who fea^- Him here below, That faileth never more. 49 MY GRANDSIRE'S LESSONS These few laconic lines I send To some good lad of ten, And hojje they'll not be criticised By learned and bearded men. .Some say there's but a step betwixt The ridiculous and sublime ; Then fret not if the two are mixeose, in a single case, In older style to shew, Our fathers to be a hardy race, And how T oanjic to know. Afy gi-nnd>rea8t ; Exciting tak's \v(nv rife of wealth Wliieli Acftdia's clime |>o,s.se9se(l. A century and a .'score of years Have nearly gone since came A colony unu.s(!(I to ftuirs, Of Pilgrim ])luck and fame. llie i»lace wli.'ve first they touched the shoro In family squads I know ; They inet tlio rod man as of voro. Arm(Hl M-ith gun and bow. Tile wily foe they dreatled long On his disputed soil ; Who craved the cattle and the com The fruit of wliite man's toil. They felled the forest, stroke by stroke, Where savage men did dwell ; Tlie solitude of ages broke, •And bore privations well. When Inn was empty, larder bai-o, With Indian skill they vied ; On snow-shoe tramp to wild beasts lair, Till game tlu^ir wants supi)lied. When Micmac statesmen called for pay, For some conceited wrong. His i)rice was paid without delay, Or pale face suffered long. 51 Hi 52 EVENING THOUGHTS. 'riicn every boy of on<> decadt' Must learn to slioot, and 1>p X tjiiasi soldier, not afraid, For reasons plain to see. Adventure did not ten'ify ; Their motto was, proceed ! Wlien duty called, they'd rather die Than foifeit honor's ci't'od. Tlieir trade extended far along The coast in hostile days ; Even Av'lien blockading na^'ies strong Possessed their ports and Inxys. No coaches, roads, or l^ridges good, A hundred yeai*s now spent ; Along the shore, oi th" ugh tlu' wood. Their route of travel went. n ' 9f ifoos by land, and foes by sea — Of dangers braved, I've heard ; And wo^dd you read and patient be, I'd write you word hy word. Tlieir progenitors they did imitate ; Experience was their school ; They laid the corner-stone of states And ttiught us how to rule. Tlieir spirit of enterpnse descends Through generations gone ; Acadia's commercial name extends To ix)rts in every zone. r* EVENING THOUGHTS. To boyn who chance my verso to read, Permit me here to say, Protect your grandsires in their need ; Then I .shall have my jjay. MORNING GLORY. Libt, whilst I tell a story, Conceix'ed of morning glory, Whilst on the hill afar, As the day began its dawning, The t>vilight's ruby awning, 8hut out the morning star. With other stars it blended, As night's dominion ended, And spread its curtain o'er ; The stellar rays retreating. Before its lustrous gi-eeting, Suffusing heaven's floor. The silvery moon-glow faded As through the West she waded, Btfore the dawning light ; I'he vales afar were covered With sheets of mist that hovered Betwixt the day and night. The waterfalls were rushing, And purling brooklets gushing, Birds were on their flight ; With a glory all surprising, The sun began his rising. From cliambers of the night. 68 ur. 7 h 54 l! I k EVENING THOUGHTS. There seemed two Empires meeting, And one was fast retreating, From twilight's border land ; Ephemeral in relations. Advancing to their stations, Alternate in command. The hills as embens glowing. With effulgent sunlight flowing, As fiery gates ajar ; 1 thought of scenes supernal, In the glorious world eternal. Where changeless pleasures are. !i HOMEWARD. Homeward, now let me haste. For the day is far spent, To the place of my rest, That oft yields me content : For the sun has now gone To liis place in the West, And the herds of the fields Have returned to their rest. The bright gems of the sky, And the moon with pale light, As they beam from afar, They betoken the night. O, the pomp of the scene, As it bursts to my view ; But for much needed rest, I must bid you adieu. J EVENING THOUGHTS. 55 The dim shades of theliight Now reix)ae ou the plain, And the soft evening zephyrs Are breathed from the main. The fond way to my rest Is ilhuned from on high By the glorious moon As she beams from the sky. Aurora, fram the North, In her mystical car, Comes riding o'er the gloom, With the bright ev'ning star ; But I can't linger long, For the torch of my home Oasts its mys on my path, And invites me to come. The fatigues of the day Are assuaged by the thought That I have a fond home Which appeases my lot. Vet my home, with its rest, Is not lasting to me ; For the world, vnth. its ohaims, Are destined to deca>' : But tlie gloom of the end Which awaits us below, is dispersed by a lamp Of celestial glow. It is seen through the portals Of Heaven above, ' As a guide to the i^est That was purchased by love. I* I *S 56 EVENING THOlTGfiTS. The liioro nearly approaclied. The- more vivid its niy\ Till if guides to the home Of perjietiuil day ; Where the song of redemption Is echoed in praise, And the lutes of briglit angely The choms will raise. Contemplation of Him Who created all things, yhall enrapture the soul With the glory it bringn. When the day of my life Has forever gone past, . To me gmnt, O, my Lord, The siire rest that will last. In the death-dealing floods That envelop the earth, I've been seeking and searching For a rest from my birth. Some object I view On the tempest-torn wa\'e : 1 hasten and stnicirle Through the billows that ravt\ Some mountain laid bare, All expectant ; but, lo f The mirag(? recedes, And .still struggling I go, in body fatigued, Desjmiiing in soul. 1 grasp at a leaf, And return to the goal. * EVENING THOUGUTS. 57 Poor trophy to bring, But no more can I tind ; Admittance I gain, With a rest to the mind. When deceived by the -vvoi'ld, Dejectetl and faint, In dih^mma of soul, If we make our complaint, At the door of the Ark (J)f Redemption behohl, A u-elcome more precio\iH Than rubies or gold. O, ^ otary of earth, ^ Do you hear the beh«^at, " Come, weary, heavy laden. In Me there is r<>st." ADMIRATION. Come, Admiration, come aw^ay ; Just bear me company, I pray, Aside to some secluded spot. Where misei*H, worldlings, venture not Where Solitude sometimcvs is seen, And Meditation oft hath been. I'll lead thee net to hermit cell, Where despondent devotees do dwell, And thought is hidden by the mist Of brooding melancholy in trist ; 58 EVENING THOUGHTS. I i V 11 V . :! III And llcHsoii, latul to Iwv ti-iisl, In loni; disuso, l)iitli none to rn.st ; And lni!itj:m!itioii, nuidc. to fly On fvocdoni's wings boyoncl the sky, Doth languish in hei* dnsty hod., And 'ruste, unrcconeikxl, hatli tlrd. We'll not to diostlv cavoni den. Aside Ironi all the walks of men. Made horrible by beasts of prey That seek concealment from the tla> , * Where owls that wake the night with serediuH, Re])air from noon-day's glowing })eamM. We will not thither seek ctelight. Like some half-maddened anchorite ; And not to old-timed cloister go Thi'oiigh coi'ridors, wander to nnd i'vo ; Or in deserted castle find Content where ivy wreaths are twinenl In iinai-tistic lattice o'er Moss-coated battlement and door. By Norman and Plantagenet, Not known else by the blood they spilt. Through ancient eript on tip-toe tread. Inspect the chambei's of the dead ; At everv turn, half dumb with fear, Lest some old armoured knight ap)>e!ir In misty guise and cross-bow drawn. And feudal steel-blades girded on ; With mask and greaves of chivalrous race Should shake the truncheon in thv face ; Or ca.st the gauntlet to the ground, Dem^inding, with sepulchral sound, What brought thee to the sacred spot Where heroes bled and barons fought. EVEN1>(} THOUGHTS. 59 una, Not «o, great soul, for Avell J know To ogi'c d(?ns thon wonkl'st not go. Nor find tliy \say to cloistored cells Where oppressive .silfuice dwells ; Or o'er through crumbling castles 8trid«s Where romance is ]»ersonilied. \V"(^'ll shun the haunts where solitu the east in flaming ear, And pendant dew-drops brush aA\ay From her ten thousand ijems that lav Along the fiowery })athway, where She nu'ets her lover, fFuiie, and there T5e jiai'tners at her marriage feast, When blushing tsvilight gilds the East, And scent and see each sparkling gem Thai docks her nuptial diadem. The odorous nectar in her cup Sends floods of grateful incense t)]> ; Tlio waves of rich perfunu' that rise, 'i"h<' sky-lark wings auiid the skies ; With s]»i(,'y breath and ]>raises long, Trills forth her sweet im|)assioned song. And g)'«'(its the sun before his rays 1 )() smite the iiill-tops with their l)ln/.e. 71 ' 60 EVENING THOUGHTS. I 1 m We'll follow in hor flowory tniin, From Polar belt to Southern main ; And rainbow wreaths on all the road On emerald floors are thickly strewed. Where'er her magic foot hath pressed, The sod obeys her rich behest ; The mountain side and desert waste Her inimitable hand hath graced ; The earth, the sea, and lambent air, Are sweetened l>y her gi'eat parterre. We'll in victorious march pursue, Triumphal arche-i passing through, To Eden gi-ovos — ambrosial bowers — In endless galaxy of flowers, We'll leave fair Flora there to play Her queenly part, then hie away To scenes sublime, that have a part In Nature's ever ))eating heart ; Whose endless anus extend arouu'l Creation's illimitable bound. The panoramic landscape lirvs Spread out beneath the endless skies, .Vnd in the atrial sj^ace between Cloudv continents are se<3n On ^^•^ngs of vapoi-, headlong hurled At perilous height, 'twixt sky and world ; In rival spc^nl — colliding, racing, Hither and thither, rolling, chasing ; Fragments .iiirliug here and there, Islands afloat in sea of air, liocurring evci' o'er and o'er P>eneath the lu'H\fn's staiTV tloor. EVENING THOUGHTS. 01 Oil ! is it not a fearful sight When liiiiTicanes display thoir might ; When thvmcler voices, awful Bound, Call out to thunder clouds around ; Responding thunder earthward comes, As ten-fold burst of battle drums ; The air recoils beneath tlie sound, And hills the echoes roll aromid. When light'ning shafts cut through the air, And burn with inomentaiy glare, Where is the heart that doth not (piail. Where is the cheek that turns not palo i When warring thundei's in attack Roll contending temjiests back ; Thy love for \-astness still may be , Insatiate, and long to Hee In cliariot. of wind along the sky Wliei'e heaven's artillery forces lie. Then w ith the leronaut ascend, And all the grandeur comprehend ; And from etlierial stations dare Look down tlirougli all the gulf of nir, With sublimity in cor])oreal form, Exidtant stand above the storm ; And if aml)ition lead thee higher, The flaming orbs thou canst admire, And starry worlds that glitter througli The endless canopy of blue ; But 'ere thou with the suidight stray. To wander o'er the milky way, And count each scintillating star 'I'hat faintly glitters from afar, Or trace the constelhitions bright #>, ^ i 02 EVENING THOUOHTS. m li i\ That burst upon thy ravished sight, Or in the comet's flaming trail Through immensity dost sail, ' Where centuries may })ass befoi*e Thy devious wanderings shall be o'er. From Ostentation stand aside, Take Humility for thy bride ; Make Gratitude an honored guest, And with the two thou shalt be blest. Be seated on the foot-stool low, And let thy worship upward How" To that Almighty builder who From chaos brought the worlds to view ; Who atom by its atom laid, And Nature's vast foundations made. In praise and adoration wait Before Creation's open gate, That leads to avenues of tliought, By thee, O ! Admiration, sought ; To landscai>e A'iews, earth's garments fair, To cloudy coverings in air ; To heaven's sidereal Avaste o'er head, With s])angling stai'-geras overspread ; To scenes of wonder, half revealed, To mystei'ies wliich lie concealed, Beyond the limit of thy ki^i, In mazes too profound for men. Thou mayest on flights of raptm-e risf To view the glory of tlie skies, Or sweep the enrtli from pole to ]»ole In all the graiuleur of thy soul ; But ne'er transgress the liallowcd bovnul Knciirliiig all the tiiiitc i-oniid, EVENING TJ I OUGHTS. Blasplioiiic not e'er the Doiindai y laid Hocwixt the maker and the made, • But praises loud do thou rehearse To the Author of the Univerne. G8 THE WAR-FIEND IS OUT. What .sound is tliis that ruslies by, That rends the air from earth to sky i Aghast, I stand and wonder. It scorns the angry ocean's moan. And mocks tlie tlvnnder's awful tone. Volcanic l)urst or thunder. Nay, nay, the tiend of war is out, With cannon's roar and trumpet's shout, Steel blades and scabbards rattle. His hosts of champing steeds 1 spy, With war-clad riders mounted high, All rushing to the battle. With glittering arms and epaulette bright, He seeks a foe that's worth his light. Intent on blood and phmder. Ten thousand foot are marshalled near. With gun and bayonet, pike and spear, With war-wings stretched asunder. The s[)lendour of his equipage. Co-equal with his bloody rage, Denotes his fell profession. ><| I I I' « ai ;' t 64- EVENINCJ THOUGHTS. Tho furv-flasliiiir'- eyes that roll, Proclaim the deinoii in tli(^ houI Too hovrible to iiieiitioii. DcviLs, Jit'iiring the buttle call, Have scaled perdition's tiery wall, Haste from infernal regions ; They to the conflict volunteer ; Pandemonium loves to hear The din of Hghting legions. iSemi-satans in liie iiesh. Bound soul and limb in satan's mesh, Make war their choice vocation ; Press unofl'ending men to fill The blood-stained ranks all trained to kill, Then seek a provocation. In loud huzzas and fiendish glee, He shouts when beaten foemen flee — Demons disguised are dancing. Both the wounded and tiie dead Are crushed beneath the war-horse tread, As o'er the field they're prancing. The charging phalanx, sure to meet Witli \ictory or stei-n d(;feat. Is all the same when ended. If one hath lost, the other hath won ; Both friends and foes are beaten down, x\.nd blood with blood hath blended. Impish devils urge them on. Till a hundi-ed battle-fields are won — Ten thousand mothers languish. * EVENING THOUGHTS, 65 The cluimpion's road to honor lies Through floods of tears from streaming eyes, Through streams of blood and anguish. The flaming city's lurid light, Turns night to day, and fiends delight To see the conflagration. Fit emblem of the nether world, Where murderous men from time are hurled By red-handed instigation. The eagles, hawks, and carrion crowS) Indifferent how the battle goes. Are other kinds of heroes ; With wings and claws, come down to feed On victims of the war-fiend's gi'eed, For honor such as Nero's. Four-footed compeers prowl around When night hangs o'er the battle ground ; War furies wait the sequel ; Should breathless corpses ope their eyes. They'd say, " The beasts we do despise, But man is more than equal." Should shades of murdered men appear To laurelled champions far and near, War-makers soon would vanish ; Who are braAe to kill and ti'ample down, But cower at retribution's frown, And conscience seek to banish. Celestial watchers view with }>ain The crimson floods and heaps of slain, And fields blood-stained and gory ; - w 06 EVENING TIIOUGnTS. mn 'Pi ll^ J; -i ** On radiant wings of glory fly To their supernal home on high. And tell the .saddening story. The war is o'er ; but, lo I there conies A sound, but not of battle drums, Or amiies fierce assailing ; On waves of wind 't^'s borne along, All like a self-repeating song — The sound of orphans wailing. White skeletons of unburied dead, Propound the case in letters red, In tone much like the other. Let mercy heed the sad lament, A query to christian nations sent. Why man should kill his brother 1 Oh ! fighting man, for shame, for shame, A stigma to the christian name. To angels near related. Much better would thy weapons look In plough-share and in pruning hook : To kill wast thou created 1 Desist from blood, but bend the bow ; Wage war against a serpent foe ; Within thy V)reast he is seated ; He smote sire Ada in, once so fair. Took Cain iji envy's fatal snare, And all mankind defeated. EVENING THOUGHTS. 67 WHO LIETH HERE ? The following lines were suggested 'oy the death of a ucar rela- tive, — young, fair, and full of promise. Scarce need the writer apologise for their deficiency of poetic merit, or sameness, attending compositions of like character, which render them almost unread- able ; but hoping they will not pass unnoticed by those who have suffered bereavement of a similar nature : to whose inspection, with all due deference on the part of the writer, they are submitted. Who lieth here, beneath the sod — Beneath the tufted grass, All heedless of the busy scenes, Or busy feet that pass l The flowers wild their tribute give % Around the hallowed spot, And breezes hum their muffled notes ', But, oh ! she heeds them not. Regardless, too, when strickened friends Approach with cautious tread, To view the sacred spot of earth That holds the pious dead. When fearfVil tempests rend the sky, And dismal storms descend — A dread to mortal ears ; but she No conscious ear can lend. But far away to regions fair. Beyond the mortal sight, Her spirit soared — by angels led , To scenes of holy light. I. |i! n ;v 68 EVENING THOUaHTS. In heaven's matchless templed halls, Where glory reigns around, She learns among the happy throng From counsels all profound. A mind so pure, a heart so true, A gem of priceless worth ; Christ the jewel to heaven drew, The casket lies in earth. Most precious in the eyes of God Is every dying saint ; The vale of death Christ's feet have trod, He hears death's wailing plaint. The liesh recoiled beneath the sting ; The linal foe is death ; But o'er the victor grave she'll sing With resurrected breath. Beside two brother babes she lies, Beside a mother too ; The four commune above the skies, And there their love renew. i . THE MIC-MAC. Assist me, O, muse, in the style of my verse, Whilst the case of the Mic-Mac I fain would rehearse ; He,calletl at my dooi- on his way. All tattered and ragged, without stockings or shoes ; He called for a crust, and could • refuse, ; So meek for the crust did he pray? EVENING THOUGHTS. m I gave him his fill, and he ate with a grace, And gratitude beamed on his ]ioor yellow face, Where sorrow and sadness did meet ; Of oppression and w^ant he had nothing to say ; N(3t a word of complaint as he limped on his way, On his naked and weather-baked feet. His stomach, you see, was his treasury chest. And when it was empty, he was poor and distressed ; j^o thou help him his coffer to till. As nature's pure child, he had little to name ; He had blanket, canoe, and a wigwam, that came By the force of his handicraft skill. What a contrast is he to his white fellow race, Who study to get and extort with disgrace, Disregarding a sacred behest. No thought for the morrow, no hiding away, To be used or alnised at some future day ; For the morrow he is never distressed^ In fee simi)le by claim, he onc(? owned and possessed A forest of game from the East to the West, »c Ere the white man invaded his right. No nu^ndicant then — he had plenty at hand. Why now should he beg in his own native land ? The possessor should blush at the sight. If he call at your door, never turn him aside To hunger Jind thirst, but your bounty divide ; Never spurn him because he is poor. IMiough you live in a palace, and lifted with pride, Condescend to relieve, for your acres awide Were his when the forest grew o'er. Mi ii m i 70 EVEXIXG THOUGHTS. O, pity the Mic-Mac, to sorrow veHigned ; Go visit the Mic-Mac in wigAvain redined ; Speak kindh'^, and never despise. Go aid tlie great missionary, Rand, in liis aim To preach and to teach in Jehovali's great name, And shew him the way to tlie skies. He's a model of much that's kindly and good ; Though a rude semi-savage of the jjrimeval Avood, In domestic rehttions he's kind. He has learned from the bird in her zeal to su[>ply Her nestlings with food and herself to deny, But how little is done for his mind. Like a solemn death knell, or a requiem song. Arc his feeble footsteps, as he paces along, , But alert in his favorite chase. His traditional song in the hunt or the dance, Is richly inspired by the muse of romance, 111 the deeds of -i chivalrous race. I THE OLD APPLE TREE. ( )f all the trees, there's not a tree That looks so tine, so fail- to me. As that old moss-grown ap})le tree That stands u[>on the green. Beside its furrowed trunk I stand. Beneath its half-dead branches spanned ; Beliind, before, on every hand, Leaf-bearing boughs between. i EVENING THOUGHTS. 71 Its •od, i 0, could I half the thoughts rehearse Whilst there I with the past converse, And weave there th readings into verse — O, help, thou muse of song. I try, but language doth me fail, And retrospections do assail ; Youth spins along with shining trail, With friends depai-ted long. I see my childhood there at play ; The old farm-ho\ise, thougli torn away, Its inmates all I see this day : Oh 1 thoughts, why torture me I And from the gray old cottage wall I hear the echoing voices all, Qiiite sure some mocking elf dotli call. Too airy-like to see. Its shade lies on historic ground ; I almost hear the gleeful sound Of laughing children romping romtd, And see the api)les fall. My lifetime there I (piick retrace ; See brothers, sisters, face to face ; Tliough some are held in death's emlu'ace, I see them, hear them all. Its Howery Junes I still can v^ew. And with its Sunimers travel thvoii^li, Tiitil its ripening fruitage drew Intruders to the ground ; And lu'ar the Ecpiinoxial gale That smites the seas and ships assail, \\:\\(> through its l)ranches with a wail, And shake the a]»ples i-()un(\ # w iM . I ■I 1' '■'I I' : If f 11^ ' ■ III 72 EVENING THOUGHTS. All t'.is occurs once more to me, Whilst standing by tlic brave old tree ; — Long may it live, and there to be A monument of time. Full foui' decades have passed away Since first I ventured there to play, Or bore its golden fruit away When in its bearing j)rime, ()]i California's golden coast, Huge trees reach u}> to heaven almost ; And India doth her l)anyans boast, Whose trunks by scores are told. I read of Lebanon's cedars tine, That Hiram hewed for David's liiu^ ; ( )f sycamores of Palestine, Of Druid oaks of old. Of palms, l)y the C^reator placed On Afric's tiery desei't waste ; Of maufuolia, with flowers iifraced ; These all I well adore. I hit not for all the sylvan line ( )f priceless trees do I resign The grand ohl api)le tree of mine, Adjacent to mv door. Once with leaf and flower 'twas dressed, But bending to tlie great l)e]ie.st, — That all tilings fade in life's iiui-e.^t. The flat of decay. Is passed on men as well as trees. A generation often sees, Its fairest flowers cast to the Iireeze. All, actors of a dav. k EVENINf; THoDOHTS. 7;^ VOICES. ' ' I I(>itrk('ii, liear the voice.s calliuj;-, ( >n the ear incessant falling-, ' ' . Melodious, sootliing, or wpptilllng ; < )ft with memory's being blended, VVlien tlie speaker long hatli ended Speaking, and with dust hath blend(Ml. A wond'rous thing are sjjeaking powers ; The gift is God's, the boon is ours ; In thought and speech, man's being towers In majesty, in jMDAver, and might, Higli as tlie golden eagle's flight, From mountiun turret in the light. Above the beast with instinct rare ; ■ si Above the fowls that wing the air ; Naught else created can compare ; , VVith niaii thus gifted to transceml. To rule, to reign, to comprehend, With soul abiding without ('n ' ' That voices do, both great iind small ; Sometimes you're social, somcitiines stern ; Sometimes with ehxpience you Imi-n ; Yoti teach sometimes, jind sometimes Icin'U .! ! ( -M ii V FA'ENlNr; THOUGHTS. 1 ask you, voices, are tlu^re two Tliat twin-ship claim all nature through. ^-^u, answer, No, and answer true ; Yo\i say m gonus we coincide, But in our sjiecies dilfei wide ; No two agi'ee, but still allied. We're one in kind, and one in n.'inio, And consanguinity do claim ; iiut lest we jar creation's frame, J^]ach one revolves in its own sphere. And in their orbits ventwre near. And touch each other without fear. In oni; diapasoii. we belong ; We liarmonize in one great song, And loll our melodies along ; Oh ! voices, voices, still it seems 1'hat some roll on in endless streams All like the sun's divergent beams : ( )r inidulate upon the air, Are ever here and nyov there, From ear to heart vil)rating e'er ; They live as spirits live, unseen. And ever do thev intervene Through all the space that lies betw^een. The speaker, some dear cherished friend, And ravished hearer's final end, And ne'er with other voices blend, (Jome breathing through the solitudes And silence of some lonely wood, Through vanished veai's, and vounii thee br Such voices spirit-like appeal', Through copse and gi'ove they venture near, And breathe upon the passive ear ; When memory's gates are left ajar, Mount recollection's rapid car. And journey through the past afer. Old faces everywhere abound ; Old voices of familiar sound, Speak out from lips now under ground, Or from the sea-depths darksome dells, Whei-e painful reminiscence dwells. Just hear the greetings and farewells. ^M' m^